Cheers erupt from the back table. A thirty-something, slightly sweaty in dark jeans and collared shirt, pumps his fist, Tiger-style, celebrating a zinger that caught the corner and kept on going. High-fives are given, drinks are spilled — but in the rush of victory, no one cares, just as no one minds the small white balls flying across the room like popcorn. What people do notice is how much fun they're having, all while playing a game that, until recently, was only snickered at in the Olympics ("You call that a sport?") or used by college students as... More >>>