Athens 2004. It's all about sport. And watching muscled men get sweaty.

Friday, August 20

Pong Ping

I am trying to have an open mind about Table Tennis. I am trying not to lump it in the Bullshit Olympic Sports category alongside synchro swimming and football. But after watching it for half an hour yesterday my enthusiasm was as fake as a bored housewife's orgasm.

So how do we improve the image of Table Tennis? It actually is an immensely popular sport in terms of participants, but the general public have never really fallen in love with it. I see this marketing strategy going one of two ways:

OPTION ONE: Take it seriously.
When Denmark defeated the Swedes in a doubles match yesterday, one winning Dane did a euphoric leap into the stands, a la Pat Cash Wimbledon 1987. The other guy triumphantly hurled ping pong balls into the cheering crowd. Why not take this further, and treat the game with the seriousness of its tableless cousin? Sure, it already looks ridiculous with four people crowded around a small rectangle of wood, but I think there's room for some ball boys crouched beside the net, an umpire looming over from a very tall chair, and a bigass electronic scoreboard to tell us how fast they're serving.

OPTION TWO: Take it back to the basement.
The charm of ping pong lies in its basement/living room/garage suburban origins. If we can tap into this we can capture the imagination of the public. It's a simple matter of a few decor changes in the Olympic arena. A well-stocked bar fridge, a crumbling darts board, some randomly scattered beanbag chairs, a poster of a bikini chick on a motorcycle, plenty of potted plants for balls to get lost in, plenty of cats or small yapping dogs to tread on while searching for said balls. Male contestants must be bare chested and wear small shorts, sip beers between serves, and occasionally spank their partner's arse with the paddle.