Sunday's Cornhole Tournament Organized By AZALEA Magazine In Summerville Was Great Competitive Fun For All

While visiting my son back in Ohio some considerable years ago, he asked me if I would be interested in playing a new game he made. We went out to his backyard where two rectangular boards with a hole near the top was setup on his lawn. Six brightly colored bags were laying on one of the boards. I asked, "What do you call this game?" "Cornhole," he informed me. He proceeded to explain the rules and the scoring.

I picked up one of the bags and for want of a better word, mushy came to mind. I tossed it toward the opposite board. I would like to say it slid into the hole, but truth be told, it slid off. It was my first exposure to this engaging pastime that has found its way into just about every tavern and bar since. Quite interestingly, it is believed cornhole's uncertain beginnings were in Ohio, Cincinnati to be exact, but I am positive some ancient group of people played something similar to cornhole somewhere in this big world. We just haven't dug around in the right pile of dirt yet.

Recently, I met a talented young woman while attending a tech meeting in Charleston. She introduced herself as the director of marketing and art management for Art Spaces. Her name is B. Vordai. In the course of our conversation, Vordai also revealed she is a certified cornhole manufacturer. I didn't even know there was such a certification. But with everybody and their brother making the game these days, certain specifications must be maintained to keep its integrity in tact, like an official NFL football or professional major league hardball. By the way, footballs are often called pigskins, but an official football is made of genuine leather. Regulation cornhole bags are made of duck cloth and filled with corn.

While my son's cornhole set was finished with a high gloss polyurethane, many of the boards you see today are painted, and not just plainly painted. Many are covered with logos of their favorite sports teams, businesses, or just about anything the imagination can conjure up.

An obvious bi-product of all these games is the tournament, which is the main reason for this post. I just participated in a tournament sponsored by AZALEA Magazine of Summerville. The location where all this bag throwing took place was Short central in front of O'Lacy's Pub. The top prize was a trophy and a cornhole set with trophies also going to second and third place finishers. Keri Whitaker was my team partner and our team name was White Gables.

The teams were arranged into brackets and the winner of each bracket would move on to the next. Fairly simple arrangement. The first round of games would be decided by a best of three. After that, it would be single eliminations until the championship, which would be decided by a best of three.

When Keri and I first arrived on scene, we decided a few warm up tosses were warranted. So, with our first beer in hand, we cow pied a few, after which I checked out the competition. There were many different styles of tossing. There was the high toss, the flat toss, the flat-spin toss, and the backhand toss. There was even one person who pinched the cloth between two fingers and tossed it. The competition was going to be stiff.

The start time finally arrived. The first game proceeded slowly. At the beginning, there were many dirt bags tossed by both teams and each covered point for point. We cornholed a few and jumped out into a considerable lead once we hit 10, and then experienced a slump upon reaching 17. It was now 17-12. The opposing team picked away at our lead and the game was tied up at 20-20. It was anybodies game now. The tension was high. It came down to me. My first toss slid off and my opponent aced. I aced the second and my opponent missed. I cornholed the third, while he aced his third. I aced the fourth, so now the pressure was on my opponent. He needed a cornhole to stay alive, which he did not. First game over.

In the second game, we cruised into a big lead quickly, 8-0. Once again we cooled off and they picked away at our lead until it was 16-12. Keri then scored a Leprechaun, four bags on the board. It was 20-12. Only one point was now needed, which I failed to get on my next four tosses. Keri likewise missed on her next four tosses, but on my next round of tosses I got an ace and a slider. We took the first round.

The second round was going to be tougher. It was a one game elimination, so there was no room for error. We were playing against the Bama Buckeyes, fellow former Ohioans. We scored three points and they scored four. From there it was pretty much over for us. Every time we would ace, they would ace twice. Every time we would cornhole, they would cover with two. We couldn't get a single point. It was now 20-3, their favor. Our competition then proceeded to cornhole a shot. Keri needed to cover to stay in the competition. Her next shot would have been a good instant replay. She got nothing but hole. The elation was very short lived because our opponent cornholed his next shot. No trophy for us. None-the-less, it was fun Sunday afternoon in Summerville once again.

All thanks to AZALEA Magazine for organizing the event and its sponsors. AZALEA Magazine's beautifully arranged pictorials and commentaries are dedicated to celebrating  the best of Summerville through its novel look at the region's history, culture, and residents. Throughout its pages you get a close-up, intimate look into the lives of its unique personalities-their skills, their homes,  and their impact on the charisma of the Lowcountry. Pick one up and take a look. After perusing its pages, you will have a greater appreciation for the reasons people keep coming back to the number one destination in the world.