The Slammer
My son Gainer sent me a ping-pong video (you gotta see this) that got me thinking about my love of the game. My dad, brothers, sisters and I grew up playing ping-pong almost every night, down in the basement trying to steer clear of the washer and dryer.
I played so much that I ended up joining the Springfield Table Tennis Club, above Smith’s Billiards on Worthington Street. The club was run by a guy named Ralph Naylor. My father used to drop me off early Saturday mornings and then come grab me when it got dark. Some damn good players my age. Matt Aronson, Jimmy Joiner, Bobby Rutherford, the McDowell brothers.
I thought I was pretty good, so I entered the New England championships which were gonna be held at the Mountain Park ballroom in Holyoke. That made me the hometown favorite, baby. To play, I had to order the official United States Table Tennis shirt with “O’Brien” screened on the back. Snappy look.
So I put on my official shirt and I’m rarin’ to go. Mr. Big Time. Mr. Hot Shot. And, sure as shootin’, I draw the number-one seed and have to go up against New England champion Lester Moskowitz. God damn it, Jimmy Johnson!
Lester and I start volleying back and forth. I’m playin’ ok and he’s as serious as a nun I once had at Holyoke Catholic. I gotta admit I was nervous playing this ace. He took an early 5-1 lead and I decided it was time to get as cocky as Muhammad Ali and slam that white pea right past him on the next return.
Slam it I did. The paddle flew out of my hand and slammed Lester right in the noggin. Down goes the champ like a bag of cement. I went over to his side of the table hoping he was okay—and also hoping I’d win by forfeit. I was already planning to brag about knocking the bum out in the first round. But no way, Ray. Lester climbed to his feet with a bump on his head that made him look like Frankenstein. He picked up his paddle and walloped me 21-2. Goes to show you, don’t get too cocky in life.
With the Delta variant coming through, it’s almost like we’re back to where we were last September. Ping-pong is a real energizer in tough times. Head over to Dick’s, pick up a table and blow off some steam with the kids. Just be sure you show ‘em how to hold on to the goddamn paddle. Keep your dukes up.