2009 Yokohama World Championships
MEN’S PLAY (Unabridged Version)

            By Tim Boggan

            The Chinese are not happy—their TV people. Why? Because the great European hope, Germany’s Timo Boll (World # 4), who’d been having a hot streak on the circuit, has last-minute pulled out of this Yokohama World’s with a painful “lumbar column” back problem. (“I cannot play with half my force,” he announced). That leaves, if China is to have the wanted non-Asian competition, three-time European Champion Belarus’s Vladimir Samsonov (#6)—and we’ll soon see what happens to him. Europe’s best that follows—Greece’s Kalinikos Kreanga (#13) and Austria’s 2003 World Champion Werner Schlager (#14)—won’t be here either. The colorful Greek, long a spectator favorite, is apparently injured (though, unpredictable as he is, a rumor swirled round he had a racket problem), and Schlager was reported as saying “he wanted to spend time with his family after his partner had a baby in February.” So among the top 25 that leaves Sweden’s 1991 World Champion Jorgen Persson (age 43) and Croatia’s Zoran Primorac (age 39); also Germany’s young Dimitrij (“Dino”) Ovtcharov (#17) and Denmark’s not-so-young 2004 European Top 12 winner Michael Maze (#18). Of course there are powerful South Korean and Chinese Hong Kong players that contribute to the Asian domination. But, given China’s accumulated strength, it’s mostly a question of, How far can any underdog hopeful advance?

Best of the Qualifiers
            To begin with, however, it’s a success for many players if they can just get through the Qualifying rounds to reach the128-strong first round proper. As with the women, there are beginning round robins (three players in each, placed to give the higher ranking of the three an advantage), followed by two K.O. rounds (the women have only one)—so that for the 32 advancing (out of  the 220 who try to), four wins, or, if Byed, at least three, are needed. Then of course, like the 32 direct entries (have to be at least World #158 to be one of those), they’re not protected, as are initially 32 others, from drawing one of the 32 seeds.
            Were “Give-It-The-Old-College Try” medals handed out, I’d award them to those most challenged who weren’t knocked out in the advanced K.O. matches but who failed to survive their first-round matches. Greece’s Konstantinos Papageorgeiou (#164) 12-10 in the seventh downed India’s Pathik Mehta (#398), victor in the earlier round robin (with net/edge luck on his side) over our Shao Yu (#476). Austria’s Bernhard Presslmayer (#170), after early eliminating the U.S.’s Samson Dubina (#922), won in seven over Venezuela’s Henry Mujica (#416) who’d survived Norway’s Espen Ronneberg (#504), 13-11 in the seventh. Mexico’s Marcos Madrid (#361) came through, but had to go the limit with both Venezuela’s Jonathan Pino (#421) and Belgium’s Martin Bratanov (#171).
            Iran’s Mehran Ahadi (#318) just got by Belgium’s Yannick Vostes (#208), 12-10 in the seventh. Latvia’s Matiss Burgis (#210) was extended into the seventh by Denmark’s Kasper Sternberg (#311). Likewise Belgium’s Benjamin Rogiers (#305) who eliminated the field’s second-oldest competitor, our 50-year-old Cheng Yinghua (#218), after Cheng had stubbornly, proudly won the 5th and 6th games 11-9. And in two very even-rated seven-game match-ups, it was Chinese Taipei’s Chen Chien-An (#239) over Vietnam’s Nguyen Nam Hai (#273), and the Czech Republic’s Jakub Kleprlik (#262) over Bosnia-Herzegovina’s Srdan Milicevic (#253).
            The following players also failed to survive their first-round matches but won “Honorable Mention.” The Czech Antonin Gavlas (#179) was up 3-2 in games over Chinese Hong Kong’s Jiang Tianyl (#20)—that would have been quite an upset. Argentina’s Gaston Diego Alto (#347) went seven with Brazil’s Thiago Monteiro (#70).  Iran’s Mohammadreza Akhlaghpasano, at 12-all in the sixth, might have thought China super-star Chen Qi (#7) was considering dumping, but most aficionados felt China was no longer practicing “Friendship First, Competition Second.”
