Tuesday, March 15, 2011

We subscribe to a different kind of table talk here, and it felt like you were long overdue for a courtside update. When we last spoke on the matter, I had committed to rebuilding my paddle and acquiring a more aggressive style of play, and I’ve held fast to these pledges. The reason why I’ve done so, and why I choose to devote time to something as silly as ping-pong, is because it’s the only way I’ll get my heart rate up during a typical workday. This isn’t counting the walk to the parking garage–or the trips to the break room, obviously–and I only wish I were kidding here.

My paddle remains intact with all of its original materials. Turns out there’s a ways to go before my competence outpaces my equipment, and the ol’ girl still has some mileage in her. Is that sexist? Feminizing it, much like how people sometimes refer to a car, ship, or rifle? I guess it would be, especially if you’re a chick reading this who also happens to be shaped like a ping-pong paddle. That would be raw. But the point still stands: what really needed rebuilding wasn’t the blade. It was myself, profound as that may be.

And rebuild I have. It began with attempts to smash pretty much everything, which didn’t work out so well. That’s what’s needed, though, whenever you learn something different. You’re basically parsing the spectrum, in a way, and trying your newfound skill everywhere and anywhere, until you find that golden median and learn how to use it judiciously. Puzzling through when to defend, when to deflect, and when to press, well, that’s the fun part.

It felt freeing to possess a wider menu of moves. Merely having these moves, however, isn’t enough. The punchline is the play itself, to which everything else is secondary. It’s not a question of always winning the point, either, because heaven knows I’ve lost countless games in the past month. You’re in search of that one moment when you’re in the flow, focused intently on the ball, your paddle weightless as you paint on your dark green canvas. There’s this feeling of agency, and win or lose, you alone claim authorship of your story.