I am not athletic. I think it has something to do with my awkward proportions (at least I am blaming it on this), I have monkey arms, so it goes without saying that girlfriend can’t get it together in the coordination department. Actually, random aside: my little sister is actually worse than me.  This is terrifying to both the pedestiran and driving communities. Dallas watch yourself.  Well, try as I may, sports are not my forte. I am however very good at being a sports fan. Pitchers and basketball are my jam. Rock Chalk, March Madness, I hate you Kentucky.

Anyway, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I am a pretty decent beer pong player. Don’t know why. Too bad I finally found my sport in college and missed the opportunity for underage abusive Russian-Gymnastics-team-style training, I could have been amazing!  Post-grad and living in NY, I find beer pong becomes a sport that is often neglected. As an undergrad, I would play 2 to 3 times a week at least. Now, with an apartment the size of a pong table and the lack of free Natty Light cases, I am fortunate if I get to play once a month. Sometimes I really miss the basements of Frats, where the cheap beer never ran dry, your gaggle of friends was always around singing 80′s classic rock mixed with Paper Planes and that Miley Cirus Party bullshit song, jello shots made cameos, and the frequent  privledge of comforting your least favorite sorority sister who would always end up drunk crying because her boyfriend was gay and everyone knew it.

If you are a fan of the incredibly unsanitary and amazingly awesome game, I know a few places in the city you can show off your skills. I may or may not have made a few personal rivals at some of these finer establishments. The Stumble Inn on the UES has a couple tables, the Fat Cat has a plethora, and if you want to get all fancy and just play legit Ping Pong, hit up The Standard Biergarten.

This is me Instagramming my equimpent at the Standard last week. Followed by an image of what I did most of the evening: chasing after the ball. Thank you to my coworker Patti for taking these without me knowing. Stealth. She also won, but I think it had a lot to do with the air conditioning flow that was working in her favor. Tricky. Disclaimer: Yes that is a mixed drink to my right, yes I know I am at a Beirgarten. I get it, I look like a little girl. BUT it was becasue my coworker and I did not feel like waiting in the ticket line for beer. The second drink was a big mug full of German Water, okay.

Moral of the Thirsty Thursday: Beer Pong is real. You should play it. And if you don’t have the room, the friends, or enough Swiffer WetJet pads to host your own tournament, I suggest you high tail it to the Standard and get your game on. May the pong odds be ever in your favor.