Table Tennis Sprint

I jogged out through the gate and sprinted down to the park, scaling the thick metal leg of an outdoor ping-pong table. Resting right against the perforated steel net was a stray white ping-pong ball! I dropped into a stance, squared my shoulder against the hollow shell, and gave it a fierce shove. Whoa! It didn't roll like an acorn or orange—it blasted forward with almost zero weight, bouncing across the smooth green surface with rapid, hollow clicks! I bolted after it, leaped forward, and clamped both hands right over the speeding ball just an inch from the edge. Ha, that little flyer almost got away!