World Championships

Men’s Singles at the Worlds

By Tim Boggan

In the 128-Draw proper, in #1 seed Wang Liqin’s 32-player section, North and South Korean players fared better in 7-game matches than expected. The PRK’s Pak Won Chol almost upset Poland’s World #64 Bartosz Such; Ri Choi Guk almost stopped Germany’s World #32 Jorg Rosskopf; while their qualifying compatriot Kim Song Chol did do in Belgium’s World # 81 Philippe Saive who, fluent in four languages, says his ambition at 33 is to stay ranked in the Top 100. France’s Patrick Chila, upset by Korea’s Lee Jin Kwon, had nevertheless been wearing well—16 years ago at age 19 he ranked World #15, now he was #33.

Give Denmark’s World #47 Allan Bentsen credit for 4-3 downing Russia’s Alexei Liventsov that he might afterwards be blanked by China’s current Pro Tour Grand Final winner Wang Liqin. Grant that 5-time Olympic qualifier “Rossi” Rosskopf, after advancing by Taipei’s Wu Chih-Chi in 7, had his initial chances (up 1-0 and at deuce in the 2^nd) against China’s startlingly fast Chen Qi. Above all, agree it was Hong Kong’s righty penhold looper, Li Ching, World #38, who repeatedly caught the spectators’ attention. In the 2^nd round, he 12-10 in the 7^th upset Austria’s 33-year-old World #14, the long pips chopper Chen Weixing. Then, in the round of 32, against World #27, lefty looper Trinko Keen, Li’s down 3-0, then 3-1 and 10-8 match point. But Trinko’s vaunted serves are of no avail as Li deuces it, then holds four game points before finally 15-13 forcing the towering Netherlands star into the 6^th. Completing his comeback, Li takes the last two games, starting the 7^th with a 6-1 lead and running it out from 8-5.

And he’s just warming up. Next opponent, Shanghai’s own, Wang Liqin. With, in the beginning, the expected results? Oh, yes. Wang hurries to a 5-1 lead, but no sooner does Li catch him, o,o,o,o,o,o ing the crowd with a series of lobs, than he 6-11 drops out of contention, and 4-11 in the 2^nd stays out of contention. In the 3^rd, the players open by feeling their back and forth way at the net before one or the other sets off the explosion. Up 5-4, Wang, an athletic giant compared to the lithe Li Ching, misses an all-out smash and stamps both feet. Li counters by stumbling over an upturned O in the LG RE X COURT letters that because of the humidity can’t be reaffixed to the court floor and has to be taken up. When play continues, Wang goes ahead 9-6, threatens to dominate the more…then, surprise, loses 5 in a row.

In the 4^th, Wang’s up 8-5, again can’t hold the lead (he plays too many short balls?), falls behind game-point, then aces a return down Li’s far forehand that sends him sprawling. But when Li again gets the ad, Wang swats one off. Match all even. Now, though, exploiting the penhold looper’s tendency to run around his forehand, Wang effectively sends balls to Li’s far right and 11-3 easily regains control. Only to lose the 6^th at 6. “CHIN-a! CHINA!” Wang heeds the drum-call to action, but when Li scores on first an edge and then a net, his 6-4 lead doesn’t seem that secure, and he calls Time. Which respite is apparently what he needs, for in a few moments the score is 10-4, and Wang will move to the quarter’s to meet Chen Qi. World #7 Chen had just 4-0 tumbled former Olympic Champion King Kong Linghui, now close to 30 but still not retired though his first World Singles win was 10 years ago. (Says he doesn’t have the patience to coach.)

In Wang’s half of the Draw, Taipei’s World #8, Chuan Chih-yuan, was abruptly upset, 11-9 in the 7^th, by World #95 Andrei Filimon. The Romanian then in turn was ousted in 7 by “sleeper” qualifier, Japan’s 15-year-old lefty sensation Jun Mizutani whose smooth, seemingly effortless strokes remind me of the teenage Erwin Klein.

