... of losing. I'm tired of Penn State losing. I'm tired of the Bills losing. But, mostly, I'm tired of losing to Jay in Ping Pong.
I can't remember the last time I beat Jay in Ping Pong. Perhaps there was one time in the past twelve months where I came out a winner. But, I'm not sure. We've probably played 150 games this calendar year alone. He's beaten me every time. It's usually not even close.
I just played him five times -- twice before dinner and three times after. The closest I got was 16-21. By game four, I was calling out to God (literally). "Where are you, God? Why aren't you helping me?" I shouted. "Are you even paying attention? You were there for the Eagles and RGIII earlier today. Where are you now?" It did no good. I got no answer. All my shouting did was reinforce to Jay that I'm unstable.
By our last game, I could tell Jay was taking it easy on me. That just made me angry. Of course, that didn't help my concentration. I hit a ball long. Then I missed the table with a forehand. My next return hit the top of the tape and fell back to my side. Before I knew what was happening, I was down 12-20. Then I won two points in a row. Perhaps this was going to be it -- my amazing comeback victory. No such luck. I hit another shot into the net and that was it.
"Well," I told myself, "at least I'm losing to the Corolla Light champion." Somehow, that didn't make me feel too much better.
