Boise's underground cornhole community
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Did you know Boise has a thriving competitive cornhole community? Yeah, I didn’t either. Last month I was at Craft + Commerce and met Kara May. Kara was telling me how she loves From Boise and then she told me about how one of my Thursday newsletters last fall got her into the local cornhole scene. I was like, wait what? Tell me more. My mind was blown and I asked her to write a story about it. Which you get to read today :) You can listen to me read this story on the podcast. Enjoy! Boise's underground cornhole communityBy Kara May Three figures silhouetted the yellow glow emanating from a slightly-ajar workshop door. I’d driven through a barbed wire gate onto a dirt lot and found myself surrounded by heavy machinery. Surely this isn’t it, I thought, but the GPS said otherwise. The buildings matched the description, so this had to be the place... right? Light illuminated my face as I gingerly approached the door. The three figures remained dark shapes. “Hi, I’m, uh... here for cornhole?” I swallowed. The three men exchanged glances which to me betrayed it wasn’t every day they saw a lone girl show up to one of these tournaments. “Right this way,” one said as he slowly swung open the door and gestured inside with an upturned palm. Crossing the threshold was like stepping into another dimension. I felt like Willy Wonka had just invited me into his exclusive chocolate factory. It was November, so darkness had long since fallen. But in contrast to the pitch black outside, the workshop was bright and bustling. Multiple boards were set up, around which sat dozens of people in canvas chairs drinking and laughing. To my surprise, I wasn’t the only woman. I felt my shoulders relax a little. This is like the speakeasy of cornhole, I marveled. A hidden world. “If you know you know, you know,” is a good way of describing the local cornhole scene. Unless someone tells you about it, you’d never know these games were taking place. There are no signs, no bulletins, no announcements, no advertisements. You’d virtually never stumble across one accidentally. Discovering this community was a sheer stroke of luck. Well, and maybe a dash of bravery if I’m giving myself credit. One day last fall, I received an issue of a little ol’ newsletter you might know by the name of From Boise. In the Thursday issue was the usual litany of local events. I always enjoyed scrolling through the various goings-on, while imagining what it might look like to have a social life, before I’d ultimately archive the email and let loose a wistful sigh. But this time, one event in particular caught my eye: Veteran’s Day was coming up, and there was a clothing drive for those in need along with a cornhole tournament and BBQ. Cornhole! I knew I had to go.
Hooked on cornholeI’d played the occasional backyard cornhole game with friends at a cookout or party. But I was always the weird one trying super hard to win. While everyone else haphazardly threw bags with one hand, clutching a beer in the other, I furrowed my brow and kept score. Unfortunately, my competitive spirit was a buzzkill to those who saw bag tossing as a mere excuse to socialize while drinking. So while I enjoyed any chance I got to play, I always felt like the odd one out for trying to, you know... win the game. But as luck would have it, win is exactly what I did at this fund-raising tournament. By some fluke, I got first place and won a couple of tickets to a BSU game. I was hooked. “Where can I find more places to play?” I asked the organizers after they congratulated me. “You know, I’m not really sure,” one said. “I don’t imagine you’ll find many opportunities to play with it getting colder, unfortunately.” I was disappointed, but his answer made sense. “Let me get your number,” another said. “We play an occasional game with family and friends. It’d be great to have you.” Determined to find more opportunities to play, I obliged. “I also know some people who may know where to play,” he said, “so I’ll ask around and see if we can find some more tournaments for you.” A couple days later, he texted me a screenshot of a conversation he’d had with someone on Facebook. “Tell her to download the Scoreholio app,” the message read. I downloaded Scoreholio, tapped “Find a tournament”, and entered “Boise” as the location. My eyes grew wide. There were multiple cornhole tournaments happening every single week right under my nose! I signed up for one in the app that just read “Steve’s place”.
