We didn’t have music practice last night, so I went back to the ping pong club. There were four other guys there, only one of whom I hadn’t met before, Mike. Mike held his paddle in an unusual way, kinda Chinese style but a little different, and he was able to hit shots in some (what appeared to me) very unorthodox ways. I started off playing him, and actually won one game (out of four).
Mike then proceeded to beat Rick, the Jamaican, and George, who had previously beaten me very badly. At the end of the night, I played Mike again, and won two out of five games, coming within reach on the final game. Go figure. Everyone’s game is a bit different, and I guess Mike doesn’t play as well against someone who plays like me. Max, the 80-year-old, can beat them all regularly.
I talked to my Mom the day before, and she mentioned a ping pong club in South Bend (where they pastor), and that one player there played on the Olympic ping pong team. I mentioned this to Max. “Oh yeah, I beat him when he was up-and-coming. He didn’t know what to do with me.”
