Team Saucony isn’t your typical sports team. It’s a league of true Originals. It’s a place to come together and play the sort of sports that don’t require cleats, pads or helmets. It’s less about the goals you score, and more about the hang.
frogs first loss came by way of flags
The team juxtaposed with team spirit
dave came to cheer us on despite the terrorist attack on his toe by the cowardly absent serf club (Revolver)
more team spirit
this one got knocked in the DOME
we lost. end.
= VICTORY!
When brilliant non-profit minds combine, no flag is safe. Our combined teams made quick work of Frog Design last Wednesday, capturing their flag TWICE in 30 minutes. It was our first win, and it was sweet.
Winners
Pre-game powwow
Victory dranks
Victorious drunks
The men of KQED and Hyphen
Clad in dangerously short shorts and sexily customized Saucony Originals T-shirts, my little helper and I walked through the doors of 111 Minna with one mission: To bring the joys of PONG to the people of San Francisco! And bring it we did.
Although the event itself started off with only a slow trickle of block party-goers, it took no time at all for those first few people to gravitate toward our dimly lit tennis table and take a few pong hits.
Ping Pong enthusiasts of all walks and aptitudes partook, making the games, by turns, airy and fierce, blithe and competitive. As things heated up and more people crowded around the competitors in gawking awe, it became clear that the main attraction of the evening–second, of course, to the free drinks–was our table.
A couple hours into the event, the sun, in a show of grace, decided to peep its head out from behind the San Francisco summer fog and, fueled now by warmth and sunlight, the party people began reaching in droves for the Saucony Originals squirt guns, and it wasn’t long before the entire block was a cross-fire barrage of well aimed streams of water, making the mere act of walking outside an invitation to get soaked. And we’re talking everyone– from little kids to the well-built security guys to the smartly coiffed band members– was partaking in the fun.
But back to the PONG: The promise of victory (and free shoes) kept even the most disheartened losers coming back for another round, and with DJ Franki Chan providing the joyously dance-able background music, our waiting list grew from a small handful of names to an entire dry-erase board tightly packed with dozens and dozens of eager players, all of whom, even as we were literally running out of space to sign-up, wanted their chance at PONG GLORY.
The competitors themselves became a show in their own right: there were lots of fist pumps, lots of delightful squealing, lots of guffawing and shit-talking and mom insults and gasps and triumphant yelping. Even Irene from the Real World Seattle decided to make an appearance, actually winning two games and signing up for a pair of free kicks! As the night neared its end, the hours of free drinks began catching up with everyone, and the games became much less a competition and more a structured way to ensure that one’s motor skills were still sharp enough for the trek home.
Lots’o'pics below:
… that it would take Revolver the longest to post recaps. What do you expect with a team called THE SLOTH?
But given our name, our team’s general sloppy appearance, and how often our players have had to drop a beer and/or cigarette in order to catch the ball, I’d say we’ve been pretty impressive. Shit, we even impressed ourselves, and that’s a tall order coming from a squad of grumpy cynics.
Let’s go two & a half weeks back…. Though the KQED team looked pretty together, and they certainly appeared more athletic, but let’s just say we killed them. I pretty much lost count, so I can’t remember how bad we killed them exactly, but I don’t think there’s much argument there. The only thing we were disappointed about was getting to the bar well after the other game was done - we definitely got the short straw in the the liquor game. I can’t reallyremember a whole lot about the game but Andrew ‘Murph’ Murphy really shone brightly, both behind the bat and on the field. Perhaps it was his muscle shirt that so thoroughly distracted the KQED squad?
Catching up here… last week we played Frog Design. At game time, there was only one member of the opposing team, which gave us some time to poorly stencil the word ‘Sloth’ (in classic Crass-alike stencil font) on a handful of our shirts. Given that we waited til the rest of their team showed up, we had quite a bit more time to drink, and I’m going to chalk our (squeaker) loss up to this key factor. Generally our sloppy attire and drunken, curmudgeonly demeanor is our best asset, but this time it just didn’t pay off. I should note that Randy stepped on one guy’s foot on the other team. Maybe the Frog guy had a bit too much to drink as well, because he didn’t notice until hours later that his sock was completely saturated with blood. Ew.
