I’ve been taking a pounding at ping pong! It used to be that I could beat Tristan for a game or two here or there. Lately, in game after game, he’s been clobbering me; trouncing and devastating me! I absolutely refuse to chalk up my losess to a weakening of my game, which leaves me with one bearably plausible explanation, namely, a marked improvement in his game.
I’ve given it far too much thought and analysis. His game has always been less about placement than it is about power; he’s been hitting with more speed and consistency. Last night, as the clock ticked toward Canada Day, I finally got back in the win column! It had been so long since I’d been there, I barely recognized the place. Tristan’s obviously done some decorating which, I suppose, is understandable because the win column is always an enjoyable stay.
By Tristan’s count, what kind of a child counts these things, I had lost fourteen straight games before winning one last night! The drought has been long and destabilizing.
I blame the bench press! Since the bench press came into our lives, my ping pong game has, coincidentally, headed south! It may be more honest to say my ping pong game hasn't gone anywhere. It's still plopped lazily in a lawn chair sipping chilled cola, while Tristan’s ping pong game has bounded north!
As his arms swell with muscularity, mine flounder in flab. It’s time to fight fire with fire!
These days, I’ve got 10 pounds on one side of the barbell and 10 pounds on the other, plus 5 pounds for the barbell itself, that makes 25 pounds that, with strenuous huffing and puffing, will lift me back to my proper place at the pinnacle of ping pong!
Just as I, several times a day, give thanks for my health and the health of my nuclear family, I also give thanks for being born Canadian.
As I build toward bench press history and, as I build toward re-claiming the Father/Son Ping Pong Crown, or at least borrowing it for a game here and there, this truly is a Canada Day to celebrate!.