A hundred moments in autism - playing darts

I stand in line with the 20, dart in hand, lean forward slightly, and hold the dart so that is in front of my eyes, bend the elbow back and throw, with my elbow positioned at 90 degrees for a simple pivot action. 

The sports I enjoy and do well at are controlled, and don’t require complex reactions: snooker, running, darts. Playing sports like football, cricket and baseball, I am clumsy. There is too much going on for my brain to compute and adjust to.   

Research has shown that as many as 80% of autists have some sort of deficiency in motor skills.  In most cases this deficiency is like mine, nothing more serious than struggling to catch or throw a ball whilst running.  The cause is not clearly understood, but seems to relate to the way that autists process sensory information and proprioception (awareness of body position).  

Autistic genes seem to have flourished despite this deficit, so maybe kicking a ball around wasn’t central to human survival (NT men please note). 

I am a decent pub-dart player, and have even won trophies, much to the annoyance of Mrs Oblong who decries their presence on her shelving.  

Look again at my darts technique. It is as simple as it could be. I stand straight, and throw straight.  Watch the other players in my league and their stances and actions are often unnecessarily complex. Many stand to the right or left of the 20, and have to make adjustments rather than just throw straight ahead.   

As for the throwing action, many are completely wild. One of the players in my league seems to wave at the board with his dart before throwing, another seems to combine dart-throwing with doing a one-armed funky chicken. Few actions are as simple, repeatable and straight as mine. 

Like many things, knowing and adjusting to your deficiencies can make you stronger than those without such deficiencies. In the case of darts, I regularly beat both funky chicken man and wavy Davy, so adapting to your limitations does work.