I was absolutely crocked at the University Table of Dreams on Saturday afternoon. That’s not surprising considering I had run a half marathon ahead of playing table tennis.
That’s not quite true. It was a half marathon in distance but it was stop start with four separate runs.
Yeah, you absolute dick.
The new running regime, which is basically run everywhere instead of cycling, took its toll on my game of table tennis. You don’t say. I couldn’t even bend down to pick up the ball.
My playing partner didn’t help:
“Look at the ball when you hit it.”
As ever, cheers for that, luv.
A further compliment came:
“That’s a good serve.”
Yeah, I know. Although I think she was being slightly passive aggressive at the time. It was a bloody good serve though. GEDDIN there.
The game started to drift. I was in with a shout when I went from being 3-0 down to pulling a game back at 3-1. Win the next one and I’m hanging on in there.
But of course I lost the next one.
“Always show positive body language”
…came the next line of wisdom from my playing partner. That’s apparently one of the mantras she’s been told when swinging her stupid golf clubs out on the course.
I showed her some positive body language and gave her a Michael Jackson style hand on the crotch type movement. It wasn’t my best moment.
Alas, I lost 6-2.
It was actually much, much closer than it sounds.