In a blow to the 2007 World’s host, Croatia, the popular Zoran Primorac, an aging 36 but still World #24, couldn’t get through ultra-steady Greek defender Panagiotis Gionis who, though ranked #101, also went 7 games with Spain’s World #63 He Zhi Wen. He, a 42-year-old ethnic Chinese who’d been living in Spain for at least a decade, showed great perseverance in being able to topspin away Gionis in the 7th, winning, after being 3-0 down, 11 of the last 12 points.

Earlier, He, on being behind 3-1 in games, as well as 3-2 and 6-4 down in the 6^th (whereupon, he won 7 straight), had caused quite a stir by eliminating Defending Champion 32-year-old Werner Schlager, winning an unimaginable 18 of the last 19 points, losing only to a net ball. The Austrian, who felt he did the best he could under the circumstances (can that be true?), was severely critical of the playing conditions. He (Schlager) said, He’s “serve often went longer than expected because of the windy air-conditioning.” Also, Werner complained that the ball “was too soft,” that it “floated everywhere.” “I was not playing table tennis,” he said, “but beach table tennis.” Wang Liqin maintained that the problem wasn’t the ball but the air-conditioning. “I feel the wind,” he said, “and it is no good for lobs and long rallies.” Later, reportedly, only in the absence of matches was the air-conditioning turned on.

He, having practiced only about an hour a day for the last 3 weeks, said he plays “for fun” (at the General Club, said to be the best in Spain) while making a living, as he told one reporter, running a clothing store with his wife. Turns out, however, though many seemed never to have heard of him, that 22 years ago, as a member of the 1983 Chinese National team, he’d paired with future World Champion Jiang Jialiang to take a bronze in Doubles, that later he’d beaten Samsonov and Jean-Michel Saive, and that just 8 years ago was a World singles quarterfinalist. Understandably, he gave Swedish veteran Peter Karlsson, now almost 36, a 7-game scare. At 5-all in the 1^st, He served into the table edge, but it high-bounced into Karlsson’s court, and, as the spectators laughed, the Swede pulverized it. Down 2-1 in games, but up 6-5 in the 4^th, He was again careless, served off, went down 7-6…then scored 5 straight to even the match. In this Shanghai Stage Arena that generally has an audience of 10-12,000 spectators, Peter had a rooting section of about 8 boxed-together Swedes. As they cheered as lustily as they could, He (“CHIN-a! CHIN-a!”) went ahead 3-2. But in the 6^th, Karlsson, up 9-4…9-7 called Time, regrouped, and 11-7 moved into the deciding 7^th. There He, down 7-4, called Time, and now he regrouped, pulling to 7-all before Peter looped in a gutsy backhand. At 9-all it was anybody’s match? Nope. Karlsson had the serve and took the last two points. 

Before losing to current European Champion Vladimir Samsonov, Norway’s Geir Erlandsen had a 4-3 win over Korea’s Choi Hyun Jin. Samsonov then went on to meet the one and only Jan-Ove Waldner, Sweden’s Olympic and 2-time World Champion. Despite having taken out Timo Boll and Ma Lin at the 2004 Olympics, the legendary “J.O.,” nearing 40, was not given much chance to beat Vladi—and, indeed, down 0-6 in the 1^st looked outclassed. But, though he was slow to start (he’d played his first two singles matches in the Annex), Waldner was, well, Waldner, and strongly contested the 2^nd game. At 8-all Samsonov got an edge, and afterwards “Old Wa” or “Uncle Wa,” as the local papers said the admiring Chinese affectionately called Waldner, just couldn’t capitalize on his chances, finally going down 15-13. Then, still fighting in the 3^rd, deucing it after being behind 8-10, he again couldn’t score, and finally succumbed in straight games.