“Who’s that girl you invited?”“Steve’s place!” Carlos laughed, reminiscing last month when we sat down to talk. He was the one who ran that tournament in the workshop last year and let me borrow a set of his bags. He also showed me the proper way to hold and throw them to achieve the coveted “flat bag”. “Do you remember that first time I showed up?” I asked. “I do remember,” Carlos said. “Everybody was like, ‘Hey, who’s that girl that you invited?’ I was like, ‘Dude, I don’t even know her! She just came out of nowhere.’” I laughed. “I remember multiple people asked me, ‘So who dragged you out here?’ I was like, “Me!” They couldn’t believe it. ‘Well, who do you know here?’ I said, ‘No one!’” “For you to come to Steve’s shop, of all places,” Carlos chuckled. “Compared to Heritage Social Club, or The Elks Lodge in Nampa—we were just shocked. We thought maybe you were going to feel uncomfortable at first, but it seemed like you had a good time.” “I felt welcomed by you specifically,” I said. “Oh, good,” he replied with relief. “I really appreciated you letting me borrow your bags.” “Yeah!“ Carlos said. “That’s how the cornhole community is. We help everybody. It’s just a big family. If you don't have bags, anybody has bags they’ll let you borrow.” “He’s got a ton of bags,” Shelby, who was nearby listening to our conversation, chimed in. “I know!” I said. “The set I use now, I bought from him.” “I’ve got a problem,” Carlos admitted. “I have stacks and stacks of bags. You can’t even see the top of my dresser.” “How many do you think?” “I want to say about 35 sets?” “35 sets?!” I exclaimed. “They’re all broken in, but they’re different speeds,” he reasoned. “I practice with different speeds just to get a feel for them, because you’re not always going to be able to play with your own bags. You might play with your partner’s, right? So it’s better to practice with a fast bag here and a slow bag there.”
The secret to getting good at cornhole“How did you get as good as you are?” I asked Carlos. “Because you only started playing in, what… was it 2022?” “October of ‘22,” Carlos nodded. “What’s your secret?” “I practice all the time,” he said without skipping a beat. “Even in the winter?” “Even more in the winter,” Carlos said. “It’s 35 feet from my front door to the back window, and I have a vaulted ceiling. So I’m throwing bags even when it’s cold and practicing every day.” “Why do you love cornhole so much?” I asked. “Well, it’s always nice to place in the top three,” Carlos said. “March of last year was the first tournament where I won first place in the lower bracket, and from that point on, I just got addicted.” “And now, you play in the upper bracket, right?” “Right now I’m teetering in the uppers,” he said. “Kind of between the upper and the lower. There will be times where I’ll do great, and I can pretty much hang with the uppers. But there’s a lot of guys in the uppers that just destroy me. They make me look silly when I play against them.” He’s not joking. Carlos is good, but there are pros who play in some of the local leagues who are ESPN-good. At that level, it’s a game of blocking, because elite players will get all four bags in the hole every single time—“four-baggers”, they’re called. Your only hope is to block them. But even then, they’ll bypass your block by popping a bag straight up into the air and dropping it into the hole without ever touching the board, nothing-but-net-style. An “air mail”. “Do you know how many podiums you’ve made?” Carlos checked his profile in the app and showed me his phone. “25 first place, 22 second place, and 19 third place,” I read. “Wow!” “Being on the podium is such a rush. It feels good to place,” Carlos said. “Even if I get third, hey—I’m happy with that!”
Board Queens“How did you find out about cornhole, Shelby?” I asked. “My husband and I enjoyed cornhole in our backyard, and he started playing with some guys he found in a group on Facebook called Cornhole Idaho,” she said. “There was also Treasure Valley Cornhole, Those two were pretty much it at the time. I saw it as kind of a ‘guy thing’ and never went. But then one day, I went to watch him play, and I saw that there were some women playing, and I was like, ‘Oh, okay. I could probably do this.’” “Board Queens didn’t exist back then, did it?” “No, Board Queens only started a couple years ago,” Shelby said. “Before that, there weren’t as many of us. But we started getting a lot more new people and, before you knew it, we had around 25 women playing.” “That’s awesome,” I said. “I love Board Queens. It’s one of my favorite groups to play with.” “It’s a great place to start if you feel intimidated,” Shelby said. “Just play with the Board Queens first. Come out and play with the women. You're going to feel comfortable. It’s all ages, all backgrounds; everybody is welcome.” “It’s such a fun group,” I said. “It’s not overly competitive,” Shelby added. “You don’t feel so pressured. That said, we do also have some women who are real ass-kickers. They’re good. And it’s great, you know. You want to be like them, which makes you want to get better and throw better.” “You were telling me you’ve made a lot of friends in this community since you started playing,” I said. “Oh, I’ve made a whole lot of them,” she said. “I’ve doubled my Facebook friends just from cornhole alone. They’re good people. I haven’t met anybody I didn’t like.”
