As Erin Michet noted in her recent article, Dartmouth is world renown for producing America’s highest functioning alcoholics. Drinking is one of the cultural cornerstones of student life, and pong elevates an otherwise simple pursuit to an art form. I have had several friends who attend colleges and universities all over the country visit Dartmouth. After experiencing one night at Dartmouth, they frequently ask, “wait… This school is in the Ivy League?”

Dartmouth students go hard, in every aspect of their lives. There is an awe-inspiring degree of creative, intellectual, and athletic energy in the Dartmouth student population. As Hoyt Alverson, a Dartmouth Anthropology professor, noted in an ethnographic study of Dartmouth student culture, “Dartmouth is an inherently competitive place. Dartmouth students tend to be extremely self-motivated, ‘type A’ people who thrive on competition against others, and against themselves.” In this light, Pong is a competitive outlet—a way to distinguish yourself in a place where everyone is harder, better, faster, and stronger than you.

Unfortunately, the rest of the nation does not recognize Pong. They, instead, indulge in some bastardized incarnation. Authors Dan DiSorbo and Ben Applebaum recently published The Book of Beer Pong, an insightful, humorous survey of the history and game play of Beer Pong as it is played at most schools throughout the nation—without paddles or heart. If you can get over the inherent bro-ness of owning such a book, it is a great read. This book could have easily been a terrible string of broisms, but I am happy to report that the presentation and prose befits the “Sport of Champions”. While proper Pong is mentioned several times in the book, the focus is on Beirut style incarnations.

One of the most enjoyable aspects of visiting other schools is becoming familiar with their culture. The games we play and the way we play them often reveal a great deal about who we are. For example, the legendary Ball Game was a clear demonstration of the interconnectedness of the politics and religion of the Classic Maya. Similarly, if in some distant future all that remains of Dartmouth is a frat basement, a few paddles, and a table drenched in beer and boot, anthropologists could accurately infer a great deal about Dartmouth culture. I most enjoyed DiSorbo’s book when I began to look at the history and game play of Beer Pong at other schools as endemic of that school.

What inferences can we make about the sad people who play Beirut? Beirut does not sate the same competitive thirst as Pong. It provides players with social satisfaction rather than the thrill of competition. A Beirut table is not a proving ground; it is a petting zoo. Of course, you can take animal tending to a competitive level, but a 4H competition is not and never will be the Super Bowl. Why, then, do most people seem to prefer Beirut? Why is Beirut the dominant form? Simple. Nobody else can go as hard as us. 

You can find The Book of Beer Pong site here