At the Press Conference afterwards, Waldner, who 27 years ago had come to Shanghai to train, announced his retirement, not from table tennis, but from the Swedish Team. Next season it’ll be League play in Germany and afterwards, who knows, maybe even in China. Also, it’s possible he’ll play in some low-level tournaments, for, says J. O., he is still “deeply in love” with table tennis. And with good reason. The Program Profile on him emphasized his daring play, and said that, “Neither Europeans nor Chinese…can match Waldner in composure, adaptability and tactics consciousness.”

Waldner warned that World #4 Samsonov would have to play better in his 8ths match than he did against him, so let’s see who Vladi’s to meet. Hungary’s Ferenc Pazsy prevailed in 7 over Romania’s Constantin Cioti, but then Pazsy fell to Russia’s World #15 Alexei Smirnov. Coming out to meet Smirnov, the 2005 European Top 12 winner, was Korea’s World #25 Oh Sang Eun, a two-wing attacker whose shot selection was said to be suspect. It looked like the Russian, up 3-0 in games, would take Oh with ease, but, strange, he just gradually lost energy, lost the will to compete, and Oh advanced to meet Samsonov.

Danny Seemiller, who was doing 7 hours of TV match-commentary work for the ITTF, remarked that both Oh and Samsonov were counter-loopers, didn’t like to play one another or anyone with that mirroring style—so maybe one or both of them wouldn’t be up for a good match? In the 1^st, Oh opens with 6 straight points, wins it at 3. Wins the 2^nd too as Samsonov, a notoriously slow starter, keeps shaking his head. After the Korean’s up 3-1 and 5-2 in the 5^th, Vladi calls Time. Soon, missing a loop, he throws out his hands in mild exasperation. Just mild, mind you, for, down 7-5, he fist-shakes his way to a 10-7, 10-9 advantage, at which point Oh serves, follows, and Samsonov counters to win the game. He takes the next one too. In the 7^th, at 5-all, they play a marvelous exchange of curving counters that gives Oh the lead. When the Korean increases it to 7-5, the view-screen above gives us a close-up of Vladi’s lips moving. Down 9-7, but with the serve, Samsonov is uncharacteristically passive—and Oh smacks him in the middle. At the end, Oh has Vladi lobbing and soon curls one by him for the match.

On the other side of the Draw, the Ukraine’s Aleksandr Didukh, down 3-1, rallied to upset Slovenia’s World #57 Bojan Tokic, then fell to Hong Kong’s World #87 Cheung Yuk. How Cheung then forced World #3 Wang Hao into the 7th I dare not speculate. Meantime, Herzegovina’s Roko Tosic, coming off a 15-13 in the 7^th win over Taipei’s Chang Yen-Shu, was beaten by Denmark’s World #19 Michael Maze who, with shaved head (and he had such gorgeous hair, someone said), 4-0 scalped Bulgaria’s Feng Zhe. That led the 23-year-old Dane, the 2004 European Top 12 winner, to Athens’ Olympic silver medallist Wang Hao, whom, with some sensational lobbing to the back court’s white line, he shut out (amazingly?) 9, 6, 10, 13. Wang explained that though the Chinese had studied Maze’s play, they hadn’t realized he was such a good lobber. “I was so anxious,” said Wang, “that I missed a lot of easy kills.” Maze may well have used the lob more as a weapon than a shield, but I don’t believe for a minute he caught the Chinese analysts by surprise.

And who will find his way out of the lower labyrinth to reach Maze in the quarter’s? It wouldn’t be the World Men’s Singles runner-up in Paris, Joo Se Hyuk, for reportedly he had (sponsor/money?) problems with his Korean Association and so wasn’t even entered here. And, stunningly, it wouldn’t be the 2004 Olympic Champion, Korea’s World #6, Ryu Seung Min. This exciting, wristy penholder, the 2004 U.S. Open winner, was upset in 7 in the 2^nd round by World #50 Danny Heister of the Netherlands who, like his teammate Trinko Keen, was described as a “looping machine,” and whom our National Umpire Saul Weinstein noted, depressingly, took advantage of one hidden serve after another. Ryu’s loss left China’s Hao Shuai (underrated at World #28—he beat Heister 4-zip) to meet, presumably, Greece’s colorful Kalinikos Kreanga.

