For some reason, I just don't feel like talking about work today. So for the first time in the history of cantbefired, I'm going to discuss something completely unrelated to the goings on of my office. And today, that would be the World Series of Beer Pong.
Obviously everyone plays or has played this silly, pointless, college game that mixes hand eye coordination with the ultimate test of alcoholic tolerance. Personally, I am a fan of anything that mixes competition and drinking, and this does so perfectly. It can be a great way to start up a buzz when you're pre-gaming. It's an amazing game for when you return from the bars at 2am and have nothing to do, but don't feel quite like passing out. And it even works as a way to pass the time when you're bored on a Wednesday night, alone with your thoughts and a 12 pack of the Silver Bullet. But recently, I discovered, it can also be a way to make money.
Every January in Las Vegas, the Flamingo Hotel (I once passed out in a broom closet of this casino at 4am after losing everything. It's a swell place) hosts the World Series of Beer Pong. There are usually a few hundred teams that take the trip to the desert to vie for the chance to win a nice little $50,000 grand prize. All for shooting balls into cups. I love America. Granted, the topless pool bar at the Mirage will be closed this time of year, but it's all still worth it in my opinion.
Now, here's the catch. You and your teammate can enter in one of two ways. Either pay the team entry fee of $1,000, or win a satellite tournament that will pay the fee for you. Those tournaments are all occurring within the next few weeks across the country, and can be found here.
Granted, if a good percentage of my income next year comes from winning a beer pong tournament, I would feel a bit ashamed of myself. Lucky for me though, shame went out the door awhile ago. That's why I'm going to compete. First, I'm going to attempt to win the satellite tournament in College Park, MD, against a bunch of college kinds that don't have persistence and fortitude I have. Then I will proceed to Las Vegas with a suitcase full of ones, a box of Asprin, and my pinpoint left arm. I might even film the whole thing. It'll be like Rounders, except I doubt John Malcovich will agree to being cast as KGB, and I probably won't be able to get Famke Janssen to make out with me. Either way, I'm taking down the pot.
"Listen, here's the thing. If you can't spot the sucker in the first half hour at the table, then you ARE the sucker."
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