            Regarding the “Best Advance” awards, I’d give First Prize to South Korea’s Seo Hyun Dook (#268), not so much for downing our six-time National Champion David Zhuang (#243) but for two stunning wins—over Sweden’s Par Gerell (#59) and Chinese Taipei’s Chiang Peng-Lung (#36), 10 years ago our U.S. Open Champion. Austria’s Stefan Fegerl, on slipping by India’s Subhajit Saha (#264), 11-9 in the seventh, went on to oust Romania’s Adrian Crisan (#32), also 11-9 in the seventh. Thailand’s Phuchong Sanguansin (#198) surprised Singapore’s Yang Zi (#42). Japan’s 14-year-old left-handed sensation Koki Niwa (with a “sleeper’s” rating of #426), beat the Czech Republic’s Josef Simoncik (#183), then, given an adrenalin-rush by his supportive fans, was wide-awake to a bigger upset—over the Argentine veteran Liu Song (#71). Slovakia’s hefty Erik Illas (#232), who plays Second Division in the Bundesliga, battered Chinese Taipei’s Wu Chih-Chi (#92).
            Iceland’s Gudmundur Stephensen upset Italy’s Mjhai Bobocica (#88), but first he disposed of Belarus’s Pavel Platonou (#332) who’d had to struggle to best our Tim Wang, 8, 4, -9, 9 (from 10-6 up), -11, 8. Before the World’s, with father Sam’s unstinting support, Tim had spent a month practicing here in Yokohama, and after the World’s was going to China for training. Platonou—the name was a bete noire for U.S. players. The Belarussian paired with Viktoria Pavlovich to knock out our David Zhuang/Ariel Hsing in six in the Mixed after the U.S. pair had won a 15-13 fifth game. And the Platinou/Aleksandr Kuchuk duo prevented David and Shao Yu from getting to the first round of the Men’s Doubles. Earlier, in the U.S. pair’s first K.O match against Konstantin Parapanov/Teodor Yordanov, the Bulgarian coach, on being yellow-carded, immediately reached into his pocket and held up a red card to the umpire. If seen by her, this gesture like an obscenity was ignored.
             Shao and Jasna Reed, and Samson and Crystal Huang were also beaten in the first round of the Mixed. Samson and Tim were amused when in an early qualifying match in the Men’s Doubles they had to wait while their Turkmenistan opponents, unable to play in the same color shirts as our players, had to go out and buy new ones. The one big guy got the largest shirt possible, but the umpire said that unless he could tuck it in he couldn’t play. Everybody held their breath and, quick, he was ready. Except his number was pinned to his shirt with only three pins; unless he found a fourth one he couldn’t play. He did, and in the first of the three games played, the Turks got one point. Hardly seemed worthwhile, huh?
            Samson and Tim didn’t go on to reach the first round of the Doubles, though—they were k.o.’d by the strong young Japanese team of Kenta Matsudaira/Koki Niwa. However, their time on court had to have been quite an experience, for they played midst purple pandemonium. Cheerleaders led a swath of hundreds of purple-clad spectators, wildly balloon-bashing and applauding after every winning Japanese point, to noisily drum out a rapid rhythmic beat. “It’s just so different playing a match out there than practicing,” said Samson—as if the realization had suddenly hit him how much longer he would have to play, and play of course the right way, to show considerable world-class improvement.
  
Best Matches to Round of 64
            Yes, I know, we’ve gotten through 230 ethnically very diverse players—it really is, at least in the beginning, a WORLD Championship—but I’ve mentioned only one entry from China. Be patient—they’re still seven-strong in the Singles, they’ll turn up.
            Japan’s Kaii Yoshida (#37) had to rally from down 3-2 and at 10-all to escape France’s Emmanuel Lebesson (#123). India’s #1 Sharath Kamal Achanta (#85) 12-10 in the sixth stopped Norway’s Wang Jianfeng (#95). Germany’s Ovtcharov, unexpectedly pressed by the Ukraine’s Kou Lei (#155), also won 12-10 in the sixth. Some jump in the rankings Ovtcharov had made—in Nov., 2006 he was #107; in Nov., 2007 #19.           Belgium’s Jean-Michel Saive, playing in his 18th straight World’s—he was Singles runner-up in Gothenburg in 1993, is now #43—still had enough juice at 39 to win in seven following a clutch 12-10 sixth over Egypt’s Ahmed Ali Saleh (#120). ITTF Athletes’ Commission Chair Zoran Primorac went Saive one better when, down 3-0 against the English #1 Paul Drinkhall, he ran out the match, climaxing his rally with a very satisfying 11-9 win in the seventh. Naturally, as one might deduce from the ITTF and Japanese flags hanging side by side from the arena rafters, there were a lot of ITTF Committee Meetings at this World Championship. I remember asking one fellow what his impressions of the tournament were. “I’ve only been here four or five days,” he said—“haven’t seen any of it yet.”
