We took a punt for a Friday lunchtime game of wiff waff. The weather above was changeable. It wasn’t quite four seasons in one day, but we could feel the Estuary Wilds blowing up a storm with every passing points.
And yep - the points did pass around - mostly against me. I wasn’t helped by my attire. You haven’t LIVED THE DREAM if you haven’t played outdoor winter table tennis wearing a cheapo pair of Dunlop green wellies.
The mud around the foot of the table was the least of our worries. Mid-game and it became noticeable that the lime wind ball had turned a dark shade of brown. On closer inspection it also revealed what the foul smell was: dog shit.
NEW BALLS!
All the mucky business meant that our mental concentration was shot. We messed up a few times with the scores, and who was suppose to be serving. The final score was a 4-1 defeat to me. It may just have been the other way round.
Possibly.
