Divine Intervention
Seriously, this actually happened to me. As you may have already heard. Believe it or not, I actually did beat Jesus at tournament darts! Yes, you read it correctly, I mean, “That Jesus”, The Son of God, you know, the famous guy with the long brown hair, well groomed beard and mustache, centuries ago, they even wrote a world wide best seller all about him. I won the $25,000 cash prize, and I obviously lived to tell you about it.
I know, you heard all about this on the news, Facebook, as well as all over the internet. Literally, all the local television networks as well as the cable news channels covered it, not to mention NPR and talk radio This was the biggest thing that ever happened in the small town of Brooksville, Florida and eveyone wanted in on it. But, I really wanted you to hear it straight from me, after-all, I was there, and this is my story.
But first let me give you a little background…..
Let me tell you, I really, really, love playing darts, I live to play darts, I have been playing darts for as long as I can remember. After what seemed like a lifetime or two, I actually got to be pretty good, I even started to make some real money at it, not quite enough to pay off my monthly beer tab, but pretty damn close. Eventually, I started entering a few serious dart tournaments and I started winning.
This is where the real story begins…..
You see, I actually made it through to the final qualifying rounds of the, 23rd Annual Brooksville Invitational Darts Tournament. I really felt that I had a decent shot at winning the big $25,000.00 cash prize for first place. I’ve always dreamed of winning one of those really big over-sized checks presented to me, just like you see on TV.
I had been practicing my game diligently every day for months. If you don’t believe me, just check out the wall of my living room, all around my semi-regulation tournament dartboard, it has the battle scars to prove it. You know what I am talking about, all those little holes in the wall around the dart-board from all the missed shots.
The big tournament was finally approaching, I actually felt pretty damn good, I hadn’t made a new hole in the living room wall for quite some time, and my game had been spot on for several weeks, through round after qualifying round.
Unbelievably, I was one of the final twenty contestants. The tournament qualifying rounds started off with well over one hundred fifty contestants, now the finals were finally here. This was the do or die moment. Now, there were only twenty of us left standing.
I can’t really explain it but for the last few days leading up to the tournament, I just knew I was going to win. I felt pretty good, I could feel it, not only that, I could actually taste it. In a few hours the big prize money was going to be mine, I was already planning on how I was going to spend my new found windfall. I had never felt this confident or self assured in my entire life.
No matter how confident I felt, I still wasn’t taking any chances. The night before the big tournament, I had a couple of beers, well to be honest it was more like several beers. I wasn’t skimping, I was drinking my favorite beer, Yuengling Lager, in the can of course. You see, I am very discerning when it comes to beer. I wanted to make damn sure that I looked and felt my very best for the big tournament the next day, so I drank my beer and stayed up late before stumbling off to bed.
The day of the tournament was finally here and for some strange reason I woke up really, really, early, I think it was some stupidly early hour like 9:30 in the morning. I mean seriously, who gets up at 9:30 in the morning, on a freaking SATURDAY anyway? I’ll tell you, maybe other losers, but not me.
Oh well, I figured that I might as well get up and get ready. I sh**, showered and shaved and of course had another beer, after-all, it had to be after 12:00 noon somewhere on the planet right?
I put on my favorite black denim jeans, black tee shirt, my lucky black Nehru jacket and of course my favorite red sneakers. I said goodbye to my dog Homer, locked the door behind me and off I went.
I strolled down to the tournament really early, signed-in, and hit the bar and grabbed a beer. As I sat at the bar eyeing the final competitors, I actually allowed myself to dream about all the things I would do, with all that money; after all, I just knew I was going to win. I could feel it in every fiber of my being.
Suddenly, I started hearing this rhythmic chanting from near the front door, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, everybody in the bar turned and started staring towards the door and craning their necks to see what the hell was going on. People even started standing on their chairs and tables to get better look. The chanting continued – Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
There’s a big commotion and the crowd parts just like the Red Sea and there he was. Jesus himself, gliding towards the sign-in table: Jesus signs in. A million thoughts start running through my head, How in the hell am I going to possibly beat Jesus at darts? …What doe’s Jesus need the $25,000.00 prize money for anyway? …Did Jesus invent darts? …Maybe, I wouldn’t want to win, maybe, just maybe, Jesus is a sore loser and might just turn me into a pillar of salt, or something worse.
