Table Tennis (and the Meaning of Life)

Table Tennis (and the Meaning of Life)

I was watching the Olympics a few months ago and made a point of checking out the table tennis. I used to play a lot as a teenager—we had a table at home and my brother also played. Naturally, I was pretty good at it (the best in the school anyway). I thought: “Damn it, Colin, get a table! You love the game and used to be good at it—why hesitate?” The reason I hesitated was that I had no one to play with, or no one available and good. But, I reasoned, once you get the table you will find partners—just go for it! So, I went for it: I bought a table and installed it on my front porch. Of course, I bought new bats (rackets, paddles) and a high-quality net (very important), as well as dozens of balls (now hundreds). I found a couple of friends to hit with, though not of the most expert level, and it turned out my handy man and a construction manager I know were pretty good players (but not very available). I was still not supplied with enough partners to fulfil my needs, however. So, what did I do? First, I bought what is called a rebound board—a mounted plank with a rubber surface that sends the ball back to you when you hit it. This was okay, but you need to be a skilled player to keep the rally going. I decided to buy a table tennis ball machine that would spit balls at me for practice. It came with a net to fit over the other end of the table to catch the balls. This was a step up, because it simulates real play, though not perfectly. But you can’t serve to it, so I needed to work on my serve separately. This was about three weeks ago: I undertook rigorous serving practice.

The thing is, you don’t normally practice your serve, because you are always playing other people. But that was not my situation, so I practiced my serve a lot. And I did it thoroughly, systematically, diligently. Let’s talk about the serve, because it’s a fascinating topic. There are basically three kinds of table tennis serve: topspin, backspin, and sidespin. These can be executed either by forehand or backhand, so there are quite a few possibilities; and that’s not counting variations (e.g., backspin with sidespin), as well as bat trajectories. I invented a couple of new types of serve that I have never seen used and are perfectly good ways to serve (hard to explain without being able to provide a demonstration). I have hit thousands of serves over the last three weeks. For me, the easiest is backhand topspin, a fast serve with a lot of action on the ball (it flies up in the air when you try to return it). I improved this tremendously. I also figured out the best way to hold the bat for forehand topspin serves—in tennis lingo, use a western not a continental grip, which requires moving the forefinger across the back face of the bat (again, I would need to show you). Now, when you put in this amount of work, you develop a wide range of serves that go in and are difficult to return. You also get much more consistent, rarely missing. The time came to play with my handy man partner Michael and I was interested to learn what all that practice had done for my game (it’s hard to judge without a partner). This was yesterday. He is a very decent player with a fast forehand serve and mastery of spin (though somewhat out of practice). I killed him. Previously, he was holding his own, but not anymore. Oh no. My point is that in table tennis you can dominate just by serving well—particularly because most amateurs never practice their serve. They just play and hope their serve improves. This is emphatically not good enough. Mark my words: YOU HAVE TO PRACTICE YOUR SERVE. It’s the same in regular tennis, but in table tennis it’s crucial. Most players simply cannot return a well-trained serve, but it isn’t that hard to develop such a serve (unlike tennis). And I wasn’t even using my fancy serves! I am a decent human being, after all. Poor Michael, standing there, befuddled, defeated—I felt for him, I really did. I told him about the previous three weeks and encouraged him to work on his serve, or serves (you do need several). I gave him some tips. I analyzed his serve for him (it was illegal by the way). I thought: “All that solitary practice paid off”. My game had been transformed. As a bonus, my other shots were considerably improved because of all the bat discipline I had instilled in myself. It was hard work, but it paid off (and not that hard).

How does this bear on the meaning of life? Well, table tennis is the meaning of life for serious players, but for us amateurs the parallels are obvious. Chiefly: Put in the less glamorous and less fun work; be patient; analyze what you are trying to achieve; turn deficits into opportunities; spend time alone; focus. I had never thought of practicing my serve this way as a teenager—I just wanted to play. But it would have improved my game massively: a good serve kills. It defeats, destroys, humiliates. Of course, expert players would have no problem returning serves at the level I am talking about—they would kill my serve. It would come back at me unreturnably—smash! During this period of table tennis dedication (madness?), I watched a video on YouTube of Roger Federer playing table tennis with an eight-year-old Chinese girl (name of Pineapple). I knew Roger could play, but I was impressed with his level of ability—he has clearly played a lot of table tennis. She destroyed him. He asked her how long she had been playing; she said since she was five, so three years. He said he had been playing thirty years, giggling the while. That’s table tennis for you. He looked like a klutz next to her. Anyway, my life advice to you is this: Practice your serve.[1]

[1] I would actually like to teach the game—particularly to young children and old codgers,