From a whisper to a scream…
They flung the barriers six feet in the air when they won. Pride and passion. It looked like they meant it. He shook his fist in our faces during the match. Fight and ferocity. He looked like he meant it. He gave him the finger when he went to shake hands. Shockingly enough, he meant it.
When you dance the emotional dance at the European Youths, you realise that it bears no resemblance to the stiff formality of Irish table tennis. Only the English team’s reaction to their victory in the Cadet Boys team event had a ring of Irishness about it with the solitary clenched fist and the pallid look that would suggest disappointment to most of the world. More English than the English themselves.
From the first awe inspiring moment you walk into the Sasza Arena you know there is a mountain to climb. 18,000 seats banked in three tiers with the imposing video cube hanging menacingly from the roof. A wonderful venue with a sting like a black widow.
One more cup of coffee
It took their breath away, that smallest Irish team in living memory (mine anyway) and even to someone as stadiumed out as me, it was pretty impressive. Ever difference underlined how far away we are from this other world of table tennis. Mighty venue, brand new tables, the rest room, the press centre, just a professional norm for all the other countries at event such as these. It’s been said before but while we zero back into our Irish Time Tunnel, everyone else is moving forward at an ever quickening pace.
Let’s focus on the team for a moment. They were magnificent. The results were not to their liking nor to most peoples but it was not for want of commitment and effort and good table tennis play. They bore the 100 blows with grace and good humour and with spirit and style. Take a pinch of their enthusiasm, add a dash of their dedication, squeeze a few drops of their resilience and the ITTA might just have a recipe for success. But it’s not the ingredients; it’s the cooking that lets you down every time.
Boulevard of broken dreams
So many young hearts have been dashed on the rocks of despair, but the same mistakes are made with merry-go-groundhog day–like precision. Players spend countless precious hours of their childhood practicing, Parents spend countless thousands of their hard earned money, dreams and hopes, ambitions and aspirations all washed away on a tidal wave of bickering and indecision.
The ITTA is like a fat old monarch from a by gone age. It expects every one to be grateful for the merest crumble from the royal table. It is indifferent to the dedication shown by the players and coaches and expects that they will be appreciative just for being selected. It pontificates that the standard is not good enough without ever having figured out that the standard can only come from dedication, hard work from the players and the same commitment from the governing body to support and help the players. Life is a two way boulevard.
A Song for Sarajevo
Next year and its another tournament in another hall. If there is to be a wish for the future it has to be that the players who show potential and who are dedicated are given the kind of support and help that they need. Little point in sending teams away half prepared but equally little point not sending teams at all but leaving them at home to while away the summer idly. The gauntlet has been thrown down by the victory in the primary schools. It was a result created in the clubs but if these players are to reach the next level they need to be nurtured and supported by the ITTA. We will be watching with interest