It’s been a joy in recent weeks walking down to the Monday evening table tennis sessions at the sailing club. Those dark winter days seem in the distant past when a headlight was needed to navigate the various obstacles and estuary path en route to the Table Tennis HQ.
I rocked up shortly after 7:00 PM on Monday to find a high tide that was completely flat as a pancake. It was most tranquil. Time to disrupt that peace with some ping pong action.
Our usual group had been reduced to three for this evening, no worries. That meant extra table time for us all. We played a rough game of winner stays on. I wasn’t on for very long.
I was finding it hard to find my length on the indoor table, having been blown away at the Oval yesterday, as well as then having a bit of a pickleball strength left in my arms from the session this morning.
I do love playing indoors, and the sailing club location is the most picturesque setting for a game of whiff-waff. Apologies, oval table of dreams, but there’s no dog shit to manoeuvre around here.
