Talk of pong inevitably leads to talk of basements and vice versa. So when it comes to pong-worthy basements, how do each of the houses stack -- and rack -- up?
Beyond the ever-referenced frat and sorority stereotypes that dominate our perceptions of houses, the pure geography of basements plays a major role in dictating the number of tables, the rules of play and inevitably the quality of pong, regardless of ability.
Starting out on Wheelock Street, the first things that come to mind about Alpha Delta's basement are the floor, smell and overall ambience. With five tables in the basement, pong on any given off-night is not likely to be impeded by structural factors. If it's a busy night, however, pong at any of the four central tables becomes a multi-variable undertaking. It is suddenly necessary to focus not only on the game at hand, but also on how to best maintain a suitable level of space for movement and dexterity without shoving any of the multitude of basement go-ers enough to cause a domino-effect of spilled beer.
Crowds aside, your only qualm with AD is likely to be the questionable floor coverings. There's arguably no truly germ-free basement, but AD's basement seems to leave darker -- and harder to scrub-off -- marks than any other institution. It might be the most perilous place to wear flip-flops, and observing the frequent urinations against the wall doesn't help said perception. But if sanitation's on your mind, just trust in the power of positive thinking -- as soon as the ball hits the beer, the alcohol is bound to have sterilizing effects.
Next door at Chi Heorot, the design of the basement is more conducive to both playing and observing the game of pong. With brighter lighting, bleacher-like benches surrounding the three central tables, and recently installed cement sloping underneath said benches -- to deter the loss of pong balls amidst the mass of cups cluttering the floor -- pong adopts a more sporting-event like feel. Even while housing five tables, the basement design allows for a significant crowd before pong becomes too space-consuming, though sudden table-flipping is not infrequent. Heorot has some of the highest ceilings of any of the houses, so aside from some players' propensity to serve and rebound against the wall at the aptly titled "JV table," the environment rarely plays a role in Heorot pong.
Across the Green at Psi Upsilon, the basement's three tables each contend with a multitude of geographical factors. The one table in the main basement area, aside from being the first to be dismantled when the basement overflows, has exceptionally low ceilings and a corresponding rule enabling your opponents a slam shot if you're unfortunate enough to hit the ceiling. This proves a daunting combination for those less adept at walking the fine line between low shots and environmental infractions.
Further into the basement, the Kaiser -- home to Psi U's other two basement tables -- has higher ceilings but a seemingly arbitrary mass of poles around which the tables are arranged. Regardless of which position you're playing in, the poles provide yet another challenging element around which to maneuver.
Venturing to frat row, Gamma Delta Chi has arguably one of the best pong basements, thanks to the presence of "the pit." As the setting of the 07X Masters Competition, the pit is purely a pong zone with ceilings so high that they would be an athletic feat to hit. The metal balcony up above serves as an elevated viewing gallery, allowing observers to keep an eye on the games without getting in the way.
Aside from the pit, the basement has a main area in which it is possible to play pong. More often, this area holds the crowds, kegs and bands that frequent GDX and separates the minglers from the pong players, keeping the two groups in close enough proximity as not to alienate either group.
With only two pong tables on (almost) any given night, the brothers of Phi Delta Alpha has recently experimented with the layout of their basement to make room for a third table in the bar room in lieu of, well, the bar. Said room, arguably the best dice -- or in Phi Delt's case, "Phi Die" -- locale of any basement, has since been reverted back to it's original bar-and-dice function, though not without unresolved intra-house controversy. Depending on which brothers venture first into the basement on any given night, the room adjacent to the back door might hold lines of flip cup-pers or simply lines to get on table.
Situated half-way down Frat Row, Bones Gate's basement is the equivalent to an open-concept office space -- with low-level dividers creating the illusion of structure without actually partitioning off any part of the basement. With four tables, only the first is likely to be dismantled to accommodate the crowd, and the fourth -- situated a few steps lower than the others -- seems located in a space specifically designed to accommodate uninterrupted pong without isolating the players.
On the female side of things, both Kappa Delta Epsilon and Sigma Delta have some of the higher numbers of tables in their basements, tallying in at six and five, respectively. Though vastly different in wall decor -- think psychedelic murals versus seedy '70s wood paneling -- the distinctly less-sticky floors and more subtle beer aromas underscore the "female" nature of the spaces, in conjunction with the "no body saves" rule, since pong balls just don't rebound as well off breasts.
Beyond this limited sampling of houses, there are slews of other pong-filled basements in which Greeks and non-Greeks come to sink, drink and be merry. Typically ranging from three to five tables unless crowds prompt other arrangements, rules, formations and penalties differ as much as layouts.
Where and if you choose to partake in pong inevitably comes down to more than ceiling height, but it's certainly something to keep in mind, whether you're training for your next great series or tournament or simply trying to impress that special someone.
Joanna is a staff writer for The Mirror. She's a varsity pong player who goes dry for the season.