            Japan’s 20-year-old Kenji Matsudaira (#139), glued at two games each with Russia’s Feder Kuzmin (#49), 13-11, 16-14 broke free to upset-advance—only to fall in five to China’s three-time World Champion Wang Liquin. Sweden’s Robert Svensson (#111) won a 12-10 in the seventh thriller from Romania’s Constantin Cioti (#80), then was blitzed by his doubles partner Persson. South Korea’s O Romanized to Oh Sang Eun (#12) had a -10, 11, -11 shaky start to a six-game win over Slovakia’s Pistej Lubomir (#116).
            Lubomir and Eva Odorova (#94) created quite a stir in the Mixed. They upset the #2 seeds, South Korea’s Joo Se Hyuk/Park Mi Young. Then went on, much to the crowd’s disappointment, to eliminate Japan’s #1 pair, Mizutani/Sayaka Hirano who’d won out in seven over teammates Seiya Kishikawa/Kasumi Ishikawa (of course in deference to rhyme or reason these two, Kishikawa and Ishikawa, had to play Doubles together). Ludomir/Odorova then became one of the two European teams (Germany’s twosome, Christian Seuss/Elke Schall, was the other) to reach the quarter’s by preventing China’s Zhang Chao/Yao Yan from doing so.

Round of 64
            The most surprising five-game upset in this second round or perhaps any other was South Korea’s World # 52 Kim Jung Hoon’s over World #6 Samsonov shorn of his past “VLAD-EE!”-strong support strength. Slovakia’s expatriate-German star, Thomas Keinath (#69), often seen at tournaments in the States (he was runner-up at our last U.S. Open), had a good win over the Czech Republic’s Petr Korbel (#41). Slovenia’s Bojan Tokic (#53) credited his pre-World’s three weeks practice at the National Training Center in Tokyo as helping him to down with remarkable ease South Korea’s 2004 Olympic Champion Ryu Seung Min (#11). Greece’s attack-defender Panagiotis Gionis (#50) scored a striking win over Chinese Taipei’s Chuang Chih-Yuan (#10)—that had to be worth some congratulatory smiles and high-fives. Croatia’s Andrej Gacina (#89) stopped Japan’s Yo Kan (#23) by prevailing in a 14-12 fourth game that had he lost it would have put him in a 3-1 hole. And Ma Lin, after being two games apiece with Spain’s Alfredo Carneros (#138) finished with more 2, 2 symmetry.
            Germany’s best hope in place of Boll, Ovtcharov, struggled again, needing six games to beat Japan’s young teenager Niwa. Primorac also advanced in six over Hungary’s Janos Jakab (#86) who I thought would have progressed more than he has. Hong Kong’s Tang Peng barely beat down Russian challenger Igor Rubtsov, 15-13 in the seventh. Japan’s Kenta Matsudaira (#101), 18, Kenji’s younger brother, oh, oh, oh eliminated the 32-year-old Oh in a surprise seven-game upset. Of course Kenta can play—he was the 2006 World Junior Champ. But the fact that Oh, the 2005 U.S. Open winner and a Beijing Olympics standout, hadn’t been competing in tournaments had to have been a factor in his loss. (Was his injured shoulder really “fine”?)  Portugal’s Tiago Apolonia (#96) had first-round experienced little difficulty with our current U.S. Open Champion, Austria’s Chen Weixing (#26)—but, precariously advancing 11-9 in the seventh, he caught Roko Tosic (#115) on a high after the Croatian had upset with remarkable ease the Dominican Republic’s Lin Ju (#46). Had Apolonia not been Apollonian enough to win those last three games Roko would have been toxic for him.

