Thursday, 13 January 2011
This is a guest post from Just A Guy Thing.
The timing of the World Series of Beer Pong is always a pain in the ass. After the holidays and an always-lethal New Year's Ever/New Year's Day double tap, the largest organized beer pong tournament in the world takes place at the not-so-elegant Flamingo Hotel and Casino. Hundreds of beer pong teams fill the meeting space, tossing ping pong balls back and forth until only one team remains.
The contest is neutered a little, of course, in the interest of protecting the organizers from lawsuits. A handful of the cups are water, and you don't necessarily have to drink the opposing team's full cups if you lose. Lame. However, the spirit is there in spades. Last year I was part of a group that went down to document the absurdity and had an absolute blast. The contestants were all dorks, often dressing in matching baseball jerseys, and in one amazing instance, Mario and Luigi.
The room smelled like 500 beer pong players, which was disgusting, but having snuck in a flask, my breath smelled enough like bourbon after a few minutes to mask the scent of the players. Besides, if the scent ever gets too strong, you can retreat to the prep room, where players can hone their jobs in a more relaxed environment until it's time to get your game face on.
There are no losers in beer pong. Except for that one guy who was so drunk when he started playing that he threw up on himself and fell over. That guy was a total loser.