If I won, did that mean I was more powerful than the Son of God? Jesus, slowly turns, looks up and looks straight at me, Jesus stands up, and points to his solid gold custom dart case. The case is engraved with angels and trumpets, all heralding the power, and glory of God.
At that exact moment, I realized that my dream of winning the $25,000.00 prize money was now totally shattered. God, Wy are you doing this to me? I raged that this was so not fair. Not to mention the fact, I certainly hoped that Jesus didn’t remember me, because I had a serious beef with this dude.
You see a couple of months ago, God “smited” me and I was still really, really, unhappy about that. It all started when I casually made one of those off the cuff comments to my fiancee that I would really like to stop smoking one day.
That was a serious mistake on my part…
You see, at the time I didn’t know that my fiancee, Patria, has a direct pipeline to God, but now, I am 100% certain that she does, I’m not kidding, she really does.
You see, several months ago, I suddenly got really, really, sick. I was so sick that if I took one hit off a cigarette I would cough my lungs out for twenty to thirty minutes. It was devastating to me especially because I really enjoyed smoking. I know it’s not popular but I really liked smoking my 305’s.
A short time later, in my delirium, with a high fever and feeling like I would die at any moment, I asked Patria, “why is this happening to me”? Patria casually mentioned that she had recently prayed to God to give me the strength to stop smoking. WHAT??? Well evidently, God listened to her prayer. Instead of giving me the strength to stop smoking, he decided to smite me just for the fun of it, God made me suffer to the maximum extent possible! That definitely wasent cool of God to do that to me, and I was still really pissed off about it.
But that’s a story for another time.
Jesus glides up to the bar, just opposite from me, dressed in his usual long robes, and really cool, hand-made sandals on his feet. Jesus’s long flowing brown hair is perfect, and shiny. I thought to myself…. I wonder what shampoo and conditioner he uses and where could I get a pair of those really cool sandals. They have got to be far more comfortable than these cheap shoes from China that I wear all the time.
Every eye in the place was upon Jesus as he politely asked the bartender for a glass of water. The bartender, Ernie, pours a glass of water for Jesus. The moment Jesus’s hand touches the glass, the water instantly turns into wine, red wine, to be exact. With a satisfied smirk, Jesus, lifts the glass and takes a sip. Jesus smiles, for he knows that it is good. What a freaking showoff.
The chanting starts up all over again… Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Suddenly, above the raised voices of the chanting crowd, the Bartender, Ernie, could be clearly heard saying; “Hey Buddy, If you’re going to keep doing that, the water’s not complementary, I got a business to run”. Jesus raised his glass to Ernie and smiled as he turned and walked away.
Jesus, and his now considerable entourage, started heading my way around the bar.
Jesus, still holding his water-glass which was still miraculously filled with red wine.
I decided that I wasn’t dealing with that kind of showboating, so I turned my back on Jesus and towards the bar while I continued to slowly sip my beer.
I could sense, and feel, that Jesus had stopped directly behind me, that and the fact, that his entire entourage, had also seemed to have stopped as well.
Of course, I tried my best to just ignore Jesus, and not even bother to turn around and face him. Hopefully, Jesus would just go away. I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to be that lucky.
Believe me I was in no mood to talk to Jesus, as I was still conflicted on exactly what strategy I was going to use, to hopefully win the entire tournament, and the $25,000.00 first prize. Before any tournament, I prefer to just be alone, to reflect and relax.
You are not going to believe what happened next…Seriously, you should be sitting down, before reading this……
Jesus, who was until then just being really annoying by standing directly behind me, Him and his entire entourage. When suddenly Jesus started trash talking me. That’s right trash talk, in a low serious voice Jesus started saying shit like; “Hey Punk!” “Think you can beat me?” “You scared?” “Well you should be.” “You think you’re the best, well maybe you are, that is until I got here, sucker!” “Don’t turn your back on Jesus.” “You want to make a wager, I will even spot you a few points.” On and on, and on.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, Jesus leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear, “Hey man, you want a smoke?” “I just happen to have your favorite brand…..”
