I made as much playing cornhole as I did teaching elementary school, so I quit my job to go full-time

• Rosie Streker, 40, is a two-time cornhole world championship winner in the women’s doubles category.
• She quit teaching elementary school when she realized she could make more money from playing.
• She now competes in the American Cornhole League, which has aired on ESPN and CBS.

This as-told-to essay is based on a transcribed conversation with Rosie Streker, a 40-year-old professional cornhole player from South Florida, about quitting her job teaching elementary school to play the sport. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I picked up playing cornhole 10 years ago. It was originally just for fun at a local bar that had a cornhole weekend league. At the time, I was the only girl who played, but I was winning tournaments.

My now-husband, Davis, started playing at the same time and joined me in entering competitions at other local bars in Florida, and we were like, “Wow, we’re really good at this.” That was until we left our area and got our butts kicked. But at that point, I was just hooked.

At the time, I was playing for $1,000 prize pools, and I thought we were doing amazing. It was when I won more in a night of cornhole than a week of teaching elementary school that I started considering taking it seriously.

Once I got into the sport, it was a hard balance to strike with work. You get to school at 7 a.m. for a very emotionally draining job before going to play cornhole at 6 p.m., and events run till midnight. I had a serious lack of sleep.

I already had one kid when, in February 2020, I gave birth to twin girls. So I took four months off work, returning in May. I went part time for the next school year.

Working full time as a teacher and competing in cornhole wasn’t a viable option anymore. A lot of traveling comes with cornhole. While I was playing in tournaments, my husband would be working from home, and family members would come over to help look after the children — a lot of childcare dried up during the pandemic.

I’d earned $50,000 a year teaching full time and realized I was also earning $50,000 a year playing cornhole. I started to consider quitting teaching altogether, which would let me focus on cornhole as well as have more time with my kids. It all started to make sense, and I quit at the end of the school year.

It was very bittersweet. I loved teaching. I loved being competitive about helping my students improve their grades as much as they could. Or figuring out what a child needed to excel in a class.

I’ve taken my teaching skills into cornhole. I enjoy teaching new players how to throw at the fundraiser and charity events that I run with my husband — who also became a professional cornhole player. He was my doubles partner until he quit last winter.

We joined the American Cornhole League about four years ago, which was when we saw an increase in quality of production as well as prize money.

A large part of my earnings is sponsorships. I get more sponsorships than others in the sport, mostly because my husband markets it well and also because I’m the most-televised female player in the sport.

Sponsors can pay about $15,000 to $25,000 to be on your ACL jersey. Since cornhole has exploded in popularity during the pandemic, I’m making more money from sponsorships than ever before.

The most success I’ve had was winning the women’s doubles world championship in 2019 and 2021, with my partner Sam Finley.

Winning in 2019 was amazing because it was the first Sam and I won together, and it felt so huge. But winning in 2021 felt the best because we beat the girls who won the 2020 championship while I was off. There was doubt over whether I could come back and win after the pregnancy.

ESPN and CBS recently started broadcasting ACL. When you’re being televised, you can hear the announcers speaking. A lot of players wear headphones to block it out, but I like to be in the moment and take it all in.

Sometimes the announcers will calculate the probability and say what shot I should or shouldn’t take. At times, I haven’t even considered what they suggest, and I change my approach. When I then miss my shot because of their advice, I kick myself because I should have stuck with my gut.

Before, in smaller leagues, there’d be a Facebook Live event, and I’d think, “Wow! I’m famous.” Now it’s replayed on ESPN. That’s pretty cool.