But the World #10’s section of play was a maze of uncertainty. A nervous Kreanga (taking hurried little steps this way and that, bouncing, bouncing the ball, twirling his racket) 11-9 in the 7^th barely survived his 1^st-round match with Argentina’s tireless defender and crack forehand attacker, World #90 Liu Song (whose teammate Pablo Tabachnik in the Qualifier had 7-game knocked out our David Zhuang).

Then, after the excitable Damien Eloi had stopped Japan’s upcoming Seiya Kishikawa in 7, Kreanga, looking the more earnest and intense in tightened headband, took him on, France’s World #42, and, still nervous and far from his best, could easily, make that uneasily, have lost this match, for he was down 2-1 and at 14-all in the 4^th before finally struggling through bracketed 11-9 wins in the 1^st and 6th to advance. Nor after France’s World #70 Christophe Legout had slipped by the inspired Czech Radek Kostal, and had then upset Hong Kong’s World #20 Leung Chu-Yan, both in 7, could Kreanga relax against him. Again he could have (-8, 10, -7, 15, 7, 8) lost this match in 4, instead of winning in 6. Kreanga’s shaky play finally caught up with him against Hao Shuai, for (-11, 10, -9, -9, 8, -4) though again he might have lost in 4, he did lose in 6.

The final quarter’s would find European hope, Germany’s World #5 Timo Boll, advancing to the 8^th’s. Timo had a comfortable win over Canada’s World #51 Johnny Huang (next to our Cheng Yinghua perhaps the oldest player competing), after Johnny had 4-3 eliminated Herzegovina’s Jiang Weizhong—one of the increasingly many Chinese overseas players attaching themselves to country after country. Fourteen years ago Jorgen Persson won the World Championship—after Boll retired him 4-2 here in the 16ths, the famous Swede, just turned 39, made his retirement permanent.

Denmark’s World #85 Martin Monrad, who’d eliminated our 2-time National Champion Ilija “Lupi” Lupulesku, 11-9 in the 7^th, was beaten by China’s World #18 Liu Guozheng. Liu, the 2001 U.S. Open Champion, then downed Serbia’s World #55 Slobodan Grujic to reach Boll. The tournament Program prophetically reminds us (1) that in 2001 Liu, with his “strong nerves,” is to be remembered for “saving seven match points” against Korea’s Kim Taek Soo (now not a player but a coach here) in a dramatic, all-deciding semi’s match that allowed China to beat Korea in the Team Championship; and (2) that, good as Boll is (in Jan., 2003 he was World #1), “his weakness is his conservative tendency during crucial moments.”

Wow, that couldn’t be more on the money, for, up 8-3 in the 7^th, Boll suddenly went south, losing along the way two key momentum points on his own serve, causing the cheering crowd to go “bombastic.” But after choking (is it fair to say?), Timo again got it together, only to “CHIN-a! CHIN-a!” ultimately lose 15-13.

That left Liu to play…who? The 2003 U.S. Open Champ, Aleksandar Karakasevic, World #53? Afraid not—for, though our U.S. Killerspin star beat Italian veteran Massimiliano Mondello in 7, he couldn’t withstand the Polska attack of Top 30 player Lucian Blaszczyk. Nor, though he scored a remarkable (-9, -7, -9, 5, 8, 12, 10) come-from-behind upset over Jean-Michel Saive, World #11, could Germany’s World #52 Bastian Steger win the key 7^th from Blaszczyk. So how then did the Pole, 3-times nominated for Most Popular Sportsman of the Year in Poland, get blasted in his 8ths? Ask China’s perennial World Cup winner Ma Lin who, though losing three deuce games to the Czech Republic’s Petr Korbel, didn’t lose another by any score. This includes the last game in which he was down 7-3 when Chinese coach Liu Guoliang, fond of “tactics,” got red-carded for signaling the second time, and, causing some disruption, had to leave the environs of the court. Ma—who, make a note of it, doesn’t like orange juice or carrots—then moved on to blank Blaszczyk.

