At the Corner of Ego and Shame...

With Audrey on a trip home for the weekend to gather her Spring Break attire, I’ve been left to my own devices for the next few days. Aside from the empty hours I’ve tried to fill by filling this page, it has also given me an opportunity to participate in my favorite game, and her least, without incessant chiding: Corners.

Corners is the most self-absorbed, egotistical, pressure-packed and glory-filled drinking game known to man. It was brought to the Fraternity from outsiders, and was originally met with some skepticism. The game stuck because of its unique way to breed contempt among competitors who want nothing more than to beat one another. Girls hate it because there is no such thing as a “friendly” game of Corners; the object is to win, and sometimes it causes ugly words or epic collisions as two players go after a ball and get tangled up with the fans.

Any decent Fraternity is filled with ego, because, after water, ego is the second-highest occurring mineral in a man’s body. Corners’ unique rules make it a team sport with a one-on-one aspect that stimulates the ego, a contact game that makes close encounters, and their consequences, inevitable, and the heightened experiences that follow a free-flowing beer tap.

It has been stated before, but I will say it again: men must compete with one another, be it who can hold their breath the longest, who can shove the most pretzels into their face, or who can shoot the most little white balls into a Solo cup. Male relationships are determined by a hierarchy, and you can move up or fall down based on your ability to compete and win. This is why sports are so important to men; we judge our value to society and our successes by comparing them to other men and their resumes. In competition, it is easy to judge; there is a winner and a loser. Women have chafed at this notion for years, because men cannot gauge the success of a heterosexual relationship with such a simple ruler.

The allure of Corners lies in the competitiveness of the matches. There is a palpable pressure to eliminate your opponent before he eliminates you, knowing that if you fail to make him drink, he can calmly grab the ball and force you to bury beer in your gullet. Defense also changes the nature of the game. Even on a bad shooting night, you can have a tremendous impact on the game, both because you can score without making a cup, and you can deflate your opponents.

Corners also combines the team concept with a one-on-one game. You want to prove yourself worthy and eliminate your opponents, but you also must answer to a teammate, and play a strategy that is mutually beneficial. Ultimately, it is a team game, but your fate is in your own hands. If you miss too many shots, it is likely you will be knocked out and unable to shoot for the rest of the game. Many players become obsessed and distracted by this fact, doing all they can to prevent being knocked out, sometimes at the detriment to their teammate.

So, how do you play it, and what separates it from any other beer pong-typed contests? For starters, there is the elimination factor. The game starts with each player having his own cup, one placed on every corner of the table, hence the name of the game. It is filled to the brim with beer, and a player must drink half of his cup if a shot is sunk. Therefore, each shot carries more weight than a beer pong shot, because you are only two shots away from elimination (as opposed to six, or ten, etc). The game also deviates from pong because a player can score without making a cup. If a shot hits the rim of an opponent’s cup and drops to the floor, the player whose cup was hit must drink a quarter or the cup. However, he has the opportunity to catch the ball before it hits the ground, thus saving himself the chore of chugging. Finally, all shots are live; players must keep both feet behind “half court,” but any balls they can reach and are able to secure become theirs for another turn, even ones that hit an opponents cup and drop to the floor. This can prove devastating to a team, because they are forced to drink and still do not possess the ball.

Corners is an opportunity for failed athletes to relive their glory; at parties, when two highly-respected teams clash, legions of onlookers gather round to up the atmosphere. Critiques and praises are lobbied at the combatants as the next team eagerly anticipates their opportunity to shine. The pace is fast, the strategy changes on every shot and one mistake can doom a team, even if they are way out in front. It’s not just a game; we collect wins like girls collect shoes. Some call it childish, others call it simple, but I simply get a childish grin whenever I walk into a room with a game going down.

For the full rule book, e-mail me at press.on09@gmail.com.