Hell yeah folks, we’re watching Scorching Ping Pong Girls! It has been a ridiculously long time since we last explored an episode of this one – so long, in fact, that I no longer have any idea what our ongoing conflicts are, or what narrative/emotional/thematic threads I should be paying close attention to. BE RIGHT BACK, GOTTA REFRESH.
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ALRIGHT, I’m back! So from what I’m gathering, the last episode was pretty much the end of Scorching Ping Pong Girls’ first act, ending on Agari at last embracing ping pong because she genuinely loved it, instead of simply using it as a vehicle for personal praise. That character turn all came about because of Koyori’s earnest love of the sport, and her desire to use it not as a way to prove her dominance, but as a way simply to communicate with others.

That’s a twist I really like, partially because it seems like a truthful reflection of the ways personal anxiety can express itself, and also partly because “competition as communication” is one of the things I find most compelling about sports drama and competition in general. It’s essentially another way of articulating the tactical appeal of really good competitive games; from fighting games to sports to board games, great contests involve a continuous exchange of proposals and counter-offers, an argument held in a language of tactics. That stuff is all pretty much fundamental to tactical drama, but setting it as Koyori’s signature skill seems to imply this show will be even more focused on tactical repartee than most, like a Mizushima production. But anyway, last episode concluded on the partial introduction of a Mysterious Stranger, and we’ve got work to do. Let’s dive into the next episode of Scorching Ping Pong Girls!

Episode 4

We open in gym class, where Koyori is about to get owned by the standing horse

And, punchline

I appreciate Hanabi’s perpetual stupid grin through this scene. She’s just here to have a good time

“It’s been a few weeks since I transferred here.” An unsurprising time skip. Koyori’s integration into the team, and Agari’s thoughts on that in particular, were the show’s first source of conflict. With that having been resolved for the moment, nothing else about Koyori getting settled into the team has much narrative importance – better to fast-forward to the point where the team has established a new neutral, to first articulate that default and then introduce a new disruption. Narratives demand conflict, but they also demand points where the audience can briefly settle, particularly when it comes to arc-based sequentially released media

“What I love most is how playing with Agari-chan always makes my heart race.” Right, this show is gay as heck

So they’ve developed a friendlier rivalry, with Agari regularly defending her top spot

“I keep my spot as team ace!” “You sure did!” Their dynamic is so good. Agari wants a hot-blooded shonen rival, but Koyori is just too friendly and adoring to actually fight back

Good putty faces

“Agari-senpai pinched her cheeks!” “Koyori’s cheeks are in trouble!” Oh my god this peanut gallery. I forgot this show was actually really funny

“The number one spot changes so much, we can’t keep up!” An awkwardly “as we both know” conversation used to shore up our understanding of the new neutral. “Let’s proudly articulate something we’re excited about” is a pretty common way to try and cloak the fact that you’re having characters explain their situation to the audience, but once you see it, it’s hard to unsee. Better to have the characters engage in some active conversation where the information you need to convey arises incidentally, instead of just having them say crap like “we sure are excited about the new camaraderie that has developed between our leads over the course of friendly matches through the past three weeks”

“Unlike Agari-chan, Koyori-chan lacks a certain critical something.” This isn’t “as we both know” exposition, fortunately – the conversation has segued into a staple of sports dramas, the sideline commentary

“Taily lacks something?” To make dialogue like this feel like a natural conversation, as opposed to more feeding of the audience, you generally include someone who’s ignorant of this sport’s finer details in the commentary crew to be “talked at” and provoke more explanations. This person can be the rookie protagonist themselves, a significant other or family member, or in this case, just a huge dumbass like Hanabi

Koyori has a dog-themed shirt and a dog-themed lunchbox. SHE LIVES THIS

The captain is apparently returning

A nice Dezaki-style postcard shot for Koyori’s visions of Agari fighting the captain

It is amazing how much mileage this show gets out of Koyori’s hair-ears. They are very expressive, and add tiny incidental visual gags throughout every conversation

This shot aimed over their head emphasizes the clear theming of each of their hair styles. I feel like this show’s aggressive symbology assigned to each of its characters kinda dehumanizes them in an intentional way – it makes them feel less like people than vehicles for certain kinds of energy, whether it’s Koyori’s doglike enthusiasm or Agari’s tsundere posturing

Looks like the captain’s color theme is black

Very obvious symbolism as Agari lets go of Koyori’s sleeve to walk to the captain. Are we in for a shonen rival love triangle arc?

