|
|
|
Table
Tennis Limerick
Contest
By
Larry Hodges
In the last issue, we asked you to send in your best table tennis limericks. Never did we expect the outpouring we received! When the deadline finally arrived, we had received 147 limericks from 40 people!
I decided there had to be two categories – one-stanza and multi-stanza limericks. I had the difficult but hilarious (at the same time) job of narrowing the two categories down to finalists for the USATT Editorial Board to choose the Grand Champions. (During the selection process, author names were left off, so nobody knew who wrote what.) I sent all 147 to the Editorial Board for suggestions, and received enough feedback to make the job somewhat easier. I finally got them down to 17 single-stanza and two multi-stanza ones for the Editorial Board to vote on. (And, perhaps not surprisingly, several authors had repeat finalists.) When the voting was tabulated, there was pretty much agreement. And so our two Champions – Berndt Mann and D. Elliot – have their choice of one year’s free membership (or extension) with USATT, or a U.S. Open or Nationals shirt. But let’s face it, they didn’t write these for the prizes – they wrote these for the challenge, and meet the challenge they did!
After serves can no longer be hidden,
Will serve hiders still try what’s forbidden?
Will the players be cool,
With the new service rule?
Just who do we think that we’re kiddin’?
There once were two pushers classed A,
Who would push without missing all day,
They played for a while,
In their usual style,
And finished the following May.
There is a cool Fan from Seattle,
‘twas told by Seemiller, “Skeedaddle!”
Ran into some trouble,
Due to one little bubble,
“Hmm, where is that duplicate paddle?”
John Blois
The change in the ball size was fine,
But a win at 11-to-9?
An old guy like me,
Can’t change easily,
Let’s see, is it your serve or mine?
John Dichiaro
A Table Tennis player named Skinner,
Was known as a ferocious spinner,
When he hit it just right,
His ball would circle in flight,
And come down some time after dinner.
D. Elliot
The rules of our game have been changed–
Bigger balls, and the serves rearranged,
Play the game to eleven,
Four games out of seven?
Those rulemakers must be deranged!
D. Elliot
I glue up my paddle each day,
In a very precise, exact way,
As I watch the sponge dry,
I sniff glue ‘til I’m high,
And I often forget to go play.
Craig Krum
Did the ball being served touch the net?
The player receiving cried ‘Let!’
The call was contested,
And loudly protested,
Is Ping Pong so serious? You Bet!
Paul L. Lawrence
Table tennis is a lot of fun,
Especially if your game is won,
But you are likely to cry,
Or give a loud sigh,
When you lose eleven to none.
Paul L. Lawrence
We have been friends for many years,
Together we’ve shared sorrows and cheers,
But we’re opponents today,
I hope your luck goes away,
And you leave with a bucket of tears.
Phil Sorensen
Whether thirty-eight, forty or more,
I’m a ball, without which there’s no score,
There’s no racket I envy,
Nor a net that offends me,
So my bounce you will surely adore.
John Vos
When Han Xiao was only age eight,
I whupped him 11 games straight,
But as soon as he grew,
To a height of 4 – 2,
He jumped up and slammed shut the gate.
Russ Walker
There once was a player named Dwight,
Who could hit the ball faster than light,
He smashed it one day,
In a relative way,
It landed the previous night.
Si Wasserman
I think that I shall never see,
A bat that fits me to a T,
I’ve spent money aplenty,
And tried more than twenty,
Perhaps it’s not the bat but me.
Alan Williams
A spunky young lass who had verve,
Was frustrated by the new rule on serve
She eventually quit,
For no matter where hit,
Her contact was obscured by a curve.
Alan Williams
I know a slow blocker from Texas,
Whose control game has been known to vex us,
It’s notable yet,
That each edge and net,
Falls his way and in the end wrecks us.
A fellow named Fan got in trouble,
When his paddle developed a bubble,
And he said “I’ve no spare;
I’ll just go over there,
And reglue my old sheet on the double!”
Well, the umpire said it was cool,
But coach Seemiller said, “You’re a fool!
For it’s written right there, ya,
Can’t leave the play area,
And that is a hard and fast rule!”
Then the umpire said, “That is true,
But this is a courtesy glue...
Well, I’m changing my mind,
And he’ll just have to find,
A spare bat, or his playing is through.”