Round of 32
            Hong Kong’s Jiang, who’d almost lost in the first round, advanced to the quarter’s in a -6, 11, 10, -7, 7, -6, 9 stroke-strewn court-clash over Germany’s Christian Seuss (#27). When Kim Jung Hoon outlasted Zhang Chao (#40), that was one Chinese down. Gionis, every game hard-fought, defeated two-time Commonwealth Champion Achanta in six, yelled in triumph, hugged his coach, then on leaving the court reached into the stands to embrace a man I presume was his father. After upsetting Germany’s Bastian Steger (#39), this loss to Gionis was a tough one for Achanta (at 1-1, he mis-served to lose the important third 13-11). But since this handsome, athletic Indian, with a degree in finance, is ballyhooed as being enchanting to the ladies, you might one day find him more a savvy Bollywood star than a table tennis one. Down 11-10 match point to Maze, Gacina missed a hangar and batted the dumb ball two courts down.
            Still struggling but surviving, Ovtcharov, behind 3-1 to Chinese Hong Kong’s Ko Lai Chak, won a 12-10 fifth that gave him the impetus he needed to advance. Japan’s 19-year-old whiz Jun Mizutani, their 2008 and 2009 National Champion, stopped Persson in straight games, winning all three of the close ones, 11, 10, 9. No Swedish Vikings with horned helmets in the stands this year. Chen Qi was back, losing more games—this time in a marathon 9, 6. -9, -8, -10, 8, 9 battle with compatriot Xu Xin (#54). Sometimes Chen looks like a world-beater—he can hit low balls in so smoothly, yet so viciously. From seven-all in the seventh with Xu, he scores forehands as dramatically as he yells, goes up 10-7 triple match point. Then, helped by a ticked net, Xu’s at 10-8. And now Chen serves and follows with a loop that’s ridiculously long—so much so I can’t believe he’s tried to put it on the table. But then a moment later he’s yelling in triumph.  Kenta Matsudaira became the third Japanese to advance, and on paper the most underrated one, when he defeated Austria’s Robert Gardos (#30).

Round of 16
            Wang Hao, zipped 2-0 by Jiang Tianyl, unzipped with 1-2-3-4 full-force recoveries. Japan’s fiery Yoshida also won in six, often passing the barrel-chested Kim Jung Hoon on his far forehand. Kim had mis-served to end the second game, and after he did it again to end the final sixth (!), Yoshida, matching the announcer matching the fans’ excitement, couldn’t be more pumped—hands in air, he jumps, jumps, jumps, exuberant in victory, then waves to his supportive spectators. Maze, continuing to take advantage of a good draw (he’d downed #110, #107, #89, and #50) had little trouble with Gionis. Ma Long, at the forehand-ready when Ovtcharov disentangled his unique serve motion, absolutely brutalized the German in five, winning games at 2, 2, 4, and 8 (the last when “Dino,” down match point, has a sure “sitter,” only to see Ma’s high ball hit the back edge). I’d read where Ovtcharov, who’d gone seven with Ma in the final of the 2009 Danish Open, had said, “It’s not bad at times to lose an important match. It makes you think more, it makes you work even harder.” So he’ll have to get to it, eh?
            2003 World Runner-up Joo Se Hyuk, up 3-1, looked to be the winner against Hong Kong’s Cheung Yuk (#16), and when Cheung couldn’t continue (because of a something-snap in his stomach?) that, unsettlingly, settled the matter. Wang Liqin had not been impressive in his last match with France’s Adrien Mattenet (book-ending 11-5 games with four in which he was pointedly outplayed 41-36). Now he looked very 15-13-in-the-sixth shaky against Tang Peng. No chance for the thought-dangerous Mizutani against Chen Qi who suddenly stopped losing games. Still, on leaving the court the young Japanese, repeatedly bowing his head respectfully, received quite an ovation.
