12/18/25
Three months ago, our marketing team was in a rut. The usual Thursday happy hours had become predictable—cramped around a table, half the team staring at phones, conversations splitting into the same two or three pairs. We needed something different.
Then someone suggested Flight Club.
I'll be honest: I hadn't thrown a dart since a questionable pub crawl in 2019. And I definitely didn't consider myself "sporty." But that's the thing about Social Darts—it turns out you don't need to be.
When we walked into the Denver venue, the first thing that struck me was the energy. It's not a sports bar. It's not a club. It's this brilliant in-between space with carousel bar vibes, proper cocktails, and these gorgeous tech-enabled dartboards that do all the scoring for you. No maths required. No arguments about whether that was actually a triple 20.
We grabbed some craft cocktails (the spicy margarita is dangerous), ordered a round of poke tacos, and divided into teams. Within ten minutes, Janet from accounts—who'd barely said three words at our last four outings—was trash-talking the creative team like a professional. Marcus, who I'd worked with for two years without really knowing, turned out to be both hilariously competitive and genuinely kind when someone (me) threw three darts into the wall.
The games themselves are clever. They're designed so a first-timer can hold their own against someone who actually knows what they're doing. You're not just throwing at numbers—there are different game modes that keep things interesting and give everyone a chance to contribute.
But here's what I didn't expect: the conversations that happened between throws. Something about the format—the waiting, the cheering, the shared experience of spectacular failure—opened people up. We learned that our quiet backend developer plays in a jazz trio. That our newest hire moved here from Philadelphia specifically because she fell in love with Colorado hiking on a work trip. That our manager, intimidating in meetings, does a pitch-perfect impression of a disappointed sports commentator.
We've been back four times since. It's become our thing.
Last week, we brought clients. They closed the deal. Coincidence? Maybe. But there's something about shared laughter and friendly competition that builds trust faster than any conference room.
If your team is stuck in the same old routine, do yourself a favour: book a playing area, order the truffle fries, and prepare to discover that Carol from HR has genuinely terrifying aim.
See you at the oche.