Quarterfinals

O.K., the quarter’s—4 Chinese, 4 non-Chinese: makes it more interesting, yes? Of course Wang Liqin vs. Chen Qi would assure at least one Chinese in the semi’s. Editor Larry Hodges, watching this match with me, pronounced Chen as having the fastest step-around forehand in the world, and I, too, was open-eyed at his footwork, and his willingness to counter-loop forehand to forehand with the powerful Wang. Of course both players had to know instinctively where the high-speed balls were going, and were ready—except Chen, up 1-0 and 10-8 in the 2^nd, played 4 very weak points that allowed Wang to even the match. When in the 3^rd Wang led 6-1 he’d won 10 of the last 11 points. What happened? For in the 4^th Chen early got off a barrage of fantastic attacking points and looked absolutely unbeatable. In the 5^th, Wang up 9-8 watches Chen whiff a ball to his forehand; up 10-9 he calls Time, after which Chen serves, follows, misses. The 6^th and final game is no contest: down 10-3, Chen finishes with a give-up shot.

As Karlsson prepares to play Oh, he’s out there on court appearing to question self as to either the bright lights above (they give lobbers an advantage?) or whether the air conditioning is off or perhaps slightly on. But they quickly go to it with Oh drawing first blood. In the 2^nd, at 9-all Oh serves, follows, goes ad up…at 10-all Karlsson rifles in a backhand…at 11-all Oh serves and Karlsson scores with a beautiful flip, then wins the next point to 1-1 draw even. Apparently the air-conditioning isn’t on now: Karlsson, all sweaty, towels off himself, his racket handle, and will periodically continue to do so. In the 3^rd, with Oh up 6-4, Karlsson loses 4 quick points and the game. In the 4^th, down 6-2, the Swede makes a fabulous counter-loop up and around from under the table, but then Oh has his moment: up 8-3, he stretches his tall frame to bring a ball up from the floor not far from the net and Karlsson misjudges the spin. Oh’s up 3-1.

“BEyughEEP! BEyughEEP!” Somebody’s blowing loudly on some awful musical instrument. For days I’d hear it. The crowd, as usual, likes it, wants to make noise and does. With slender two-foot long somethings (tight white balloons?), one in each hand, they clap or club the two together in rhythm to their grating horn lead. Karlsson seems the better for it—goes up 6-0…cuts Oh’s game lead. In the 6^th, at 7-all, after some of the better counter-play in the match, Oh fails to return serve, but then Karlsson misses an opportunity, doesn’t win a point he should, then fails to return serve…and goes 10-8 double match-point down. He serves, follows, scores. But in the end loses out in forehand counter-play. It’s enough to make him want to retire with Waldner and Persson?

World #2 Ma Lin, with his powerful resume of firsts, particularly in Doubles, figured to be the iconic choice of Chinese officialdom, if such choices were still made, to beat World #18 Liu Guozheng—and he did, 4-2 (after going down 2-1), 11-9 in the 6^th, lobbing from the barriers to win the point, game, and match.

