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          The one and only dominators
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      The sun lazily drifted through the window, illuminating delicate puffs of 
      dust as the focused combatants swirled around the table. Quickly, they 
      darted from side to side in the pale light, never allowing their opponents 
      to achieve what they so hope for, and opening in their defense. Finally, 
      through pure skill and a little luck, a weakness appeared and instantly 
      through it, flew a little orange Ping-Pong ball, glowing brightly as it 
      passed into the sun’s rays.
Yes, this is China, and I am watching the national sport, Ping-Pong, or 
      table tennis. No, it is not on TV, though it is televised, and no, I’m not 
      in a park, though every park has occupied tables all day long, I am at 
      work, and its the midday championships. Every day, starting at 11:30, we 
      have a two and a half hour lunch. Nominally, this is so those who come 
      into work at the painfully early hour of 8:30 am (definitely not me) can 
      take a nap, but its actually used by the Chinese staff to improve their 
      Ping-Pong skills. 
Up here, in an old meeting room on the top floor of our work building, 
      is the scene of the most brutal action. After the staff works its way 
      upstairs, playing in the minor leagues on each floor of each building in 
      this compound, they attempt to hold their own against the ruling Ping-Pongers. 
      The action is quick, with that little orange ball getting one hell of a 
      beating as two person teams compete against each other amid foot stomping, 
      laughter, and howls of anguish. 
I personally like my boss’s style. As he serves, he will stomp his foot 
      and yelp to try and psychologically distract his opponent. I would think 
      his eyesight, requiring glasses, would slow him down, but I underestimate 
      his skills. As far as I can tell, and I’m no expert, he is one of the best 
      here. On this day, he doesn’t have the best teammate and he is playing two 
      good opponents, but he still holds his own. 
Watching this game, I realize why it is so popular here. Like 
      badminton, the other odd game Chinese are fanatical about, Ping-Pong 
      allows for aggression and brute force, but only when properly contained 
      and controlled. I imagine that with one billion people packed close 
      together, there really isn’t much room in China for raw power sports like 
      rugby and car racing. Every aspect of life here has to be aligned to keep 
      the entire country from flipping out. 
Me, I’m OK at Ping-Pong, but I will never be good, for those very 
      reasons. I, as an American, am used to raw power sports, not that I 
      understand rugby or car racing, but I have a problem keeping from 
      launching that little orange ball into the stratosphere.  |