The whole match has been long at a halt,
So then Fan reaches into his vault,
(well, his bag, that’s to say),
Grabs a bat: “So let’s play!”
And the umpire yells: “You default!”
As it turns out, a teammate had tried,
To loan Fan a bat, but he’d sighed,
Saying “it’s not the same,
It’ll throw off my game.”
But the umpire thought Fan had lied.
And the moral of this sorry day?
Any time that you go out to play,
Always have a spare racket,
Tucked into your jacket,
To
keep angry umpires at bay.
I endeavored to learn how to loop,
I became the best one in my group,
When from out of the crop,
Came a guy who could chop,
And into the net my shots droop.
“Be patient, you silly young man!”
Said coach number one Yiyong Fan,
“With pushes and hits,
And guile and wits,
They won’t want to play you again!”
I tried to take his sound advice,
But the road wasn’t easy or nice,
My efforts were met,
With edges and nets,
I’d have better luck rolling dice!
I thought that I’d try antispin,
To see if it would help me win,
I found that my hits,
Gave other guys fits,
Yet somehow it felt like a sin.
Perhaps I should try some new grips,
Or speed glue or no-sponge or pips,
It occurred to me then,
That its all among friends,
So who cares how low my rating dips?
(In alphabetical order, including finalists above. Multiple stanza limericks are in green. )
Aaron
Avery
Because of incredible spin,
Our players are often quite thin.
It’s hard to get fat,
Running this way and that,
After balls being hit by Ma Lin!
He asked nicely, “Was that in or out?”
In table tennis, there’s no need to shout,
John McEnroe,
Would have trouble, you know,
‘Cause in our sport he carries no clout!
There once was a leader of pong,
Who said, “Games are 11 points long.”
The players retort,
“Those games are too short!”
And 5 out of 9 just seems wrong.
The spin that the players impart,
Requires their opponents be smart,
For the physics involved,
Aren’t easily solved,
And
winning takes both brains and heart.
Ambrose
“Amanda” Bierce
The major TT companies,
Have our sport, shall we say, by the knees,
With their speed glues and rubbers,
For experts and dubbers,
Is this fair? Do they care? Oh, puhleeze!
Eleven-point game, new serve rule, bigger ball–
Will this change world class play much at all?
And if you’re a defender,
Whatever your gender,
Can you be a contender? Think small.
Let’s hear it for Pong Prez Sharara,
And the nations who voted us this horror,
Just between you and me,
Will pong be on TV?–
Perhaps by the twelfth of tomorrow.
Though collective our memories be short,
Pong once was a spectator sport,
Civilians would pay,
To see Dick, Marty play,
Now they’d rather watch gerbils abort.
John Blois
She’s
the easiest player I’d met,
I should’ve suggested a bet,
It’s not so immense,
Her pips-out defense,
But my shots all went in the net.
The change in the ball size was fine,
But a win at 11-to-9?
An old guy like me,
Can’t change easily,
Let’s see, is it your serve or mine?
Robert
Brinton
We were twenty-one and they were eleven,
We laughed and played, we were in heaven,
Then, they said you must be eleven too!
We see your fun, but this you must do!
Twenty-one is the old way, and out of style,
Eleven is the new way to be here, awhile!
Practice eleven, hit the big, big ball,
Play eleven, who cares that it is no fun at all!
We
changed the ball and the score,
Still are TV ratings seem to be a bore,
It is time to really get drastic,
And get into something elastic,
It’s time to get out those bikini’s, girls!!
Michael Charney
To me Chinese sounds kind of sing-song,
Of course they may think me a ding-dong,
That they might be right,
Gives me a fright,
But it sure is the language for Ping-Pong.
Ping-Pong’s a sport for your life,
Your husband, your child, or wife,
You pick up a paddle,
Stop all that prattle,
And get rid of your stress and your strife.
There is a young lady who plays it,
Ping-Pong that is, it’s her favorite,
Games to be played,
Shots to be made,
Guys to be vanquished who hate it.
There was a big looper from Astor,
Who spun the ball harder and faster,
He must make amends,
To all of his friends,
Or suffer a social disaster.
Michael can serve to the best,
Then, they put him to the test,
Flipping it here,
Looping it there,
Players, you know all the rest.