THAT WAS IT, THE LAST STRAW! My heart was racing and my blood pressure was through the roof, I did’nt care. I slowly turned around on my bar stool, until I was face to face with Jesus, I was literally looking into the eyes of the Lord. With as much sarcasm as I could muster, I said, “No thank you, Jesus, I don’t smoke, Remember?” Now I couldn’t stop, it just kept coming out, “What kind of talk is that Jesus?” “Your father would be so proud of his only son.” (Hey, what can I say, that’s all I could think, of on a moments notice) The room suddenly became deathly silent, you could literally hear a pin drop. It seemed to me that my heart was beating so loud that the entire bar could hear it.
Jesus just stood there for a minute………….. then he laughed, laughed really loud, and confidently, his entourage also laughed, Jesus clapped me on the shoulder, looked me in the eyes, smiled and without another word, turned, and walked away, towards the arena, where the tournament would soon be held. His entire entourage followed him and they all just glared at me as they passed. I had never saw so many Jesus ass-kissers in my entire life. I don’t think that being a follower of Jesus entailed all that, but……
I considered it a good thing that Jesus didn’t turn me into a pillar of salt or fling my sorry ass into the depths of hell or anything like that. Hey, who knows which stories about him are true or not and at this point I couldn’t care less.
I watched Jesus as he continued to show off along the way as he performed a few small miracles as he made his way to the arena.
As far as I could tell, these miracles were nothing big, you know, simple stuff like placing his hand on top of a bald guys head, and suddenly, this guy grew some amazing hair, I mean seriously, this guys new hair would make even Fabio from the 1980’s insane with jealousy.
Next, Jesus placed his hand over that woman’s mouth who had no teeth and bam!, she now had a perfect set of pearly whites and I would me remiss if I forget to mention the goodhearted guy with the thick coke bottle glasses. Those lenses seriously made this guys eyes look like they were the size of golf balls. I felt really bad for him as I was pretty sure that this guy had ever had a date in his entire life. Jesus walked right over to him, pulled off his glasses, placed his hand over his eyes while he spoke softly to him. Jesus removed his hand and just like that this dude had perfect 20/20 vision. I was really happy for him.
Lastly, a young divorcee, a woman whose sleazeball of a husband left her for another woman, just because she had breast cancer, and to make matters worse she had to have a double mastectomy. Of course, her health insurance company wouldn’t pay for any sort re-constructive breast surgery because as they stated, it was not a medical necessary.
Jesus casually walked over to her, placed his hands upon her chest, and just like that she suddenly had had the most perfect set of breasts the world had ever seen. I know this for fact, because afterwards she proceeded to skip around the bar, lifting up her shirt, and showing literally everyone. Even I had to admit that Jesus had really done an amazing job as they were truly spectacular.
After every miracle Jesus performed there would be another polite round of applause, followed by another round of chanting; Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. At this point I was getting pretty damn irritated with Jesus. I really hate show-offs.
I was no fool, I knew exactly what Jesus was doing, he was just trying to psych me out and intimidate not only me but all the other finalists as well. I have no doubt that if there had been a pool of water in his path, Jesus would have walked on it, just because he could. Well, Jesus’s plan must have worked, considering that every one of the other finalists, suddenly dropped out of the tournament.
I could’nt believe it. I personally knew like twelve of those guys and when Jesus started doing his miracles they denied him and bolted for exit as soon as Jesus wasn’t looking. It was both sad and pathetic.
Now, It was down to just two, Jesus and me.
I had already resolved that I was not going to be intimidated by Jesus, or anyone else for that matter. I decided that I was going to play to the very best of my abilities. I was going to play darts just like my life depended upon it. who knows, maybe it did.
Jesus, along with his continually growing entourage of followers, slowly proceeded to walk towards the dart competition area basking in the adoration of the crowd until he finally disappeared around the corner and into the main arena.
