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Beer pong is an essential American pastime with a long and storied history. If you read the Bible, you will find some compelling evidence that the game of beer pong was invented by Jesus Christ himself. It’s in the book of Steve, I think. I’m not sure; I haven’t read the Bible yet. It’s way too long. I’m waiting for the movie.
Beer pong’s one of the main go-to drinking games, and for good reason: it’s great, ol’ fashioned, wholesome fun. It’s simple, yet spiritual. But there’s more to it than that. Beer pong has a special place in our hearts because, for most of us, it was probably the first drinking game in which we ever participated. We were young, greasy-haired, acne-riddled, brace-faced awkward teens when we discovered this sacred tradition. We were at some high school party holding a dirty red cup and saw people playing the game. With childlike curiosity, we watched it in awe, eagerly awaiting an offer to join in on the festivities. We eventually did, and it’s all history from there.
And that’s why my life is such a waking nightmare. It is with a heavy heart that I publicly confess something — I’m bad at beer pong. Terrible at it. Absolutely, pathetically horrible at it. People watch me play and they laugh at me like I’m some kind of freak. I’m basically the party version of a modern Elephant Man. But to quote the Elephant Man “I am NOT an animal.”
I’m not going to sugarcoat my experiences: it’s not been an easy life. It’s not fun to constantly throw the ball way too far like I have the depth perception of someone with irreparable brain damage. It’s not fun to think I “learned my lesson,” throw the ball softer, then watch as it only flies a few pathetic inches. It’s not fun to do all of this while a bunch of drunken assholes watch the whole debacle and chuckle at my misfortune.
But here’s the real problem: being crappy at beer pong isn’t just embarrassing, it’s downright dangerous — especially if you’re up against an especially skilled player. The fact that I’m even alive to tell you these tales is a miracle in itself. I’ve had some pretty close calls in the past, as the amount of drinks I have to chug during the average game of beer pong is enough to kill André the Giant three times over. My liver constructed a Change.org petition to finally force me to stop playing the game, and it has over 10,000 signatures so far. My lightweight ass can’t handle this Saw movie-level liquor-related torture anymore. It’s just too painful. The amount of blackout nights and terrifying hangovers beer pong has caused me are off the charts. I have a Vietnam flashback whenever I see a ping pong ball.
It’s not easy, but it’s my life. I’ve learned to be strong. I guess you could say I’m a survivor..