A few short years ago, very few Americans had heard of cornhole. Today, thanks to some big media coverage and word-of-mouth, corn hole is popping up everywhere.



The game itself is easy to understand. Players take turns tossing a small bag filled with dried corn at an angled plywood target. The scoring system is simple, the rules could fit on the back of a business card, and everyone from tiny tots to their great-grandparents can understand the rules and take their turn tossing the bags.

The history of corn hole is a little trickier to grasp. There are a few different accounts of the game's origins. One tale involves a nineteenth century Midwestern farmer by the name of Jebediah McGillicuddy. Some firmly believe that this individual concocted cornhole in his barn as a means of passing time with friends and family.

There is no solid evidence to support either the existence of Jebediah or the involvement of any particular 1800s agriculturalist in the development of cornhole, though. The idea of someone named Jebediah with an Irish surname inventing the game after working the fields seems far-fetched to many.

We do know that the first documented corn hole games popped up on the west side of Cincinnati. Corn hole became a popular community and bar game in the area and developed a local following. Eventually, the "East Siders" caught on and baggo exploded across the city. It became a popular tailgating diversion at Cincinnati Bengals' games. People making the trip into Cinci for NFL action saw the game for the first time, grew interested, and helped in its spread.

In 2005, the popular morning news television program "Today" did a brief feature on cornhole and its growing popularity in the Midwest. This shot of national attention also seems to have fueled the games growth.

Unlike its origins, its recent surge in popularity is easier to document. Today, one can still play baggo in Ohio. They might also find a cornhole match on the sunny California coast, in the heart of urban New York, behind dusty Texas bars or in every major sports team's pre-game parking lot.

The corn hole story starts small and mysteriously, but appears ready to end with highly visible global conclusion.