Beer Pong at CJ's Place

Yes, I said beer pong.

The game championed by college students across the country has taken a step toward legitimacy. Toward recognition. Maybe even, one day, the Olympics (or not).

Beer pong is no longer restricted to the dingy garages and brightly lit backyards of off-campus houses. CJ's Place (on Forest Ave. in Portland) has opened its arms and floorspace to the game - albeit in a slightly reduced form (water is used in the cups instead of beer, and you don't drink the water).

CJ's began the Tuesday event a few months ago without a lot of fanfare. When I first got wind of the goings on I couldn't help but disbelieve. Beer pong? In a bar? That just isn't right.

Or maybe it's oh-so-right.

I had to see for myself - there were too many questions. Is it a tournament? Are players really drinking cheap, flat beer (that's been touched by God-knows-who) from classic red Solo cups? Do the authorities know about this?

We finally rallied some people together last Tuesday and headed over just after 9:00 p.m. John "Terps" Everett (coworker and Bar Guider) had chatted with the daytime manager beforehand and was told there were four tables set up for the purpose of beer ponging - and that playing was first come, first serve. No high-stakes tournaments here. And while CJ's is packed wall to wall on Friday and Saturday nights - according to the manager - he wasn't sure what the Tuesday night crowd looked like.

Having seen it first hand, I can tell you: It looked like two guys at a table - and three or four more regulars hanging out at the bar (likely oblivious to this whole 'beer pong' nonsense).

There was no crowd.

I was surprised. It may be CJ's on a Tuesday, but beer pong has a pretty faithful following that I thought for sure would turn out. At least a handful anyway.

No matter, we had brought our own crowd of 10 and intended on playing, regardless of who else was or was not in attendance. And here we ran into roadblock No. 1. There was only one table - which was already occupied by the aforementioned duo.

We milled around for a few minutes, thinking perhaps we were early and the festivities hadn't really taken off yet. But impatience took over and I asked the bartender if there was another table she could bring out. There was. She did.

Now for roadblock No. 2.

It sometimes seems like red Solo cups are in never-ending supply. After how many college parties, how many shotgun weddings, how many family reunions, I can't ever recall a time when we ran out of Solo cups. How could you - they're like 99 cents for 2,000.

But as the bartender hauled out the second table (thanks kind lady) she likewise informed us that the Solo cup stash had run dry (um, what?).

Beer pong without Solo cups? Es imposible! After some mild hemming and hawing on our part, someone jetted off to buy some cups.

I should note that - despite being called 'beer pong' (or Beirut, if you prefer) - no beer was used in the making of this event. The cups are actually filled with water (yes, yes, blasphemy) but $1.50 Budweiser and PBR drafts should keep cheap beer drinkers happy.

There was zero organization regarding the game - to the chagrin of the more serious players among us who insisted on maintaining the highest level of formality.

Eventually some scrap paper was scrounged up to use as a sign-up sheet and the "we'll play winners" started flying.

Any talent for the game that I once possessed back at EIU was long, long gone. I scored one cup the first game - one. But maybe my grandmother was right, and beer pong IS just like riding a bike: it's a skill you'll always retain. Game two I was back in the swing of things (as in, didn't win but could at least compete).

Aside from the table and cup glitches and the slow start to the night, we all agreed it was a good time. The event would be greatly improved if a) there were enough cups for four tables. b) There were four tables c) Someone at the bar took charge and organized teams/brackets. The competition factor could really entice the regulars.