In Memoriam

DAL-JOON (“D-J”) LEE (1939—2010)

            By USATT Historian Tim Boggan

            In paying homage to our six-time (1968-73) U.S. Men’s Champion D-J Lee, whom I didn’t know for roughly the first third of his life, I’m helped to a start-off point by Douglas S. Loomey’s article in the 1972 National Observer. He tells us that in South Korea “D-J’s parents were once wealthy—they ran a hotel and restaurant. Then the Korean War burst into their lives. Lee’s father, mother, and sister were victims of political assassination. A bomb reduced the once proud family business to ashes—and even the land wasn’t worth anything. In the streets of Seoul, 10-year-old Dal-Joon hustled, peddled sweet potatoes for a few pennies—which he’d spend on rice.”

            Somehow, as D-J began to come of age, he found table tennis, or it found him, and for three decades the sport became his life. He told writer Loomey that when he was in South Korea as the National Champion he used to practice eight hours a day, seven days a week. From this he learned the more how to work hard, make sacrifices. Now, he said, “before a U.S. Open, he’d practice five-six hours a day, and run two miles three times a week. Also, with his right playing arm he’d lift an eight-pound weight at least 200 times daily, and swing his racket 200 more times. D-J said he’d do all this more for mental rather than physical conditioning. It was a confidence builder: ‘I know I’m stronger and in better shape than my opponent, so I win.’”

            At the 1960 Bombay Asian Games, Lee defeated Japan’s former two-time World Champion Ichiro Ogimura in the Team event, then lost to him in the Singles after beating two other formidable Japanese, Nobuya Hoshino (World # 16) and Teruo Murakami (World #4).

            During 1964-65-66, D-J toured 58 countries giving exhibitions with four-time World Champion Richard Bergmann for the Harlem Globetrotters. Retiring from that, he had to make a living—so he began to sell wigs. Was doing that when he met Linda Williams of Columbus. They’d marry in 1967, and have a son Jeffrey.

            Playing in his first U.S. Open (1967), D-J (who’d once held a joint World #23 ranking) defeated Japan’s Hiroshi Takashima in the semi’s, but lost in the final to another Japanese, Manji Fukushima. In the ’63-’64 Asian Rankings, Takashima had been #1, Lee’s former Seoul clubmate (#1 to D-J’s #2) Jung-Kil (or Joong Gil) Park, #3 (in July, 1971, Park would settle in California), and Fukushima, #4.

.           After seeing Lee play in 1968 at Geza Gazdag’s NYC Third Vanderbilt Invitational where he -15, 20, 17 beat the 1967 World #9, the Czech Vladimir Miko, NY Daily News sports columnist Gene Ward described D-J as, “A little guy with an exuberant manner who had the crowd with him whenever he played because of his infectious smile and penchant for giving himself pep talks.”

            In 1968, D-J helped his Ohio team win the USOTC Championship and received with his 21-0 record the Most Valuable Player Award. He then went on to win his first straight-game National Championship over Jack Howard. Followed that with another—over John Tannehill, who reportedly beat him in a (doesn’t count) non-sanctioned Ohio Team Tryout match. He also took two back-to-back Men’s Doubles with Glenn Cowan and the ’69 Mixed with Patty Martinez.

            Lee wins the 1970 Eastern Open from Czechoslovakia’s Jaroslav “Jardo” Stanek, the 1969 World #11. But at the 1970 CNE Open at Toronto he was 17-all in the 5^th with newly arrived Peter Pradit from Thailand, then had to go five in the final with Tannehill

            In 1971, while D-J’s playing for the U.S. at the Nagoya World’s, the unexpected invitation comes for our Team to go to China. But D-J is not a yet a U.S. citizen (he’d become one Oct. 1st in Cleveland where he’d gone to manage Danny Vegh’s Billiard and Table Tennis Emporium). He has an unfriendly South Korean passport, and, despite assurances from the Chinese officials that no harm would befall him, he decides to return to Seoul and, as planned, bring his mother to the U. S. However, he will be part of the U.S.-China matches played in the spring of ’72 when the Chinese make their reciprocal visit to the States

            In the semi’s of the 1971 Redondo Beach, CA Western Classic, D-J’s again in the 5^th with Pradit. Lee, up 3-1, stops, goes through phantom forehand strokes, then resumes play. It’s as if he has two opponents, one visible, one invisible, and is taking turns playing them. He stops, takes a practice swing, swings again. Up 9-4 D-J’s tying his shoelaces. “Lee needs the money,” someone says. ”He has to seize the moment. How many tournaments can he go to that offer a $2,500 first prize?” Up 12-7, Lee’s doing calisthenics. Knees and feet back together now. O.K., everything’s together now. He’s a winner—still has never been beaten in any sanctioned USTTA tournament.