Me, on the other hand, I was still sitting at the bar trying to process everything that I had just witnessed. I decided that I was actually rather unimpressed, so I ordered another beer, and waited.
It was kind of funny, I finally noticed that everyone seemed to be avoiding me, kind of like a dead man walking. All the bar stools on either side of me were empty. Everyone was on the opposite side of the bar making a point of not making eye contact with me, but none the less watching me closely with those weird sideways glances.
I guess I couldn’t really blame them, after all if Jesus were to have gotten really pissed off at my insolence and in a fit of rage decided to smite me (again) I guess they didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire and possibly become collateral damage themselves. I didn’t really blame them.
Hell, Ernie, the ultra cheap bartender even bought me my next beer. Let me tell you, in three years of going there, Ernie, had never, ever, bought me a free round, not even on my birthday.
After about 45 minutes or so, and two or three beers later, I heard my name being called over the PA system, the tournament will begin in ten minutes, please report to the main arena. Well, this was it, I downed the last of my beer, picked up my case of darts, gave Ernie a little nod and headed to the arena. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t scared, because I was, but I was determined to go through with it no matter what happened to me, besides I had a score to settle with Jesus.
As I casually strolled towards the arena, I noticed that off in a cozy corner of the bar, the nice guy that formerly had the coke bottle glasses, and the woman with the brand new and really spectacular boobs, were holding hands, and staring into each others eyes. I remember thinking that they made a really good-looking couple. I really hoped it worked out, for both of them. I found out later that they had gotten engaged.
Finally, as I rounded the corner to the tournament area, I began to hear the chants of, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. As I got closer, the chants grew louder, and louder still, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
As I entered the arena, I was greeted with close to 450 people chanting, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. This chanting went on for some time. It had started to seriously get on my nerves, and become really, really, annoying. I mean come on give me a freaking break already.
The Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, chant continued for some time. No matter how many times they were asked to stop, the crowd had steadfastly refused to stop chanting Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, despite being admonished by the judges, and tournament security officials, multiple times.
The tournament judges, as well as the tournament security officials obviously fearing a major disruption of the entire tournament, huddled and looked like they were having a really heated and animated discussion for several minutes. Finally, they seemed to have made a decision. The lights suddenly came up and the senior tournament judge walked up to the microphone.
The crowd sensing something was up, slowly stopped chanting Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. Although, it was not soon enough for me as I was starting to get a serious headache from all the chanting of Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
The senior tournament judge began to speak…
I couldn’t believe what I heard, the tournament officials, disqualified, and removed Jesus from the final tournament. Rules are rules, and evidently disrupting the entire 23rd Annual Brooksville Invitational Darts Tournament as well as the intimidation of other players were a couple of serious ones. According to the rules, by default, I won the tournament and the $25,000.00 first place cash prize.
I never even threw a single dart, not even one, can you believe it?
Personally, I really believe that this was a case of Divine intervention.
OK, for those of you who are just about to pick up the phone and call your spouse, your friends, family and excitedly exclaim….. Check this out, Tom Dye, played in a darts tournament with Jesus and Tom Dye, actually won!
Seriously! Whoa, whoa,…Hold your horses, hang up that phone. Hang it up right now.
I have a confession to make, I just made the whole thing up. I know, I’m truly sorry. Please, let me explain….
In reality, some guy, who had just grown his hair, beard, and mustache for a few months, and coincidentally looked exactly like the famous painting of white republican Jesus, was kicked out of a darts final tournament, because close to 450 people in the crowd would not stop chanting, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.
Seriously, nobody, anywhere, would actually believe that Jesus would walk into a bar, turn water into wine, trash talk a competitor and perform some cheap miracles, just to impress a bunch of drunken fools, because that my friends would be totally absurd. Or would it?
As for me, actually playing darts? There is only one way to describe my dart throwing ability, basically, I suck at darts!
The only miracle would be, if after throwing a dart, I was able to avoid seriously injuring an innocent bystander.
Remember, just because you saw something on the internet or Facebook doe’s not make it true.
As Always,
I Am….
Tom Dye, The Safety Guy
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