To the Table of Dreams!
…on Wednesday lunchtime. We were both free. There was brilliant Estuary Wilds blue sky up above.
Make bloody hay, etc.
The tactical decision was taken to play with the conventional, non-wind ball. This took a little getting use to.
We’re use to TWATTING the extra heavy wind ball around the table.
It’s great for rallies where you are both playing power shots and smashes, as each player moves further away from the table.
It’s a macho style of play, almost reduced to an arm wresting contest.
But I like to embrace my, ahem, feminine side in table tennis every now and then.
Spin it to win it, Jase.
The conventional ball is a delicate affair. It needs caressing. It needs the dog shit from the public playing field to be wiped off before play.
The scores were level at 2-2. This would usually be signal to get bored, start showboating and walk away with yet another defeat.
But not on Wednesday. I found a new cautious side to my game. Play safe, wait for her to make the mistakes.
Oh dear, luv. You didn’t want to do that.
My feminine side was well and truly embraced, even if was playing wiff waff whilst wearing the most ridiculous pair of wellies.