Oh dang, is she the “never actually opens her eyes” type? I’ve been a sucker for that type ever since Kitsune in Love Hina

Right, Koyori is extremely nervous around new people

It seems like the captain is kind of a troll. She’s messing with Koyori, and even calling out the characters on their visual motifs

I had forgotten about this show’s extremely horny eyecatches

Kiruka Ushirode is the captain

“How I’ve missed my boob pillow.” Munemune, I am sorry. What an unfortunate character you’ve turned out to be

Kiruka challenges literally everyone at once

They translate Kiruka’s “punishment game” as “dare or dare,” which is an interesting way to handling a relatively common Japanese phrase that doesn’t have a clean english parallel

Apparently Kiruka likes to punish people by making them wear cosplay, which is I guess how this show is going to justify random cosplay outfits

Now that she’s here, Kiruka already feels pretty necessary. The team didn’t really have a propulsive leadership figure before – Munemune’s basically just an accommodating mom, and Agari’s only concerned with her own immediate drama. Shows like this need someone willing to make bold, ambitious claims and drag everyone else along with them

Now the random first years play the part of audience avatar, asking questions as Koyori explains Kiruka’s play style

She’s the master of the chop swing, which imparts heavy backswing and makes the ball feel heavy, since it’s spinning downwards extremely quickly

I’ve played enough tennis to get the mechanics of these shots pretty quickly, but I’m very happy the show is explaining their technical mechanics. It’s laying the groundwork for actual tactical exchanges, where we can immediately parse the flow of battle in terms of its strategic back-and-forth

Oh god the rack pillow is going to be a recurring joke, isn’t it

It’s still interesting to me how heavily this show works to characterize its main cast in terms of a few specific visual, auditory, and comic motifs. Now it’s making an outright gag of Hokuto’s persistent “beam” (actually a shortening of her name, another way her design works in service of her motifs) squaring off with Kiruka’s “mwaha!” I’m not sure I’d call it a dramatically or emotionally effective choice, but it’s at the very least a fairly unique one, and one that sort of counterbalances the self-seriousness of this show’s melodramatic matches. Perhaps that is part of its intent – to keep things tonally light even when the drama is getting heavy

Only Koyori and Agari are left, in spite of their order theoretically being drawn by lots. That’s not a problem – there are certain situations in media where your audience will be more or less forgiving of improbable narrative convenience, and the ordering of a tournament’s matches is one of the easiest to get away with. While audiences also do generally value “realism” (or at least a simulacrum of it as feels convincing in fiction), it’s important to also remember that audiences and creators both ultimately want exciting stories, and if your contrivance is a minor choice that facilitates a great deal of excitement, it’s generally likely to be “forgiven” by the audience (that is, their emotional investment won’t stumble upon it)

“I just don’t need this many kitties. I regret not switching to dog ears halfway through.” Kiruka might actually be great

“We are definitely going to Nationals this time!” Even Kiruka’s disappointment helps push the group further

AW SHIT SHE OPENED HER EYES

Ahaha, this friggin’ Star Wars poster-ass final shot

And Done

Well crap, all of that time since we watched Scorching Ping Pong Girls, and we returned with a friggin’ transition episode! Still, as far as transition episodes go, this one certainly gave me plenty to talk about. Ping Pong Girls’ comedy credentials are kinda suspect, but its strength as a traditional sports narrative is unquestionable, and it’s always satisfying seeing a confident series nail a familiar refrain. And with the nobodies all defeated, it seems like next episode will be ferocious matches from start to finish. I hope I see you again much sooner than last time, Scorching Ping Pong Girls!

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