            Nor is that the last we or a delirious audience of thousands will see of him, for with his partner Kishikawa, the two will win four Doubles matches, including one with a perilous -10, 10, 9 start against the Brazilians Thiago Monteiro/Gustavo Tsuboi, followed by the piece de resistance, a 13-11-in-the-sixth quarter’s match over the strong Singapore team of Gao Ning/Yang Zhi. (Each day as I entered my Press section of the Arena, I was greeted by a woman who requested I wash my hands with the provided anti-bacterial liquid soap. No anti-virus face mask needed though, though for next week’s Sumo tournament the Japan Sumo Association will hand out hundreds of these masks to the wrestlers and their families and friends. On my way to the entrance I’d pass by an outside line of autograph seekers, young and old, hoping to get the Japanese stars’ attention, or, in lieu of that, the autograph of anyone in a jump suit, the Singaporians of course included.)
             Now, inside, Mizutani/Kishikawa were either losing games against the Singaporian pair or, fists up in tandem, clobbering them, as in the fifth to take a 3-2 lead. Late in the sixth game, Mizutani thought his return hit the edge, not the side. But though the umpires were against it (why?), Mizutani insistently pointed to the screen above for a replay, which of course the audience wanted  to see too. The replay drew some controversy, but the point, most thought correctly, was awarded to Gao/Yang. Later, up 12-11 in the sixth, Mizutani/Kishikawa went to their coach while the umpire put this little clock on the table that showed in blood red the seconds ticking away. A tense Time, yes? But then it was over. The audience’s joy was ballooning, the announcer was screaming, photographers were scurrying to get shots that were historic, the young Japanese were smiling and hugging each other, and with their victory walk to the exit close-up flashbulbs lit up their faces. They had become the first men to win a World Championship (bronze) medal for their country in 12 years.
            Scene shifts now to another big match for the Japanese spectators—Olympic Champ Ma Lin led Kenta Matsudaira three games to one, then was outscored the last three, yet just hung on to win 11-9 in the seventh. First game: Ma, who repeatedly throws the ball backward (umpires don’t know what exactly “near vertically” means and so if the opponent isn’t complaining leave well enough alone?) gives the appreciative audience a great mid-game lob point. Down 10-8, Matsudaira fearlessly off-the-bounce scores, but then fails to return serve. Second game: I’m impressed by Ma’s defensive slice-return finesse. Third game: Ma’s at 3-all…then down 9-4 he slaps nonsensically at Kenta’s serve, loses 11-4. Fourth: Ma’s run-around-the-forehand play has to be tiring, but his attack continues and he ekes out the game, 13-11. Fifth: Ma shows, like Chen Qi, he can drop shot…but loses this game 11-8. Sixth: Ma, trying to exploit his attack forehand, is getting pinned out of position and forced back to lob, is 6-1 down, but still fighting loses at 8. Seventh: it starts like the sixth—Ma’s 4-1 down and (getting tired?) needs a time out. He draws to 5-all, 7-all. And now even the most passionate Japanese rooters have to admire how Ma rises to the occasion—he serves, follows, scores: 8-7; he serves, follows, scores: 9-7; and then, grunting through multiple counter-play, 10-7. Now it’s as if he waits passively for Matsudaira to give him the match, but when Kenta doesn’t collapse, Ma again serves, follows, and scores. “What a good head he has,” I say to someone. “Yeah,” he says, “they can’t take that away from him.” (What, I wondered, did he mean, imply?)

Quarter’s
            Yoshida, the last Japanese Singles hope, went down in five to Wang Hao, alas, docilely at the end, 11-3, 11-4. He’s often jammed as he tries to hit forehands from his backhand side and is vulnerable on his wide forehand. On losing, Yoshida bows to the audience, and as he makes his way down the exit aisle he shakes hand after hand and signs some autographs. Maze 10, 11, 7, 9 strongly contested against Ma Long, but couldn’t finish. This match was marred by an International Umpire’s arrogance. Forget it, if you can, that Maze, up game point in the first, is suddenly faulted for not throwing the ball up high enough. In the second, which Maze will lose13-11, this umpire thought Maze was stalling on his serve, admonished him, and when he explained he couldn’t serve because Ma obviously wasn’t ready, she yellow-carded him. I am so sick of umpires subjectively intruding themselves into matches, I hope an evaluator saw this and took action. I’m reminded of President Obama’s comment when asked who he was going to pick for the Supreme Court: “I will seek someone who understands that justice isn’t about some abstract legal theory or footnote in a casebook. It is also about how our laws affect the daily realities of people’s lives.” After the match Maze reportedly told this umpire, “You’re destroying the Game!”