Spinning the ball is a pleasure,
When you play Ping-Pong for leisure,
Hitting it flat,
Runs counter to that,
Getting it back takes your measure.
Kent Davault
The
master of ping and of pong,
Played anti and pips that were long,
His opponents with dread,
And faces of red,
Hit all shots too short or too long.
Big balls, shorter games and the service,
Unconcealed like we want and deserve is,
Still making no change,
In my poor rating range,
But the changes made everyone nervous.
The strength of the U.S.A. team,
Heterodoxical creme de la crème,
Wins come with more ease,
Many names are Chinese,
But that’s the American dream.
Chop, loop, lob, block & counter-hit,
Played serve, smash & dink for a bit,
After deuce for an hour,
Had drained all of their power,
A net-edge finally forced them to quit.
John
Dichiaro
There
was a young philosopher named Mikey,
Who played Table Tennis in his Nike’s,
His footwork was quick,
And his hit was so slick,
That he would damage his opponent’s Psyches.
A Table Tennis player named Skinner,
Was known as a ferocious spinner,
When he hit it just right,
His ball would circle in flight,
And come down some time after dinner.
A racquet-flipping player named Little,
Paddled with a Teflon-coated fiddle,
Though the heaviest spin,
Would never sink in,
It was much too heavy to twiddle.
An all-around player named Topper,
To some he was known as a chopper,
Though his slice was quite nice,
He smashed with his Bryce,
And often was called the Big-Bopper.
Russell E. DuBois
Since
he was a maniac looper,
I
chopped like a veteran trooper,
I
returned every ball,
Drove
him back to the wall,
And
found my reward was just super.
When
facing inordinate spin,
And
trying one’s hardest to win,
Unleash
your best chop,
As
you watch the ball drop,
And
then do it over again.
When
you’re placing shots right on the line,
And
everything’s going just fine,
Don’t
lessen the pressures,
With
unwarranted gestures,
Or
they’ll take you eleven to nine.
D. Elliot
The rules of our game have been changed–
Bigger balls, and the serves rearranged,
Play the game to eleven,
Four games out of seven?
Those rulemakers must be deranged!
J.O. Waldner is my favorite player,
The other folks just don’t compare,
To the Maestro Jan-Ove,
I tell you, by Jovey,
And if you disagree, I don’t care!
I glue up my paddle each day,
In a very precise, exact way,
As I watch the sponge dry,
I sniff glue ‘til I’m high,
And I often forget to go play.
I am making a big ping-pong bet:
Marty Reisman to break cigarette,
On his first forehand swat,
It’s his best money shot,
and he’s never missed one of them yet!
Danny Seemiller has a strange grip,
‘twixt the thumb and index-finger tip,
Is where his paddle sits,
And it gives people fits,
when his anti appears with a flip!
The hardbatter said “why aspire,
Dear foe, to use glue, when its dire,
Consequences are plain?
Using glue rots your brain!”
“I’m not playing you, I’m your umpire!”
A fellow named Fan got in trouble,
When his paddle developed a bubble,
And he said “I’ve no spare;
I’ll just go over there,
And reglue my old sheet on the double!”
Well, the umpire said it was cool,
But coach Seemiller said, “You’re a fool!
For it’s written right there, ya,
Can’t leave the play area,
And that is a hard and fast rule!”
Then the umpire said, “That is true,
But this is a courtesy glue...
Well, I’m changing my mind,
And he’ll just have to find,
A spare bat, or his playing is through.”
The whole match has been long at a halt,
So then Fan reaches into his vault,
(well, his bag, that’s to say),
Grabs a bat: “So let’s play!”
And the umpire yells: “You default!”
As it turns out, a teammate had tried,
To loan Fan a bat, but he’d sighed,
Saying “it’s not the same,
It’ll throw off my game.”
But the umpire thought Fan had lied.
And the moral of this sorry day?
Any time that you go out to play,
Always have a spare racket,
Tucked into your jacket,
To keep angry umpires at bay.
Andrew Goodling
There once was an editor named Hodges,
Against whom few complaints could be lodge(s),
When asked who would win,
He would say with a grin,
It depends which sticks the least in my craw(dges).
