To the Sailing Club! …on Monday evening. You know the routine by now. Monday night is wiff waff social night down at the Sailing Club.
The short walk down there was a little brisk. This was the first time this season I needed a winter coat. These small details matter.
Downstairs at the Sailing Club there was a GC meeting taking place. It looked like serious business. I gave the old boys a brief wave and then headed upstairs for the more social table tennis session.
We had four players, which meant we were playing to 21 rather than the preferred 11. I can get lucky when you play to 11. All it takes is for me to get three shots ahead and then the game’s pretty much mine.
Twenty one, however, requires concentration. My mind isn’t wired for any sustained level of concentration, not even beyond a five minute stretch.
This was an evening for smashing. I bloody love smashing a ball. I actually volunteered to give smash lessons to the other three players. There were no takers.
In response I got some advice about a different type of shot altogether:
“Flick your wrist, grip less hard.”
That’s what she said, etc.
In the end it was the smash that won it. My record for the evening was played 3, won 3 in the singles and then played 2, won 2 in the doubles.
GEDDIN.
A final question came my way on the short walk home as I was still buttoning up my winter coat:
“When you’re receiving and you’re playing doubles, do you stand so you take it on your forehand?”
Yeah, that’s what she said innit.