Anti-Spin

My first opponent was to be a Chinese man who informed me that he had just finished putting a new rubber on his bat (and apologized for the mess he had made while doing so). Despite his pen-grip style, elaborate service technique and recent equipment upgrade, he wasn’t actually very good. He did not play to the law of averages and went for an almighty forehand smash at every opportunity, of which just two landed on the table. I beat him easily.

My secret weapon is my bat. Its rubbers were once considered decent and were sticky (the stickiness of a rubber is what allows it to generate spin), but now they were about eight years old and completely smooth. This meant that I could hit shots with unpredictable spins and effects that never failed to baffle my opponents. After just one rally my next opponent was asking what rubbers I had. “Very old ones” I replied. Despite obviously being an experienced player, this chap just couldn’t handle my bat and after each wayward shot missed he looked at first my bat and second anyone watching with a look of confusion and dejection. I also beat him easily.

My next opponent, Mike, having witnessed my previous victory, marched straight round my side of the table to inspect my rubbers. “Anti-spin”, he instantly remarked and returned to his side of the table. Anti-spin? What on earth was that? I thought my bat was just really old! Having diagnosed my bat, Mike was now giving my previous opponent a demonstration of how to beat such a paddle – deploying a complicated serve followed by an enormous thwack of the ball that whistled past me before I had time to react. Except it wasn’t that simple and he lost 6 of the first 7 points. But then the match turned on its head and I surrendered the next 10 points to lose the first set. Maybe he did know how to beat an anti-spin player. Unfortunately for Mike, I learned how to defeat his strategy and won the next three sets comfortably. Afterwards the poor man looked like he had just lost his dog.

Later that evening, after I had finally been defeated by a canny old Asian man, Mike was back and now he was claiming my bat was illegal, because it didn’t play like it was designed to. Sour grapes, surely? Actually no, Ardy confirmed my bat was illegal and Mike sportingly played a further four sets against me, all of which I won.

It seemed I would have to get a new, legal, at and revamp my game style. I was certainly up for the challenge. Watch out Chi-Slam, I will be back.