There was an old penholder named Berndt,
Who had learned all he thought could be learnt,
But when he copied Ma Lin,
with his reverse penhold spin,
His opponents were the one’s who got burnt.
There once was a penholder named Andy,
His opponents, they ate him like candy,
But then he met Carl,
Ohio coach with a snarl,
And his game, now it is just jim dandy.
Nicholas
Gangi
Ping pong is a sport,
A clever one you sought,
Enjoy the game, and if not,
Only because you said cannot.
One winner and one loser,
Take your turn as one or other,
Humble, if you’ll be the winner,
If the loser, not the weeper.
*****
Ping pong as some call it,
Table tennis is the game,
Past “twenty-one” you won by wit,
And now “eleven” is the game,
It may be half as short,
And some have the advantage,
But it’s worth the time you bought,
If you stop, look and engage.
Who said ping pong is easy to play,
It must be the ones who have never played,
Is fun and exciting as we all say,
But not to the “point” that we have it made.
We all know that somehow practice makes perfect,
To get there it certainly will help,
And you have to admit and also expect,
When it’s over you’ll smile or you’ll gulp!
John Grinnell
As our Editor often alleges,
His last name is Hodges, not Hedges.
Helped by four or five “Lets,”
He frequently gets,
Up to deuce using net balls and edges.
Arnold Fetbrod, in search of a lock,
Once surfaced a blade with crushed rock,
No one played in New York,
With sandpaper or cork,
They used Leyland, MacCrossen or Hock.
A sponger replied to the shock,
Of defeat by a Leyland-faced Hock,
He devised new equipment,
And he soon had his shipment...
Bats made from cement and crushed rock.
Berndt, who once was a classic HardBatter,
Tested penhold to hit the ball flatter,
But his backhand attack,
Has been taken aback,
By “reverse,” that’s the crux of the matter.
Alfred
Hawkins
My two boys and I do play ping-pong,
Which is a game that deserves a song,
We work up a sweat, too,
Then learn more than we knew,
And we enjoy the game all year long.
Table Tennis can be a fun game,
Which evolves with rhythm and no shame,
Either gender can win,
With hot sweat from within,
And a trophy engraved with one’s own name.
Steve
Hochman
Once upon a day,
I could loop the ball and say,
That ball ain’t coming back,
It’s 38 millimeters, oh Lordy,
But then, uh oh, someone switched it for a forty.
The National Team semis were looking good,
Barney Reed and Fan were playing as they should,
But Barney yelled out, “We’ll beat you on the double,”
Let me look at Fan’s paddle,
I think I see a bubble.
The National Team semis were looking good,
The players were playing as they should,
Spin and speed were fast and furious,
Suddenly, one yelled out, “I’m sure to win indeed,”
I see a bubble and my name is Barney Reed.
Thomas Huff
There once was guy from Piscataway,
Who cried to the Ump “Is that a way,
To treat an old man,
Who went to the can,
And managed to flush his hardbat away”?
Melvin Jacobs
A table tennis player named Kirk,
Went nearly berserk,
Playing “virtual” ping pong,
When everything went wrong,
Because of his poor net work.
A convict called Dennis,
Played doubles at table tennis,
His return was fine,
His smash down the line,
But he couldn’t make a legal serve.
A heavy ponger named Paul,
Changed to a ball not as small,
Asked if he got thin,
He replied with a grin,
“T’is just the much bigger ball!”
A knight-errant yclept Lancelot,
Whose ping pong really was hot,
Though played on a round table,
He nonetheless was able,
And YeGads got around a lot!
A prudish ping-ponger named Fay,
Thought singles OK but doubles ix-nay,
Since once she had heard,
Admittedly absurd,
Mixed doubles was called four-play.
A plump woman named Mable,
Whose penchant for ping-pong was fable,
Played so hard to win,
And to keep herself slim,
But she couldn’t stay away from the table.
Andrew Knips
There once was a man from Nittaku,
Of ping-pong balls he bought quite a few,
One day he found,
To his great astound,
All were Stiga’s but two!
There once was a man from Nantucket,
Who played ping-pong with Kirby Pucket,
When the match was done,
And Pucket had won,
Forrest Gump nearly kicked the bucket!
Craig
Krum
The change nearly brought down the walls,
from shouting that echoed the halls,
But the new rule, I said,
Should be welcomed instead,
Because who wouldn’t want bigger balls?
