The K-Staff would make a grand entrance. The lifeguards lead the way wearing bikini’s and holding signs. An announcer on the microphone calls out our nicknames and fans all around are throwing high fives and going nuts. This was my first ping pong tournament and I was pumped up.
Looking back at my last three Summers spent in Yosemite, I could not have done anything better. From climbing in and around Yosemite valley, to cooking Shabbat dinner for over 500 people, I did some things.
Along the way I got into trouble, learned how to cook, and played a lot of ping pong.
Since before I can remember ping pong has had an important place in my life. Before I ever played with my little brother I played with my uncle Robbie, and my grandpa Joe.
When I first got to Camp Tawonga, my boss, Kel took us on break and showed me the tables. He had a wicked curve, played with mad spin, and slammed it on a dime. He womped me three times straight.
Camp Tawonga has an annual Ping Pong tournament in the heat of the Summer. It’s a time to put on your most stylin suit, but with shorts underneath, ready to be busted when it starts getting steamy. Kel told us all #1: that the Kitchen staff were the coolest dudes around. #2: That we would be the flyest at the tournament.
The kitchen would put out hotdogs, chili, and cokes, and surround the 5 ping pong tables with bleachers, so that everyone could watch the games unfold.
Now I never won the ping pong tournament and would hesitate to say I even got close. There was serious competition every year, and some say my style doesn’t match up for tournament play. The sad part for me is skipping out on it this next summer.
It won’t be easy, but my brother will be taking my place on the roster and I feel good about it.