            Time now for another Chinese to lose—there were only four semi’s spots. Wang Liqin, down 3-2, rallied to overcome Chen Qi. Both made a lot of noise—Wang roaring after every winning point; Chen grunting on stroking ball after ball. Finally Wang looped the closer into an open table. It was the 17th time in their last 18 matches that Wang has beaten Chen. Against Joo Se Hyuk, Ma Lin began by 9-1 just casually pulverizing the South Korean’s returns. Easiest thing in the World’s. Just aim again and again to Joo’s backhand, wind up and swing uninhibitedly for the point. In the second, Ma’s up 8-1. Ho-hum—since Ju beat him in the 2003 World’s, Ma has won seven of their last eight encounters. But then in the third there’s a strange turnabout, defender Joo’s the attacker, is winning points by countering, sometimes forcing Ma to lob. Up 10-9 in the third, Ma’s got Joo back from the table, elects to drop shot—but Joo, anticipating the telegraphed drop, dashes in and backhands in a clean winner. On losing that game, Ma’s respectful of Joo’s ability to forehand counter—in the fourth, he’s not giving him much chance to do that. Joo whiffs a 10-8 point to go down 3-1. In the fifth, Ma’s trying drop shots repeatedly…and ineffectively. The sixth, won by Ma, is a badly-played game by both, as if neither player knew what he was trying to do, reminding me that both the Chinese and South Korean coaches had been yellow carded in this match.
            Defending Men’s Doubles Champ Ma Lin was not playing Doubles this year. The official line was that, in the interests of global development, it’d be wise to give others a chance at a title. So where did that leave Defending Men’s Doubles Champ Chen Qi? The winner. Only this time with Wang Hao. In the quarter’s they downed Oh/Ryu, 11-9 in the sixth (after Ryu had pushed the final shot into the net, Oh soccer-juggled the ball up and down on his feet—as if unconsciously wanting to substitute that balance in place of the imbalance that was being shown on the Citizen-sponsored viewing screen). Then in the semi’s, Chen/Wang defeated Zhang Jike/Hao Shuai, and in the final Ma Long/Xu Xin who’d stopped the Japanese.
            Wang Liqin and Guo Yue, Mixed winners the last two times out, weren’t Defending either. Which did give two players a title they probably otherwise never would have won. Congratulations to China’s Li Peng (#38) and Cao Zhen (#14).

Semi’s
            Ma Long had beaten two-time World Cup winner Wang Hao the last three times they’d played, most notably in the 2008 Pro Tour Grand Final where he’d blitzed him. But in this semi’s, though Ma was off to a 3-0 start, it was Wang’s game at the finish. Down 10-9, he spectacularly aced Ma’s serve, banged in a backhand, and roared out a 12-10 winner. In the second, Ma again was off to a 3-0 start, and again couldn’t hold the lead—at one point uncertain, or trying to execute a strategic shift, he appeared ready to receive Wang’s serve with his forehand, then moved to take it with his backhand. Up two games to none, and after a flip cross-court return for an ace to go 10-8 up in the third, Wang looked in control. It was he who’d blitz Ma. Then he lost four straight. And five more after that to open the fourth. But now Wang rallied, and got an assist from the umpire who said Ma hadn’t thrown his serve high enough. This stopped play momentarily while Ma obviously wanted to appeal the point penalty, but to who? As play continues, Ma is not happy—his 8-6 lead dissolves and he’s 10-8 down. Finally, there’s a long, long, long counter point which Wang wins—and jumps with joy. In the fifth, as in the other games, each accumulating point is precious. This couldn’t be more obvious in Wang’s 12-10 win in the fifth, and Ma’s brusque departure by the autograph seekers without giving them a look.
            An umpire told me that all the umpires had been requested not to talk to the media, to guys like me. Why? I asked him. He didn’t know--but I think I do. Midway in that fifth game, the players agree that a hand-up let should be called—a common practice, for a let is sometimes missed by the umpire who then agrees with the players. Only not this umpire who, when the players agreeably stop the point, insists on awarding it contrary to the players’ wishes. This subject had been brought up in the ITTF Rules Committee’s Report to the Federation’s Annual General Meeting held here in Yokohama: “Should both players or pairs be entitled to overrule an umpire’s decision by mutual agreement (2.9.1.1)?” So what’s the answer to this question?
