Ping Pong

My buddy at work, Robert got his family a ping pong table for Christmas. I mention this because he asked me if I played. It has been years but when I was in the Air Force I was one dangerous man at a ping pong table. My room mate, Dave and I would at times wake up at 2 or 3 AM and go bash for hours. We practiced so much against each other that we were the only ones who had a snowball's chance in Hell of returning each others' serves. We'd barely clear the net and clip the back edge of the table. We'd both bought standard paddles with the rubber pips facing out, peeled the pads off one side, reversed them and glued them back on. This gave the sides of the paddle slightly different spin from each other. Mostly only against each other Dave and I also held in our left hands, ready to switch to... "The Ball Breakers". Used almost entirely for a smash, these were Old School sandpaper coated paddles. A good hard driven smash with a rubber faced paddle can bust a ball on the table but these nasty little jewels would send a broken ball directly from the paddle. Also a switch to the "BB" would back the other player far back from the table expecting a smash. This allowed a "butterfly kiss" to barely drop the ball over the net.
I don't have space in my house for a full ping pong table  but I think I have enough plywood to construct a makeshift practice board in the yard. I've no illusions nor delusions of an immediate return to the table at my once 100% dominant form but also have no doubts that in short time Robert won't be inviting nor even allowing me over to play anymore!