Some say using anti’s perverse,
Still others think long pips are worse,
Well I played a skunk,
Using both kinds of junk,
It’s enough to make any saint curse!
The score in the final was deuce,
Still the champ didn’t think he could lose,
When an edge and a net,
His opponent did get,
He yelled words even sailors won’t use.
Did the ball being served touch the net?
The player receiving cried ‘Let!’
The call was contested,
And loudly protested,
Is Ping Pong so serious? You Bet!
Paul
L. Lawrence
Table tennis is a lot of fun,
Especially if your game is won,
But you are likely to cry,
Or give a loud sigh,
When you lose eleven to none.
Get out your favorite paddle,
And prepare for a vicious battle,
You have expected a test,
Now give it your best,
Maybe victory will ride on your saddle.
We have been friends for many years,
Together we’ve shared sorrows and cheers,
But we’re opponents today,
I hope your luck goes away,
And you leave with a bucket of tears.
My old paddle was getting slick,
Spinning the ball was quite a trick,
The new rubber is great,
But I have a debate–
Should the glue be a half-inch thick?
Tong Lee
Larry Hodges the editor is the best,
This is serious, I do not jest,
Still, I heard that once he was fired,
But later he got rehired,
And now the magazine is the greatest, I hereby attest.
Berndt Mann
After serves can no longer be hidden,
Will serve hiders still try what’s forbidden?
Will the players be cool,
With the new service rule?
Just who do we think that we’re kiddin’?
The six-foot-four Sledgehammer Sido,
Hit a flat hit near Marty’s for speed-o,
He was built like a horse,
As a matter of course,
And of course had a Clydesdale’s libido.
When Reisman and Cartland and Miles,
Got together to check out their styles,
Cartland’s strokes were dismissed,
Since he didn’t use wrist,
Doug was pissed – Dick and Marty all smiles.
Classic purists consider a sin,
The reverse penhold I stole from Ma Lin,
Every time I reverse,
The Style Police curse,
And it’s driven John the Elder to gin.
There was a junk jockey named Dave,
Who would store dead Feint Long in a cave,
Dave’s detritus played strange;
Dave was two grand and change,
Not to mention the money he’d save.
There was a glue god from Nantucket,
Who’d go through Master Chack by the bucket,
His glue jobs was such,
Not enough was too much,
So that after one match he’d upchuck it.
First Nisbet, then Johnson, now Essick--
This really has become quite a mess, quick!
Can USATT,
EVER keep an E.D.?
Your guess is as good as my guess, slick.
I’m a has-been, though I can’t conceive it:
A chopper – man, could I retrieve it!
With my hard Hock, I vow,
Chopped ‘em all down somehow,
But I can’t now, so you may not believe it.
Now I’m awkward as a novice – a clown.
Gloopers take my soft high floats downtown,
And my mates they all chide,
In tones sad and snide,
Shape up, laddie! And keep them chops down!
I’ve chopped ‘gainst Gus Kurz in my day;
Johnny Lehman, and the great Danny Vegh,
Was put to the test,
By South Euclid’s best,
But for chopping none could smoke me: no way.
Well, no use to complain, or to keen,
For the sweet bygone hard rubber scene,
Now it’s long pips or anti–
Chiseling wobbly – can I? Can’t I?
And telling you what I have been.
*****
I’ve been a wild looper for years;
Spent me money on speed glue and beers,
But Fair Chack ain’t there, Jack,
My loop kills are Sad Sack,
And are met now with more jeers than cheers.
I’d fire up with Tip-Top so thick,
And my smoke was no joke, bloke – WAY quick!
But my V’s not alive now,
Gotta get by on jive now–
Lunchmeat to the junk jockey shtick.
Goin’ home to hard rubber so pure,
Speed glue’s a disease, that’s for sure,
Spongin’, grungin’ galore;
Our sport’s now a bore,
Full Marty’s the only sure cure.
Jim
Meredith
Spinning the court of spherical rhyme,
Marked by barriers parrying time,
The pairs weave in the air,
Designs both players share–
Lines revealing the Cosmic Sublime.
Dr. Kesh Prakash
The marvellous game of ping-pong,
Is nothing but one grand, sweet song,
If one starts playing this game,
Aggressive loops and killer chops-nothing tame,
Discover ping-pong and you will do nothing wrong!
