To the University! …on Friday afternoon for a game of table tennis.
Having signed away half my life savings the day before on sports centre membership, I thought it only fitting that I make the most of my new financial investment. There is no sounder monetary meaning to life than wiff waff.
Yes, we can play outdoors on the OG Table of Dreams; we can even play indoors for one hour a week down at the Sailing Club.
But you can’t beat having a FUCK OFF sports centre all to yourself with a table tennis table set up in the middle, so you can TWAT the ball back and forth with no other disturbances.
I make it sound also romantic, which is kinda true. It was in this exact very same space, some 36 years ago, that my playing partner and I both met for the first time. My only memory of our first game of wiff waff back in 1990 was that she later declared I had BO throughout our first date.
Whoops.
It took a little getting use to the new table setup at the University. It seemed to play considerably slower than both the outdoor table and the Sailing Club table.
My mind was slightly distracted, As well as reminiscing over past romantic liaisons within this grand sporting arena, I also remembered my first venture into the absurd world of aerobics, taking my final year exams, and also being sent off for the first and only time playing five-a-side football. All these events took place at the sports centre.
The table tennis for Friday afternoon wasn’t quite as adventurous. I was trailing 3-2. My partner suggested we take a break. I insisted on playing on. I was on an absolute roll. Of course she took the next game with a 4-2 lead into the break.
It all then went a little downhill, a bit like my aerobics, exams and football red card. I walked away from Wivenhoe Park with an 8-3 defeat to my name.
Whatever.