Ask Middlebury’s Clint Bierman about Shweebee, a flying disc game that he’s been obsessed with for more than 20 years, and his eyes widen with enthusiasm that borders on religious fervor. This is the face of a true believer: Bierman is convinced that Shweebee is a million-dollar idea. But for him, the game isn’t some get-rich-quick scheme. It’s serious backyard fun, and he’s on a crusade to get everyone in America to try it.
But first, where did the name come from?
“It’s a contraction of ‘should we be,'” he explained. “As in, ‘Shweebee eating right now?'”
“People are saying it without even knowing it,” chimed in Paul Choiniere of Bridport, one of Bierman’s two business partners. (The other, Greg Naughton, is an investor from Connecticut.) Their goal is to turn their flying disc game into the next cornhole, horseshoes, Kan Jam or Spikeball. Assembled entirely in Vermont with nearly all American-made components — only the flying discs are imported — Shweebee is simple enough to learn in minutes but challenging enough to play for hours.
From inside the Shweebee manufacturing facility — aka Choiniere’s garage on his 120-acre beef farm — the two longtime friends explained the rules of the game and how it came to be Bierman’s obsession.
Shweebee is a lawn game played with two teams of two players apiece. Each team stands behind a “base,” which consists of two upright parallel poles spaced 16 inches apart. On top of each pole sits a plastic cup. The object of the game is to be the first team to score five points. To earn points, players take turns trying to toss a disc between their opponents’ poles from 20 to 25 feet away.
When one team sails a disc through the opponent’s uprights without hitting either pole, it’s called a “smooth deuce,” and the opposing team gets one rebuttal throw. If the opponent also tosses a smooth deuce, no points are awarded. But if the rebuttal misses its mark, the first team gets two points.
“When you get a smooth deuce rebuttal, it’s the single greatest feeling in the world,” Bierman said with a smile.
If the disc hits one or both of the uprights hard enough in its “shweet spot,” an internal spring will launch the plastic cup into the air. If a defender catches the cup with one hand, no point is awarded. If the cup lands on the ground, the throwing team earns one point. If both cups are launched, points are awarded for the number of cups that hit the ground.
Like many backyard pastimes, Shweebee began as a drinking game; hence the red Solo-like plastic cups and the mandatory one-handed catch. In the drinking version, players must hold a beer in their non-throwing and -catching hand.
Bierman, 50, didn’t actually invent the game. In 2004, he was visiting Milton Academy in Massachusetts to play a gig with the Grift, the rock band he cofounded and still leads. In the distance he noticed some kids playing a version of it, using PVC pipes stuck in the ground, with Solo cups on top. Bierman watched them play for about an hour until he figured out the rules. Later that summer, he and some friends began playing their own version, which they called Ding.
For the next 16 years, Bierman, a professional musician, composer, teacher and recording studio owner, played his homemade version but didn’t have the bandwidth to develop it further. Then, in 2020, when the pandemic shuttered all live music venues, Bierman got to thinking about how he could bring the game to market. To do so, he realized, required a patentable element.
“Shweebee is the future of yard gaming.” Clint Bierman
Enter Choiniere, 51, a self-employed mechanic who previously worked for heavy equipment manufacturer Caterpillar. A whiz with machinery ranging from snowmobiles and dirt bikes to excavators and tractor trailers — he has his own motocross course on the farm — Choiniere devised the spring-loaded aluminum pole for which the company was awarded a patent a few weeks ago.
Because the name Ding! was already a trademarked card game, Bierman renamed the product Shweebee. The partners originally designed it with a yellow-and-black color scheme to capitalize on the “bee” in the name. However, when they realized that both Spikeball and Kan Jam use those colors, they embraced the game’s roots and switched to Solo cup red instead.
Bierman actually modeled their business approach on that of Spikeball, another two-on-two yard game in which players try to hit a ball into a round net so that their opponents are unable to hit it back. Spikeball’s founder, Chris Ruder, didn’t invent that game either but discovered it during a trip to Hawaii in 2003. Because the original trademark had expired, Ruder bought it for $800, made some patentable alterations and relaunched it in 2008. He then visited parks throughout Chicago to get players to try it. By 2023, Forbes noted, Spikeball reported an annual revenue of $19 million.
Shweebee isn’t there yet. The partners sold their first set in 2022 and have since sold 40 more, with the goal of reaching another 100 sales by the end of 2025. The game, available at shweebee.com and in the Middlebury Shop, sells for $199, quite a bit higher than the retail price of Spikeball and Kan Jam, which cost about $60. Shweebee’s price is higher than Bierman and Choiniere would prefer, they said, though it’s below the production cost of about $215. Said Bierman, “We lose money on every set we sell.”
Nevertheless, their goal right now is to get the game out there and played, especially among people who are already adept at tossing discs. Last year Shweebee started an ambassador program with collegiate Ultimate Frisbee teams, including one at Middlebury College.
“It’s super fun,” said Chris Young, owner and operator of Disc Golf Vermont, who puts on 15 to 20 disc golf tournaments each year and who also designs and builds courses for cities and towns. In 2024, Shweebee sponsored several Disc Golf Vermont tournaments and provided game sets for disc golfers to play in between rounds.
“It’s a great little side game as I run tee time tournaments,” said Young, who described it as a more sophisticated version of Polish horseshoes, another flying disc game in which players try to knock bottles or cans off ski poles or hiking sticks pounded into the ground. “This is great for when your buddy is on the course and you’re hanging out.”
Unlike disc golf, Shweebee is played with a standard 175-gram disc like those used in Ultimate Frisbee tournaments.
“We needed something calmer,” Choiniere explained about the lighter and softer discs, which are more user-friendly in backyard settings where children and pets might be present.
In fact, Bierman and Choiniere are working on a youth version of the game — Teeny Shweebee perhaps? — more suitable for gym classes and summer camps. With the youth version, the poles will be shorter, and, rather than using what look like keg party cups, it’ll shoot spongy, pool noodle-like projectiles.
“Shweebee is the future of yard gaming,” Bierman said, more than once. When asked, half-jokingly, if the Grift have written a song about the game, he said he references it onstage constantly, while his bandmates roll their eyes.
“Anyone who sees us regularly knows about Shweebee because I don’t shut up about it,” he added. “I can play music for the rest of my life — and I will. But I want Shweebee to be my life.”
Spoken like a true believer.
Shweebee will hold a grand opening tournament on Thursday, June 12, 5 p.m., at the Essex Experience, featuring live music from the Grift. Learn more at shweebee.com.
The original print version of this article was headlined “Game of Throwns | Shweebee, a new Vermont-made flying disc game, aims to become America’s next cornhole”
This article appears in The Summer Preview 2025.