You may be lucky to meet,
The top stars on their fleeting feet,
Samsonov, Waldner, good old Cheng or a young Robert Gardos,
Giving a scintillating display for the record as a sample dose,
You’re beaming because you have a house seat!
Michael
Reff
TT isn’t just a cool sport,
It’s more than the paddles and shorts,
It unites the whole world,
In one unique swirl,
Of techniques and styles galore.
If I could be paid just one quarter,
For each time I have hit the net border,
I would be very happy,
And not be so snappy,
About making the net a bit shorter.
I can’t seem to find clubs close by,
Which makes feel sad enough to cry,
I know many relate,
To my thoughts of being great,
But alas my strong hopes have run dry.
I watch the cool strokes and the tricks,
From the World games to the Olympics,
And I can’t seem to choose,
(But there’s nothing to lose),
The player I want to mimic!
Phil
Sorensen
I’m more than an average guy now,
And so, with a racket I try now,
To succeed without fail,
And not land on my tail,
But the course to success, I must buy now.
I just serve to put balls into play,
No return will find me in the way,
There’s no point I like more,
And I’ll beat you for sure–
With a net or an edge gone astray.
Whether thirty-eight, forty or more,
I’m a ball, without which there’s no score,
There’s no racket I envy,
Nor a net that offends me,
So my bounce you will surely adore.
I’m a player from long, long ago,
I think fast, but my body goes slow.
I am oh, so decrepit,
With spots like a leopard–
I just wish I could see where I go.
Greg Stanford
Pumping
iron generates strong swing,
Yet looping the ball yields just “ping,”
I won’t be a chump,
I’ll crush ‘em like Gump,
My opponents shall feel my sting!
Kirk Stimpert
I endeavored to learn how to loop,
I became the best one in my group,
When from out of the crop,
Came a guy who could chop,
And into the net my shots droop.
“Be patient, you silly young man!”
Said coach number one Yiyong Fan,
“With pushes and hits,
And guile and wits,
They won’t want to play you again!”
I tried to take his sound advice,
But the road wasn’t easy or nice,
My efforts were met,
With edges and nets,
I’d have better luck rolling dice!
I thought that I’d try antispin,
To see if it would help me win,
I found that my hits,
Gave other guys fits,
Yet somehow it felt like a sin.
Perhaps I should try some new grips,
Or speed glue or no-sponge or pips,
It occurred to me then,
That its all among friends,
So who cares how low my rating dips?
John Vos
When Han Xiao was only age eight,
I whupped him 11 games straight,
But as soon as he grew,
To a height of 4 – 2,
He jumped up and slammed shut the gate.
Russ Walker
There once were two pushers classed A,
Who would push without missing all day,
They played for a while,
In their usual style,
And finished the following May.
There once was a player named Dwight,
Who could hit the ball faster than light,
He smashed it one day,
In a relative way,
It landed the previous night.
There once was a player named Nash,
Who smashed with his partner named Tash,
Tash had a rash, unknownst to Nash,
And Nash got the rash then got smashed.
There once was a player named Jay,
Who had the best aim of his day,
They said he was able,
To hit a dime on the table,
From 50 paces away.
Mark Wallace
There is a cool Fan from Seattle,
‘twas told by Seemiller, “Skeedaddle!”
Ran into some trouble,
Due to one little bubble,
“Hmm, where is that duplicate paddle?”
There once was an E.D. named Ray,
(He’s a poolside legend, they say),
He came bright to our sport,
But now we’re sad to report,
There ONCE was an E.D. named Ray.
Herbert Ward
I once played ping-pong with Razvan.
He looped ferocious, forehand and backhand.
When we reached twenty-oh,
I said, “At least I know”
“I played him as well as I can.”
I can’t for the life of me see,
Why no one write limericks like me,
They all nicely rhyme,
And are really sublime,
Please give me the prize of the fee.
With a cover from Sear’s I’m able,
To play ping pong on my pool table,
And with another cool tool,
I play pong in the pool,
But Joy and Faith play up in the gable.
Si
Wasserman
My opponent is ungainly and fat,
I announce with panache, “I can beat that!”
