Ping Pong Shenanigans

For those of you who don't know me, I'm kind of a big deal in the ping pong world. I have a forehand that could slay a mountain goat, a serve that makes Greece's GDP drop 10%, and my backhand slice is pretty good too.

"He's just too righteous!"-Greece

With this in mind, I decided to try out for U of T's table tennis team.

Now, this may surprise you if you're not Canadian, but University of Toronto has a sizeable number of Asian students. And let's face it, without being bigoted, racist, or even stereotypical, I can say that Asians are good at ping pong. Really. Really. Good.

This just in, Greece has just gone bankrupt and exploded

So I'm understandably going into these tryouts with the knowledge that the odds are not in my favour. I've done intramural ping pong before, so I know that U of T has many, many skilled players. Nevertheless, I wanted to see how I compare, so I went.

When I got to the tryouts, I noticed two things. First, a lot of people showed up to try out, and they were all clustered at the balcony peering down to the table. Two, I was one of two white people. There was a brown guy, a black guy, and everyone else was Asian. This is the kind of situation that a childhood in central Missouri and southeast Denver does not prepare you for. As I stood on the balcony overlooking the table with all the other hopefuls, I couldn't hear a single English word. Everything around me was, to my best guess, Chinese. If you've never heard actual Chinese, for person raised solely on English it sounds vaguely similar to absolutely nothing remotely comprehensible.
Within the first five minutes of watching gameplay, I realized that Greece was going to find stable economic recovery 40 years before I ever have a chance at making the team. I watched people better than me fire off rallies with each other, only to be sent home. I only hoped that the novelty of my whiteness might make them keep me around for a little longer than I deserve.

My Caucasian counterpart, though not overweight and fairly tall, looked like he had all the athleticism of a three-legged daschund. I wondered if he had some secret crazy skill hidden beneath that exterior. But alas. When it was his turn, I watched as he struggled to return a single shot while he warmed up with the other 3 people in his group. Keep in mind, this is the warm up. Where you lightly hit the ball back and forth to get comfortable with your stroke and find your groove. And the poor guy couldn't even get spin. As the director took him aside after 2 minutes of warm up and told him to go home, I wondered where I could get some of whatever drug made him delusional enough to think he had a chance there.

My guess is the elusive herojuanacocaine mushrooms

So I finally get my turn to play, and as we warm up I'm delighted to find that I'm holding my own. I feel like everyone's already written me off after the guy before me struck out earlier, so I'm inspired to break stereotypes. They choose me and this other guy to play a quick game. I won't bore you with the details, but it was a titanic struggle in which at first I controlled play and took an early lead, but I started tightening up on my forehand and let him back into the match, eventually resulting in us playing past 11 until he finally got the better of me, winning 14-12.

It's ok Roger, I know how it feels

In the end though, our match meant nothing, because immediately afterward the director called us over and said "Basically guys, thanks for coming." So I put on my cowboy hat and walked off into the sunset, paddle in hand, forever changed for the better by the experience. I like to think they all were too.

It doesn't just feel good to change the world; it feels right

But I'm not finished. This October, Magnum Force, the intramural team that, as Tom Brokaw put it, "changed the game" and took the U of T table tennis scene by storm, returns this October. We hope, no, PLAN to avenge last year's 15th place finish with no holds barred, ping pong fury that will give every opponent a hard, measured kick to the hollow celluloid balls. Greece doesn't stand a chance.

HomeFunishingDisneyLand!

News has spread throughout the little town of Denver in which I live with my parents... that an Ikea store will be opening in my little state of Colorado. I've said little because leading scientists have been arguing that the store just would not fit in 104,098 sq feet. Despite these warnings, Ikea still opened up by Park Meadows, or 20 minutes by

car from my house. Now I'll be honest. I'd never head of this "Ikea" business. But I figured with so much hype, it had to be something to behold. So I will attend the store this week. I'm concerned, however, because I've heard reports of 45,000 people in attendance. 45,000? That's almost as many people as there are people in France (of course only when counting the French by the 3/5 Compromise of 1787).

Anyways, if I'm going to take on the exodus to Ikea, I'm going prepared. Yep, that's right. Full camping gear. I have included extra water, a sleeping bag, a tent, and of course bear repellent (you can never be too careful). I know what you're thinking right now... You're thinking something like, Nick you are sooooo stu....pendous! Yes... you're admiring my genius, I know its hard to resist. Well, now I'm prepared fully and just need a buddy (buddy system saves lives) and I'll be off with more to report after the adventure.

Well it's done. I've been to Ikea. First thing I noticed was that I felt like I was going to the airport. We had traffic directors and had to park a quarter of a mile away from anything useful. But when I finally entered I saw what everyone was so excited about. It was actually pretty cool. It was like every singe house I would never be able to afford were all for sale in one place!

My biggest complaint comes from how easy it is to get lost and/or lose your buddies... Which happened quickly in my case. but its ok because they have these handy maps that let you know exactly where you are in the building. They're very easy to read. The Blue is the infinite soul-sucking darkness more IKEA and the orange dot is where you are right now.

WHAT?! Where am I?! Scratch that. The maps don't help at all if you aren't a professional cartographer! It was official, I was lost. I had no idea where I was and I'll admit it. I was scared. So I ran to the nearest employee and told her my woes.

"Excuse me, I need some help!"

"Okay, what are you purchasing?"

"Purchasing? Nothing, I just want---"

"Oh I'm sorry, with the large number of people visiting, I can only help paying customers, not someone who's just loitering about..."
"Loitering... progressively... Okay fine! Whats the cheapest thing you sell?"
"That ottoman."

"Wait... the cheapest thing you sell is $1700? Fine... I'll take it. Just show me the way."

I knew my plan was foolproof. She wound her way through the endless secret passage ways that when I looked at the floor I realized weren't all that secret at all, you just followed the arrows, something most people had trouble with.

Finally she led me around a bend that led to a warehouse all of the sudden.

With enormous false advertising... Not actual size?! 50 cents? You're outta line...

We reached the check out counters and she turned to look at me. I was looking beyond her to the exit... Her eyes narrowed, BUT TOO LATE! I had already propelled the overpriced footstool toward her face and made a dash for the exit! Freedom at last! I thought to myself... "Hey... That was pretty fun... Next time I should by a hotdog..."

Now to be fair. IKEA was actually pretty well priced. I was overall impressed with how cheap it was. Also, I didn't really get lost... Well... yes I did. But not for all that long. And I was only separated from my buddies for a few minutes, because they were hiding from me. Fortunately, Kelsey's laugh carries very well and they were easy to find. I would like to Thank Robyn for taking all the pictures and keeping me safe.

Well til next time. See ya!