Although each Designated Writers post is suitable for all ages — and we use small words so anyone can read these posts, and besides small words are the only ones we know — I have an uncomfortable feeling today’s Happen might need to be screened.

See, the thing is … the problem is … “cornhole” is an actual sport.

I know. Right?

In the laugh-in-the-face-of-death, live-on-the-razor’s-edge life of cornhole competition, people stand roughly 10 yards apart (I am NOT ‘Googling’ any of this to offer ‘exact’ rules, etc., because I am too embarrassed) and throw tiny bean bags toward a slanted, uniformed-sized board that contains a hole at its upper center. The goal is to slide the bag or dunk the bag into the hole.

I’m serious.

It actually sounds semi-fun and of course anyone can do it. Family reunion. Tailgate. Church social. And it’s easier than horseshoes because it’s quieter and you don’t have to drive a stake into the ground. Or de-shoe a horse.

But why didn’t they name it “Beanbag Toss” or “Bag Chunk” or “Gene Tenace.” Anything but “cornhole,” which sounds like a scene from “Deliverance,” which I apologize for even writing. (You’ve probably seen the movie but if you’ve never read the book, DW highly recommends it. It has a literary cornhole feel to it, but that’s acceptable because we are talking the arts and not something people are doing in the wide open spaces at the community Fourth of July picnic.)

For NO reason other than I wanted company while I ate my Saturday tuna fish sandwich at noon, I turned on the TV recently and to my shock and surprise, cornhole competition was on. Not only that, but it was the National Championship! THEY HAVE CORNHOLE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP! I have not been this shocked since I found out there were T-ball tournaments. Even district champions! In T-ball!?

The photo you see above was taken with my own phone from my own television set. It is of the National Title ‘Game.’

But I will not lie: I was mesmerized.

I figured out the strategy. (Who knew?) Came to understand how each dude plays defense, depending. Could see the angst in one of the competitors when they “missed” a shot. Whether it’s a sport or not is none of my bees-wax. The point is, winning and losing was involved, and these guys had devoted hours to figuring out how to do one and not the other.

Of course there were commentators. And even a postgame sideline reporter.

And also, these guys were good. Composed. Prepared. I could tell that, night after night, as their moms cooked supper, they were out there under the dim street light, practicing the demanding, unforgiving, poorly named sport of cornhole.

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