In a few short weeks you will have been initiated into our unique college culture where the church is the basement, the holy sacrament is Keystone Light and 2 a.m. EBAs is the manna of heaven. If you haven't already guessed, pong is our religion. You will probably spend more hours hitting a ping pong ball around a basement that reeks of boot and broken dreams than you can currently imagine. And while I am a firm believer in the need for people to learn through experience, I know that I would have appreciated a helpful how-to guide to this most integral of Dartmouth rituals when I was a wee first-year student. So freshmen, consider the following tutorial scripture.
Firstly, understand that this is not beer pong or Beirut. Leave those terms in your parent's garage where they belong. If you've spent your high school career perfecting your ball-tossing skills, congratulations! You've mastered a skill that is almost completely useless at Dartmouth. However, you might never have to begin a game with the opening serve, as pong games start with a brief volley of hand tosses to determine which team will serve first. Once this has been determined, pick up your paddles (with the handles cut off) and let the game (or games, if you keep winning) begin.
In order to get into a position where you can serve, however, you need to get on table. Go up to the chillest-looking dude or dudette (while there is a lull in the volley) and nonchalantly ask, "What's the line?" When you get told that you've got "fours", that means you're going to wait for three more games to be played before you're up.
Mindlessly spend the next couple of hours watching how the best players ball out and reminding yourself to hit the ball above shoulder-height or higher.
Especially focus on serving technique, where beginning players often struggle the most. You bounce the ball off your own side of the table and serve to the player opposite you. As you become more versed in the art of serving, you will pick up some new moves spin serves, for example that will deter your opponent and impress sweet bros hanging around the basement. But for now, just remember the basic rules of serving.
You have two to three chances depending on the house rules' of wherever you are playing to do so before being penalized by drinking a half cup from your side of the table.
The key to serving, and to pong in general, is to make sure you hit it high. Nothing is worse than dealing with an opponent who consistently lowballs' every hit. Don't be that kid.
A sink by the opposing team means that the whole cup has to be consumed, while a hit means that you must drink half.
You can save the ball by hitting it back across the table or throwing or slamming your paddle at it an aggressive display of effort that will earn you serious street credit if executed successfully though house rules regulate whether your teammate can assist. One thing you can't do, at most houses, anyway, is blow the ball out. This ain't Beirut, and you'll get foam all over your face.
When four skilled players get a fierce volley going, it will become clear to you why pong is called "the beautiful game." There's nothing better than watching the parabolic arc of a well-hit ball sail through the smoky basement air and splash into a full cup of Keystone Light except for doing it yourself. The gratification of this experience is only enhanced when playing against opponents that you actually dislike in real life.
If you love the thrill of competition but not the thousands of extra calories that chugging cases of Keystone entails, don't despair. There are ways to play pong without getting blacked out and still being a king.
It's hard to pull off water pong unless you're playing in the Bissell basement or are an in-season athlete, so for the health-conscious fratstar-in-training, never feel pressured to drink. Milk your freshman status and discreetly pour the beer under the table or even on a friend. Earn some charity points by passing the full-cup to another thirsty freshman observer.
Or you can go the other route and emphasize your apathy about the whole situation. If your opponents try to call you out for acting soft, roll your eyes and tell your partner that "you don't need to drink to have a good time." Boom, you have the moral high ground and anything that your opponent says in response will automatically make him/her look like a total, insensitive jerk. Who cares if you were blowing a foghorn and yelling "Chugga chugga boot boot, all aboard the blackout train" to your floormates in Russell Sage an hour before while taking vodka shots out of test tubes?
As with most things, the best strategy when it comes to pong is to live and learn. Whether you're playing shrub, tree, harbor, social, sequoia or any of pong's infinite variations, you'll be sure to have a good time.
Just remember that everyone started somewhere. And that the kids who are really sick at pong have spent much more time than they probably should have volleying ping pong balls around a basement that smells like teen spirit (i.e. urine, alcohol and other questionable liquids).