            In the 1972 Eastern’s final he faces Pradit again. It’s been a long weekend for D-J. For many players it’s relaxing to come to a tournament. For D-J it’s strictly business—and tiring. He hopes when he finishes play they’ll be a lingering customer or two wanting the Champ’s personal recommendation as to what’s best to buy. (Peace balls?). Again and again D-J feels pressure, “When I play a good point I often get no reaction from the crowd. They like it when I play a bad point. I think maybe I ought to lose a match—if that’s what they want. But then I say, ‘I can’t do that.’” So a local reporter writes, “Lee was quite the emotional player, stamping his foot when he served, yelling when he made an especially strong return, and pacing around the court between serves, swinging his racket nervously into the air.” D-J, up 2-0, loses the 3^rd at deuce, wins the 4^th at 19.

            Later, a New York Times reporter speaks of D-J manning his equipment booth and handing out flyers advertising not his presence here at this 1972 U.S. Open but his availability to go elsewhere. He advertises that among National Champion Lee’s tricks, for a $300 appearance fee, are: “Between-the-leg shots, playing with a scrub brush, and forehead returns.” Almost as a distraction, he’ll go on to win his fifth straight U.S. Open ($1,000 1^st Prize), losing only one game en route—to Tannehill.

            D-J’s exhibitions are his bread and butter. He told Washington Post reporter Paul Attner that he took them “very seriously.” “They help my play,” he said. “You have to make sure you don’t mess up even routine shots or it will make you look bad. So you learn to be sharp in all aspects of play.”

            It finally happens--in the fall of ’72 at the Houston Invitational. D-J, driving 29 hours non-stop from Cleveland to Houston, is accompanied by his most avid rooter, his exhibition partner Richard Farrell who unfortunately can’t drive a car. They’ve been barnstorming round the country. Eugene Kunyo, another tried and true friend who helps Lee sell as much equipment as he can at tournaments, is with them in the car—and he can drive. But D-J will only be relieved for an hour or so the entire 1,300-mile trip. He wants to make sure they all get there on time, for he knows from experience that if you’re not careful slip-ups can occur. Along the way, he drives with his non-playing hand on the steering wheel, and with the other exercises with a dumbbell.

            It’s Lim Ming Chui, whose steady blocks hold up against Lee’s constant forehand spinning that has to be tiring him, and if Lee doesn’t spin, Chui angles in winners. Wow! Lee’s down 2-0 and 18-11 in the 3^rd. Farrell in his corner tries to show encouragement but his face is etched in torment. Then D-J gets six in a row! But finally succumbs. A memorable moment—after five years, his first sanctioned tournament loss to a U.S. player. Lee shakes hands, then hurries from the playing area back to his equipment booth. He’s writing, writing, writing. It must be about where he’s gone wrong. But nobody asks him. Nobody goes over to buy anything. Later, some of us have beers in his room.

            Lee’s loss to Chui has got to be traumatic. That’s why at the Capital Open in Maryland the very next weekend, D-J’s down 2-0 and then 12-9 in the 5^th to Errol Resek. But he wins. Then he’s down 2-1 and 8-2 in the 4^th to Tannehill. But again, in a great show of psychic strength, he wins. D-J is very good at winning

            But now he’s been proven vulnerable—and, sure enough, at the ‘72 USOTC’s,  he’s beaten for the first time by a native-born American player, Richard McAfee. D-J stays on court, himself offering congratulations as Big Mac’s well-wishers rush forward to embrace him.

            Comes now (“Oh, SHHugarh,” he might say good-humoredly on missing a shot) more losses—in the 15-player complete round robin Team Trial to decide who’ll make the U.S. Team to the Sarajevo World’s. Still, D-J’s 10-4 record is good for 2^nd Place behind Danny Seemiller’s 12-2 finish (which included a loss to Lee). So we’ll see D-J in ’73 in Sarajevo—and, as we try to advance from the First Division to the Championship one, we’ll be absolutely amazed and enthralled by his play.