            The players can play without an umpire, but the umpire can’t play without the players. Why continually allow ego-centered umpires to intrude on those actually playing the game? Primorac and his Athletes’ Commission ought to take that Women’s Forum “Player today, Leader tomorrow” seriously and find a leader to assert Players’ Rights. Of course, as ITTF Training and Education Director Mikael Anderson points out, the players not only have rights but duties. Dragged to a Press Conference after an important match, the loser is glum and non-verbal, while the winner generally says something absolutely inane like, “I have won the match. I am happy.”
            In their semi’s, Wang Liquin and Ma Lin will exchange games all the way into the final seventh. Wang of course has been World Champion three times, and Ma Lin World Runner-up three times, losing at the 2007 Zagreb World’s to Wang, but beating him at the Beijing Olympics. Think they know each other’s game? Since 1998 ITTF Statistician Jean-Jacques Huberman says they’ve competed against one another 34 times. As play starts, Ma handles Wang’s opening serve so beautifully, putting it precisely where Wang isn’t. But Ma’s strength—his runaround forehand—is also his weakness. Wang will be alert to putting balls to Ma’s far forehand, and in their high-risk play take his chances with his own forehand countering. Ma makes quick, powerful strikes, while Wang seems to bide his time and when the opportunity presents itself is in no hurry but smoothly loops in to Ma’s open forehand.
            After games are 2-2, Ma’s won 42 points, Wang 41. The fifth continues this dead-even play. When Ma crouches in a forehand exchange, I get the sense of him hitting tennis overheads. Down 10-8, Ma lasers one in. Down 10-9, he makes a great follow-up flip—only Wang sends it back so fast it forces a pop-up and Wang powers a forehand in that has to be the hardest hit ball in the tournament. You can literally feel the physical force of the players—they’re slugging at each other like boxers. All of Ma’s nervous mannerisms are showing—he rubs his racket, twirls it, waves it, hitches his shirt, wipes his face on a shirt sleeve, two shirt sleeves, makes guttural noises to self—but he seems to play the better for it, is securely up 9-3. In the seventh, Ma has taken to, has been forced into, lobbing—and he has the crowd gasping with delight as he curves one high-up ball after another in. But from six-all, Ma sends an all-out forehand into the bottom of the net; Wang scores on a step-around forehand; flips a winner into Ma’s face; gets the 10-6 quadruple match point, and takes 11-6 advantage of a bungled drop by Ma.
            I’d recently seen a photo of Ma biting his Olympic Gold Medal. Here he’d had another painful, difficult task, but could only (intent on fighting another day?) bite the bullet that had wounded him.

Final   
            Who do you like? Wang Hao (age 25) who’s lost five games en route to the final or Wang Liqin (age 30) who, hard-pressed his last three rounds, has lost 11? One thing is sure—you can hear “CHIN-A!”...CHIN-A!” cries from the Arena. This match is an anti-climax to the tournament. In the first, Hao is up 6-1, but Liquin draws to 9-10, then loses the game point….Doesn’t he? First he just stands there, hand on hip. Then he engages Hao in conversation, presumably questioning the last point. Though, as one wit said, what he was saying was, “What happened here? Didn’t you realize I was supposed to win the first game?”
            Actually, it appeared Wang Liqin wasn’t supposed to win any game—for he’s down 7-1 in the second….Then up 12-11. After which he does nothing but make passive returns and loses the game, 13-11. In the third, down 9-4, Liqin looks dispirited—or tired. He loses this one at five. And is about to lose the 4th at 5 too—or no? Down five match points, he somehow finds renewed energy, gets to 9-10 before succumbing.
            Years ago, a Chinese World Champion reportedly confided that, if as a representative of China, “You lose, the Chinese people will spit on you.” This was probably melodramatically said in regard not to Singles but to Team play. At any event, you don’t think Wang Liqin will be relegated to obscurity, do you? Antarctica…that’s where he told an interviewer he’d most like to travel to—probably to get away from all the autograph seekers, who as I left the Arena he was agreeably obliging.