For some Canadians, cornhole is more than just a backyard game – it’s a competitive sport

Ryan Dubeau, left, watches Michael Ryan throw during the weekly Barrie Cornhole League tournament at the Lion’s Gate banquet hall.TANNIS TOOHEY/The Globe and Mail

It is Wednesday night at the Lion’s Gate banquet hall in Barrie, Ont., an hour north of Toronto. A Toronto Blue Jays playoff game is on the big screen, but Michael Ryan is focused on the task before him: getting a beanbag through the hole in a tilted board exactly 27 feet away.

He grips one of his Viper-brand beanbags, draws his arm back, plants his foot and throws, putting a slight spin on the bag to guide its trajectory. It lands on the board with a satisfying thump, slides forward and disappears – plop – through the hole. “Nice bag, Mike,” says a competitor.

For most Canadians, cornhole is a casual summer game best played in the backyard with a cold beer. But for a growing number of people like Mr. Ryan, it is a serious competitive sport, complete with elite players, national championships, $200 bag sets and online rankings.

Leanne Power, right, watches her opponent throw during the weekly Barrie tournament.TANNIS TOOHEY

The leaders of Cornhole Canada even want to make it an Olympic event. The organization’s president, Sebastian Gianino, concedes that “a lot of people think I’m crazy,” but if breakdancing can be in the Olympics, why not cornhole?

With about 50 leagues across the country, he hopes the ranks will grow to 3,000 players this year. The nationals in Edmonton in August drew more than 220 skilled competitors.

Most people, including Mr. Ryan, still play more for the camaraderie than for glory. In a distracted world where it is easy to sit alone staring at a screen, cornhole brings people together.

But Mr. Gianino says the sport demands sharp concentration and even endurance. At the high levels, a game of cornhole can be a real “grind-fest,” with players repeatedly walking back and forth between the two opposing boards to toss their bags. “So imagine doing that for one hour plus, in a hot arena.”

The exact origins of cornhole are murky, but it seems to have taken root in the American Midwest, where players started using bags of corn to hit a target. It took off in the past couple of decades with the rise of groups such as the American Cornhole League, which boasts professional players in both Canada and the United States and gets play-by-play coverage on ESPN.

Cornhole is a fundamentally simple game, but for competitive players, it can get more complicated.TANNIS TOOHEY/The Globe and Mail

The fundamentals of the game are simple enough. You huck a bag at a board with a round hole near the top. If it falls in the hole, you get three points; if it lands on the board but doesn’t fall in the hole, one point. Games go up to 21. After that, it gets more complex.

Start with the bags. Regulation models are six inches square and weigh between 15.5 and 16.25 ounces. These days, most are no longer filled with corn. Cornhole Canada’s rulebook, which is 21 pages long, says that “bags may not be filled with any material other than plastic resin.”

Most come with a slick side and a sticky side. Numbered ratings indicate how “fast” the bag is. Many players have several sets. Mr. Ryan, a 58-year-old building inspector, has so many that he arrives with a wheeled cart to hold them all.

Now consider the grip. Most players want their bags to sail flat toward the board without tumbling. So, a lot depends on how you hold the bags just before you release them. Mr. Ryan favours the butterfly grip: You pinch the bag at the centre so that the four corners form an X shape, similar to a butterfly’s wings.

Building inspector Michael Ryan tosses a bag.TANNIS TOOHEY

The toss itself involves technique and strategy. The simplest way to score is to get your bag straight in the hole, of course. If you get all four bags in – a “four-holer” – that’s 12 points right there.

But what if, by accident or design, your rival lands a bag on the board and it just sits there: a blocker, as it’s called. You might try an “air-mail shot,” sending your bag straight into the hole without touching the board. Or a “cut bag,” curving the bag around and in. Or, if you’re really fancy, a “roll bag,” in which you get your bag to roll over the blocker and down the hole.

“Angles, spins, curves – it’s math,” says John Meinzinger, 42, who went to the nationals this summer and took home a trophy with his doubles partner.

All of this can sound pretty geeky to an outsider, but cornhole does seem to fulfill some real human needs.

The need to play, to begin with. Leanne Power, 51, has kids, a dog, a husband and a job as an administrative assistant at a local college. “I’m really busy,” she sighs.

She comes to the Wednesday-night tournaments to sip a strawberry vodka cooler, wear her trademark hot-pink runners and toss a few bags with the “forever friends” she has made here. She was never good at sports in high school, but enjoys testing herself against others. She calls herself a “competitive sore loser.”

Leanne Power and John Meinzinger at the Barrie tournament. Ms. Power says she's made 'forever friends' in the Barrie league.TANNIS TOOHEY/The Globe and Mail

The need to form organized groups, for another. Cornhole Canada has a governing board and 38 pages of bylaws. It even has a form for injury claims, though how you would injure yourself playing cornhole is unclear.

Above all, it fulfills the need to connect with others. The weekly Barrie tournament draws all kinds: a former soldier who served in Kosovo, the manager of a construction office, a retired hospital clerk. Between games, they sit chatting, joshing and drinking as the Jays run up the score and the sound system plays Corey Hart’s Sunglasses at Night.

A player once even proposed to his future wife by writing “will you marry me” on four cornhole bags.

Mr. Ryan is having a so-so outing. The game is more psychological than physical. If you believe you are going to flub it, you will.

He throws several bags short of the board and onto the carpet. “Oh, Mike,” says his competitor, shaking her head. Then he slides a bag straight into the hole for three points. Her face lights up. “Nice bag.”