There was blue sky above the bloody Estuary Wilds for Wednesday lunchtime. We both had a spare half hour.

Hey! How about some midweek wiff waff?

Sure.

The field was empty. This meant that I could empty my extreme potty mouth whenever a shot didn’t work out.

OH CHUFF, etc.

The grass around was wet. This led to the ball becoming a little water heavy. It wasn’t a game in which to turn to spin.

If in doubt, TWAT IT.

There goes the potty mouth.

A friendly dog approached us during a crucial point in the game. He lifted his right hind leg and pissed all over my table tennis bag.

The dirty dog, etc.

This put me off my stroke. I caved in, losing 3-2.

It was the tail that wagged the wiff waff dog.

Another day, another BATTERING at the Table of Dreams.

We’re talking 4-1 here.

Oh dear.

I started strong. I always start strong. I raced to a 1-0 lead.

My early tactics are to basically TWAT the ball around the table. I’m very good at TWATTING - especially so when it comes to finding the corners.

I then get a little cocky.

Hey! Let’s spin it to win it!

I love executing spin, even if the ball doesn’t bounce on the other end of the table. It’s a very satisfying stroke.

My interest in the game started to disappear, along with the fading winter light. We ended up playing pretty much in darkness.

Lights out.

To the Table of Dreams!

…on Wednesday lunchtime. We were both free. There was brilliant Estuary Wilds blue sky up above.

Make bloody hay, etc.

The tactical decision was taken to play with the conventional, non-wind ball. This took a little getting use to.

We’re use to TWATTING the extra heavy wind ball around the table.

It’s great for rallies where you are both playing power shots and smashes, as each player moves further away from the table.

It’s a macho style of play, almost reduced to an arm wresting contest.

But I like to embrace my, ahem, feminine side in table tennis every now and then.

Spin it to win it, Jase.

The conventional ball is a delicate affair. It needs caressing. It needs the dog shit from the public playing field to be wiped off before play.

The scores were level at 2-2. This would usually be signal to get bored, start showboating and walk away with yet another defeat.

But not on Wednesday. I found a new cautious side to my game. Play safe, wait for her to make the mistakes.

Oh dear, luv. You didn’t want to do that.

My feminine side was well and truly embraced, even if was playing wiff waff whilst wearing the most ridiculous pair of wellies.

To the Table of Dreams! Under fading light!

The window of opportunity for these hit and miss knock ups is diminishing. We are accelerating towards the Winter Solstice. Wiff waffle under candle light is a little woeful.

There was just enough time to get a best of five games in. At 3-1 down I had already accepted defeat and was ready to walk.

Must we really play a fifth game?

MUST WE?

Oh go on then. For shit ‘n’ giggles.

Time to experiment with some spin. Some you win, some you lose. I usually lose, tbh.

I was a little distracted with people watching, rather than ping pong. Playing outdoors in a public park is a great opportunity to capture the daily back and forth movements of folk.

It also coincided with the return of the early morning commuters, back in the town, just as the Estuary Wilds sun was setting.

You don’t get many table tennis daytime opportunities when you’re stuck in the 9-5, Comrades.

“You really are the most HORRID child.”

Steady the buffers, Madam.

Some poor little ankle biter was receiving a stern ticking off in the nearby playground, just as I was being BATTERED with bat and ball.

I had the luxury to walk. The poor kid didn’t.

To the Table of Dreams!

The Estuary Wilds sun and dry weather was for once too good to resist. It was our first outdoor game in a couple of weeks.

Wellies were worn. Which is something that you are unlikely to see at an Olympic wiff waff gold medal game.

They were needed as well.

Worms casting were at each end of the table. This wasn’t a firm foundation for a serious game.

We opted for the uniform ball, rather than the extra heavy wind design. This allowed me to arse around with spin.

It also allowed me to come close to taking each game, only to showboat with silly spin, and not quite take the glory.

Still, the spin looked cool as fuck YEAH?

The bloody Church bells kicked in. This seriously put me off.

STFU etc.

A 3-2 defeat.

It’s like I’ve never been away.