            First opponent: Malaysia. Down 19-17 in the 3^rd in a match we need to win, D-J scores four straight.

            But then against Hong Kong our Team’s behind 4-2 and Lee’s down 20-15 in the 3^rd. “He’s gone,” says somebody next to me. “Shut up!” I snap at him “C’mon, D-J,” I keep yelling…”C’mon, you can do it!...You can do it!...Way to fight, D-J!…Way to fight!” And, miraculously, he deuces it, and finally, finally, wins it. 27-25. Which of course inspires Seemiller and Pradit to give us a 5-4 win.

            Another tie, and again D-J takes the close games, beats two Bulgarians, 20, 16 and 21, 20. Now if we win one of our last two ties we’re in the Championship Division.  Against a Dane, Lee, down, 1-0, wins the next two—both at deuce. Amazing. Then against another Dane, D-J wins the first at deuce, loses the second at deuce, wins the third at 19. Fantastic—he’s incredibly gutsy. Then, with the tie 3-3, back comes Lee again and—unbelievable—he’s again at deuce in the third. Only this time, the odds catch up with him—and down he goes, and our Team can’t recover. Nor can we win the last tie against Rumania we need to advance. But D-J came through like I’d seen no other player do before.

            In winning his 6^th straight U.S. Men’s Championship (something no one else has ever done), D-J had to struggle—he beat Houshang Bozorgzadeh, 24-22 in the 4^th; Joong Gil Park in five; and in the final Alex Tam in four. After the tournament, about 60 t.t. players are eating at the popular Carl’s Chop House in Detroit when in comes D-J and his group. A couple of guys start singing, “For he’s a jolly good fellow.” D-J is cheered, gets a standing ovation—and buys champagne for the whole room.

            At the next (1975) World Championships in India, there is on-court drama aplenty—too much to describe here. But I offer a couple of scenes I remember that help show another side or two of D-J.

            A dog who’d been lying in the dirt outside our hostel curled himself around so as to both keep his rear end ready to take a blow and his head ready to be softly stroked. When D-J petted him, an Indian lady nearby seeing this said, “Filthy street dog!” and told D-J to wash his hands. After most of our group had gone upstairs, D-J called to the dog, who stood at the entrance of the hostel, but, though it wagged its tail, it wouldn’t come in. “O.K., then,” said D-J. “I’ll see you tomorrow, dog—outside.”

            Also in Calcutta, the aging but ever flamboyant Leah “Miss Ping” Neuberger, our 9-time U.S. Women’s Champion, was always a felt presence at any interim meal. Perhaps she had on her Playboy bunny shirt, but for sure she was wearing her “As you can see, I met Chou En-lai” photo-button, a treasured memento from her Ping-Pong Diplomacy days. Inconsequentially waving her hand, drawing of course everyone’s attention to the expensive-looking glitter of her unique matching-rackets ring, she’d burst into a conversation with, “Anyone know how many U.S. and Canadian Championships I’ve won?” To which D-J at his pixie-ish tapped his spoon against, first, a full glass of water, then one half full, then one empty, and asked, “Anyone know which glass makes the most noise?” Of course it was the empty one. Impossible to embarrass Miss Ping, though. She came right back with, “I’m not a glass. You can’t see through me.”

            Another time, another target. D-J would mischievously begin loudly slurping his soup—and all eyes would turn not towards him, but Chui…until Ming slowly got the point and smiled good-humoredly.

            At the 1976 CNE at Toronto, Ray Guillen, quite a character himself, has D-J down 2-0. However, in the 3^rd, Ray’s behind 11-8. He stops play, goes after a real or imaginary fly by circling his head, his eyes. Lee reacts, surprises everyone by mocking Guillen, playfully reaching out and snatching the air. Then…what the.…He’s really got a fly in his hand! Dead-pan-like, he’s squeezing it for all it’s worth. Then, impishly, he carries it over to Ray’s side of the table and drops it. Somebody says the score’s 1-0 in favor of Lee—he’s one-upping Ray in fly-catching. One-upping Guillen indeed. In the last three games, it’s like D-J can give Ray 7.

            “People keep saying a lot of players can beat Lee now,” said one knowledgeable bystander. “But when it comes to betting on any of D-J’s matches there’s no action.”