But his size has no bearing,
He wins with skill and daring,
And now I’ve learned to speak only with my bat.
At the tourney I prayed for a good pairing,
But a first round loss left me glaring,
I thought I was ready,
But my game proved unsteady,
As a result my hair I was tearing.
I was sure that I could win an award,
If I used my racket like a sword,
I ripped and I slashed,
But my hopes were dashed,
‘Cause losses were my red-faced reward.
I think that I shall never see,
A bat that fits me to a T,
I’ve spent money aplenty,
And tried more than twenty,
Perhaps it’s not the bat but me.
My mind is geared to a game of one and twenty,
Now eleven is deemed to be plenty,
The new format makes me sore,
Let’s return to the old score,
Now I need someone to represent me.
I once knew a lady from Poughkeepsie,
Who routinely managed to get tipsy,
To settle her nerves,
She practiced TT serves,
And now she’s relaxed as a gypsy.
Marius
Wechsler
There’s no ping-pong shown on cable;
Sponsors fear that they can’t sell their label,
I’ll fix that, Adham swore!
Grow the ball, shrink the score,
When he’s done, will we still have a table?
Daniel, Noah & Ilana Weisz
So you want to learn about ping-pong?
Okay, it won’t take too long.
Just listen to me,
As I explain to thee,
And soon you’ll be playing like Kong (Linghui).
When serving, first the paddle hits the ball,
Then onto the table it does fall,
It goes over the net,
Bounces, and is met,
By your opponent – in returning it he does not stall.
But what if the ball rolls into the net?
There’s a special rule for that, you can bet.
To the hitter’s chagrin,
His opponent does win,
A point. That’s a rule you shouldn’t forget!
In ping-pong there exist spins galore,
Topspin, underspin, and there’s even more...
Loops and chops,
Smashes and blocks,
Ping-pong’s never a bore!
Alan Williams
A twiddler who lived in Manhattan,
Contrasted his tactics to Patton,
“If they attack,
My pips beat ‘em back,
And if they retreat I just slap ‘em!”
A spunky young lass who had verve,
Was frustrated by the new rule on serve
She eventually quit,
For no matter where hit,
Her contact was obscured by a curve.
I know a slow blocker from Texas,
Whose control game has been known to vex us,
It’s notable yet,
That each edge and net,
Falls his way and in the end wrecks us.
There was a great ponger from Guam,
Whose backhand was truly da Bomb,
When he felt rushed,
He counter-looped, crushed,
And in the aftermath all was dead calm.
There was a hot looper from China,
Whose Topspin could not be finer,
Because he was Young,
He remained quite unsung,
Till he won King of all Asia (Minor).
Tunwa Yee
There once was a Ponger named Larry,
Whose appearance was thought of as weary,
Each opponent was beat,
Standing flat on their feet,
If you play this old guy, it is scary.
There is a great game called Pong,
The game can be played all day long,
With a push and a loop,
And a block and a kill,
At times you can feel like King Kong.
Ping-pong is a way of life,
If you don’t believe me, ask my wife,
I go out to play,
And stay there all day,
At times it’s a matter of strife.
Ping-pong is a game of spin,
To understand spin is to win,
From back to top,
And side to side,
To ignore the physics is a sin.
Peter Young
My
opponent’s getting on my nerves,
Returning every single ball I serve,
My next shot flies like a jet,
Thus, he misses into the the net,
Surely, am I consumed with mirth.
Pickity, Packity, Pop,
The sport Ping Pong sure rocks!
As you step on the court,
And start playing the sport,
You find yourself unable to stop.
A long fought battle, I’m behind,
The thought of winning on my mind,
My swing ever so violent,
The crowd ever so silent,
A long-fought battle, the game is mine.
I tell myself it’s only a game,
But the thought of losing just drives me insane,
His victory at a cost,
Purchased my unbearable lost,
Battered, I trudge through the rain.
I slipped, and fell on my caboose
Luckily for an edge, it’s DEUCE!
Consumed with terror,
My opponent makes two errors,
Gleefully, I scream like a moose.
Ball pops up, arm swings back,
On top of bounce comes that WHACK,
Struck by rubber colored sable,
YEEHAW! The ball misses the table,
Thank God, she just cut me some slack.
USA Table Tennis - Serving the Table Tennis Community