I was corrected recently during a conversation when I said that darts was one of the most entertaining games I've ever had the pleasure of watching.

I've viewed many championship highlights, and I was consistently amazed at how the focused, drunken spectacles could have me so engrossed and on the edge of my seat. With every roar of the crowd and spirited adulation from a trembling commentator, I found myself swallowed more and more by a world I never would've previously believed could be so popular.

This, this, and this are a few chucklesome and epic examples.

I respect the game. Clearly it takes immense knowledge and skill to dominate others while playing it, and (as is the case with every great game) it has its share of amusing, crude, and fascinating characters to fall in love with.

But that doesn't make it a sport.

Although I was passionately corrected, I hold it true that darts is not a sport, and neither is any billiards variant.

The definition of the word sport reads as follows:

an activity involving physical exertion and skill in which an individual or team competes against another or others for entertainment.

British: an occasion on which people compete in various athletic activities.

The definition of the word exertion reads:

the use of a lot of mental or physical effort.

And the definition of the word athletic reads:

physically strong, fit, and active.

Darts, much like billiards, does not require physical excellence in order to compete and win. In both games, a person can be morbidly obese and still conquer others with technical brilliance; something often stunning to behold, but far from athletic.

As a result, both can be more appropriately placed under the umbrella of the following definitions for the word game:

a form of competitive activity or sport played according to rules.

a physical or mental competition conducted according to rules with the participants in direct opposition to each other.

Note that both definitions of game include physicality as a prerequisite, but exclude physical exertion, struggle, or toil.

My point is that, in order for something with rules, peripherals, and participants to be classified as a sport, not only is outstanding athleticism required, but a person's physical health must often be put at risk.

Of course, some sports are also games, but that doesn't change their shared fundamental necessity for the points listed above.

Skiing, gymnastics, swimming, baseball, volleyball, boxing, biking, running, figure skating, football, fencing, hockey, judo, wrestling, tennis, skateboarding, archery, and many other similar endeavors are all sports, and it's because they require exceptional athleticism and boast serious physical risks.

Contrary to what some may think, sports like diving, golf, rowing, and even luge are also held in the same regard. Each requires intense physical training in order to compete at a high level and also teases brutal risks for the unprepared and/or unlucky.

Whereas the only things necessary to excel at darts or billiards are knowledge, practice, and time. Chess, bowling, croquet, and poker also fall into the same class of skill. They require considerable technical training to become marvelous at, but lack the necessity for impressive athleticism and come with minor physical risks.

In other words, they are all games, not sports.

In my opinion, when making the effort to classify something as either sport or game, issues arise because we all want what we so dearly love to be respected. And often that means we must, regardless of the contrary, call our favorite games sports in the hopes of garnering wider interest.

But there's nothing wrong with accepting that darts, much like billiards, chess, and bowling, is a game.

In my case, I've fallen in love with billiards. It's a game that I'm sure to play (if I'm lucky) well into my oldest years, and I'll never think any less of it because it's truly not a sport.

After all, history's shown that a set of games can be just as important as any sporting phenomenon, so miss me with this stupid fucking argument.