            The June 19-20, 1976 Columbus Sweepstakes tourney at D-J’s Columbus Club, which he’s owned for about three years now, marks the Topics appearance of D-J’s second wife, He-ja Lee, with whom he’ll spend the rest of his life. She’s a strong player in her own right, having represented South Korea in the Asian Championships. At the ’76 Closed, He-ja beats Insook Bhushan to win her first of three U.S. Championships.

            After representing the U.S. in four consecutive World Championships (1969-75), D-J would not represent the U.S. at a fifth. He, George Brathwaite, Pradit, and Tannehill refused to play in the Trials where a new selection format favoring Youth considerably reduced the chances of anyone over 21 making the five-man squad. However, in 1979, when He-ja was on the U.S. Women’s Team to that strange Pyongyang, North Korea World’s, D-J accompanied her there. On being invited to Peking before coming home, those in the USTTA contingent visiting the Emperor’s Summer Palace bowed before the newest of dynastic rulers. D-J Lee (reign: 1968-73) had put on 10 yuan’s worth of rented robes and a crown, and had then sat, arms folded in the inscrutable pose of an Emperor, for those whose elevated cameras would offer befitting homage.

            At the 1977 Love Bird tournament in Kingston, Jamaica, He-ja teams with Insook to win the Women’s Doubles over England’s Carol Knight and Melody Ludi. At the end of the five-game match, D-J, who’d been standing by with notebook and pen in hand giving advice throughout, bussed He-ja with what some in the crowd took to be more than the usual congratulatory kiss. When He-ja also won the Mixed Doubles with Germany’s Jochen Leiss, D-J in another expression of joy, sprang on Jochen, his Joola-sponsored friend, hugged him, kissed him—and was himself treated to a couple of body-bending spins by Leiss. The warm aftermath of these two wins delighted a myriad number of local photographers.

            D-J, now the sole official distributor of all Joola products in the U.S., was very loyal to the company—once he refused to appear on TV for a match when the officials wrongly insisted he couldn’t wear his playing shirt because it had a Joola logo on it.

            For the 77-78 season D-J (38) and He-ja (25) are playing in leagues in Germany. He-ja, an Oriental penholder, a strong player, made quite a hit in Germany. The two will return for the ’78-79 season—and D-J will be writing articles for Topics about their training, their play, their experiences. That first fall/winter it was so cold in their summer house; also, they had to give up their car (repairs too expensive); there were language difficulties; lack of goods or products from other countries (little or no fast food services), too expensive items, and the trepidation one feels as a passenger when, since there are no speed limits in Germany, your diver is racing down the road at 135 miles an hour. Once, says D-J, I asked a driver why he liked to drive so fast and he said, “Well, I like to drive fast when I’m sleepy—because then I know I won’t go to sleep.”

            In the quarter’s of the ’77 Closed, Lee was down 10-5 in the fifth to Craig Manoogian and someone was saying, “D-J can’t play anymore.” Uh-huh. Of course D-J won 21-19, and went on to the final where he lost to Danny Seemiller. Can’t play anymore? How many matches had he won and would continue to win more by force of will than anything else. It would still take a good player to beat him. In ’78 he’d lose from 1-1 and deuce in the 3rd.to the winner Eric Boggan. In ’79 he’d be in the final of both the Men’s and Mixed Doubles. In ’80 he again lost to Danny Seemiller and in the final of the Men’s Doubles with Attila Malek to the Seemiller brothers. He-ja, meanwhile, with D-J taking notes, drawing diagrams, making little hand motions, offering advice, was winning the ’79 and ’80 National Singles Championship and the ’78, ’79, and ’80 National Women’s Doubles Championship with Angelita Rosal Sistrunk. In ’81 D-J was stopped in the semi’s—again by the winner, Scott Boggan. In ’82, ready to retire now, he won the Over 40’s from Errol Resek.

            In 1980, He-ja will give birth to her first daughter, Mira Janet, and two years later to another daughter Yoon-Young Monika.           

            Years afterward, Mira said that, after the family moved to Vegas, D-J “picked up golf, was hooked, and never looked back.”

            Well, maybe he looked back, just a little?

            For sure, though, we in table tennis looking back on the life he shared with us, realize his humanity, his importance, for no sooner had he stopped playing than he was immediately, in 1983, inducted into our U.S. Table Tennis Hall of Fame, ever to be remembered as one of our greatest and most stalwart champions.