pingpong.

I’m currently blogging from bible camp @ CCC, BF.

For reasons I do not know, they call it bible class instead.

November and December have had been the busiest this year, even when I’m ‘camping’ beside the beach. Church activities, that is. Sometimes it all gets a little too much. I do not enjoy too much repetition of something. It wears out fast, on me.

I was reunited with one of my old loves during high school, here in camp. Since I have another day and a half to go, this old flame had really brought back memories deeply hidden in my head.

I forgot to clarify. The ‘old flame’ did not refer to a living person mentioned before in previous entries. It was ping pong.

Only once, I think, have I blogged about this old girl, very dear to me even though I do not get much of her very frequently. Often a younger girl takes her place, and her name is basketball. It is ironic, seeing as most of my high school sporting activities are ping pong ones!

It is tradition for most churches in Malaysia to have one or two ping pong table in their premises. Here they have two shabby ones, though sufficient for a reasonable game. I did not bring my bat the previous camp, but this time Luke is kind enough to borrow his to me, albeit with a ball that broke during the first game. Butterfly bat with no ball bro.

Most of the participants are… so-so, but there have been a few surprises here and there. I played with an elderly man with solid moves and a powerful stroke, complete with experience. It was too bad that he did not have the stamina I would like him to. We had two good games, but it was not enough. I felt like a drug addict cutting short while halfway to paradise.

Tonight I met a young player, Form 3, and we played a series of best of 3, each wining apiece before I sealed the deal. Playing with him brought back so much memories – the various ways players serve, their eyes focused and following their opponents’ every movement with rapt attention, powerful strokes with style, quick feet movement complete with a successful parry and the opponent’s momentary loss of control,  and a moment’s hesitation before resuming the game to regain tempo. All these are the many nuances of the game, esoteric in its nature, and give the game its own flavour. Ping pong is only reasonably popular in this country, and its players a niche group.

Playing the young guy brought many moves out of me. Many of them are associated with a particularly memorable match, or with a player I had admired. All these came to me when I managed to smash the ball while it was on the right side, bringing me almost to my knees. Just like old times, I savoured.