Ah, and now it’s the amazin’ Maze again. He’d announced at a Press Conference after beating Wang Hao, “I always believe I can win—if you don’t believe you can win, you’d better go back home and sleep.” But he’s bound to have a let down, isn’t he? Or perhaps 21-year-old Hao Shuai, runner-up in the 2003 Pro Tour Finals, who wins the 1^st 11-4, is just too good? In the 2^nd, for a moment it’s watch Maze’s play-a point capabilities: after some thrilling gets and counters, he retreats to lobbing and wins the long point. Helped by a mis-serve on Hao’s part, Maze goes 8-5 up, but on losing a point he goes to retrieve a ball and, an old ploy, he accidentally kicks it further away. What does that kick mean? That he’s having trouble mentally preparing to play points? Maybe. Because from 8-5 up he goes 11-8 down. In the 3^rd, it’s more of the whirlpool-spiraling same: from 5-2 up, Maze loses 11-6. When he’s 7-3 down in the 4^th, it’s all over, isn’t it?…

But, unbelievably, comes next day’s Shanghai Daily’s lead: “Maze Performs the Houdini.” That 4^th game, he was down 10-7, triple match-point. Then scored with a forehand to get to 8…scrambled defensively to get to 9…and, on returning a high ball, down now on his knees, watched Hao as in a dream somehow not put the ball on the table but into the net. After winning two more points to stay alive, the Dane 7, 9, 6, and roaring in exultation, completed his astonishing recovery, exciting Danny Seemiller to enthuse, “Of all the matches I’ve ever seen, this one is #1!”

Semifinals

In the one semi’s, Maze, whom the Chinese spectators have been sporting and respectful to even as he beat their own, immediately falls behind in the 1st 5-0. But then, as if to insist he really isn’t the least bit intimidated by Ma Lin’s proven prowess, he ties it up at 6-all and draws the repeated roar of “CHIN-a! CHIN-a!” However, from there he loses 11-7. The 2^nd is something of a replay: from 6-all, Ma is apt to fan himself with his racket and to use it not only for his penhold forehand attack but in tactical sidespin blocks and, taking away one of the Dane’s strengths, quick drops of lobs. Down 10-6, Maze rounds the table, has to be called back. He hasn’t lost yet…. But it’s just a question of time as Ma Lin sets up forehands and zings them in. In the 4^th, as if to show he has many ways of winning points, he scores, it would seem playfully, ironically, by lobbing. But Maze, down 7-2, battles into the (“Ma Lin! Ma Lin!”) end game. Ma sweeps the match with a final stretch counter, then turns to the crowd, throws up his hands, and gets a standing ovation.

In the other semi’s, just before play, Oh takes off his watch, leaves it with his bench belongings. In a long ago era such Expedite encumbrances might have been helpful, not now. Oh loses the 1^st 11-7. There’s a small Korean contingent not too far off court but they’re apt to cheer when Oh’s ahead, which is precisely when the “CHIN-a!” calls to action are loudest. In the middle of hundreds of shouting Chinese there’s one lone rooter who’s holding up a Korean flag-banner. Who would think one person among so many could make such a noticeable difference? In the 2^nd at 9-all Wang serves into the net, then socks in a forehand. The view-screen shows him talking to self. Whatever he said must have been good advice—he takes a 2-0 lead. Then goes up 10-1 in the 3^rd. He’s just too strong. Oh with a 5-1 lead in the 4^th hangs on to win at 9. But with a 3-1 lead in the 5th can manage only 2 more points.

Final

The Wang Liqin-Ma Lin 5-game match for the Volkswagen convertible was a near replay of both their Pro Tour Grand Final in Dec. and their Qatar Open final in Feb. On both occasions Wang won 4-1. Their match here, won by Wang 4-2, was, as someone put it, “pure theater.” Sometimes Ma looked soft, was vulnerable on his wide forehand, and yet he had a 17-3 run. Moreover, on one occasion, I never saw such an extended point in my life. Every forehand looked to be a sure winner…4…5...6…or more exchanged, but none of them were winners. “I don’t believe this,” says a guy next to me.”

Wang’s gonna have a fleet of Volkswagens, but so what if at 26 he hasn’t learned to drive, he can take lessons or hire a full-time chauffeur. Word was, “It’s not rare for an average Chinese national player to make an annual income of 1 million yuan (U.S. $125,000) from playing in the domestic league alone, not to mention the extra gains from endorsements.”

Parents, send your kindergarten kids to China.