Cornhole IdahoSome of my favorite local tournaments are put on by Cornhole Idaho. They’re my favorite because first, they’re close by if you live in Boise. Second, because, unlike many of the more advanced tournaments, which often cost $20, $30, or more to enter, these are usually only $10. Third, because the people who attend have become like family to me. I’ll never forget the month I had some travel and didn’t play for awhile: I didn’t think anyone would even notice I was gone, but I returned to find many people had missed me. Everyone wondered where I was. As someone who’d first shown up just last year knowing absolutely no one, having dozens of people miss me nearly brought a tear to my eye. Two of my favorite $10 tournaments are coming up this week:
Both tournaments are casual and beginner-friendly. Again, download the Scoreholio app to see more details and register in advance. Do make sure to register ASAP because the events fill up fast! Especially the Wednesday game. If either of the events are full by the time you download the Scoreholio app to register, I’d still encourage you to come out. We might be able to get you in if someone doesn’t show up. Worse case, you’ll meet some cool people and pick up some tips. Keep an eye out for future events which are usually posted a week or so beforehand. Tip: Everyone shows up 30 minutes before the listed start time to pay their entry fee and get in some practice throws before the tournament begins.
A growing community“How in the world is it possible that just $10 gets me entrance to the tournament AND you’re giving me a free drink ticket?” I asked Ryan Clow, who currently runs Cornhole Idaho. Keen on growing the local cornhole community, he was excited to hear I was writing a guest issue of From Boise. “The Hawks and I have a really good relationship,” Ryan explained. He told me it was the cornhole events he hosted that were part of what helped keep them alive during the pandemic. “The same with our fall events at Sockeye Brewing; they discount their beers all the way to $2 a can.” “Well, I don’t know how you do it,” I said. “Every time I redeem my drink ticket, I feel like I’m stealing.” “It’s really just about creating a family-oriented event,” Ryan said. He tells me they’re not trying to make money. They pour everything back into the events. “Somewhere that you can bring your kids and hang out for the evening—but also where the competitive guys can come in and help us teach new people how to hold the bag and throw.” “How did you get into cornhole?” I asked. “I have to give a huge shout out to a couple of my really good friends, Travis Fullmer and Kevin Cordova. They were the ones who originally started Cornhole Idaho and who I would consider to have brought cornhole to Idaho as an organization and a club. They actually started at Rattlesnake Campground. After it got pretty big with around 30 teams, they decided to bring it back down from the campground into the city in 2016. That’s when a lot of us who’d just been playing in our backyards started showing up.” “I’ve heard you say multiple times you want the cornhole community to grow. Why is that?” “As you’ve seen, Kara, our community is just amazing. I mean, there’s not a lot like it out there. I played softball, I played in bowling leagues, dart leagues, pool leagues… the cornhole community is family. It’s really hard to explain that to somebody without showing them. You can tell someone to their face, ‘You’ve got 65 friends waiting for you at the Hawks stadium every Wednesday,’ but unless they come see it for themselves—feel it, touch it, smell it—they don’t get it.” You can find out more about Cornhole Idaho at cornholeidaho.com. To find upcoming tournaments, download the Scoreholio app at scoreholio.com. Thanks for reading! With love from Boise, Marissa
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From Boise
Every Tuesday, read a story about a person, place, piece of Boise history, or local happening. Every Thursday, get a huge list of things to do over the weekend. No news, no politics - just the fun stuff.