> *This is a personal story of my experience self-learning table tennis. If you are a pro, feel free to correct my observations. Be kind.* I'm not an exceptional table tennis player. When facing someone who has technically mastered the sport or even played at a significant level, they might very well win with their eyes closed. However, most people I meet on the table are not technically trained. This is where I am good. This is where I might have a decent chance at winning. This is where even in loss, I might gift my opponent a sweat. Two years ago, this was not the story I was living. I was pretty bad at table tennis. My serves were shoddy, I never returned a single serve back onto the other side and my ability to handle spin is better left not talked about. --- I had just joined my current company in October, 2021 and we had a culture where table tennis was taken as *serious fun*. It was a good way to de-stress and for graduate hires like myself, a great way to get to know the *bigger fish* at the company. For a textbook introvert such as myself, the table was the only way I knew how to strike a conversation with the seniors. On seeing the TT room for the first time, I instantly felt a sense of elation. I had hardly even seen a TT table in the past. And I loved sport. As a child, I spent many hours playing football, cricket, badminton and basketball (in that order of preference). So, how difficult was TT going to be? Turns out, the answer to that is **very ...** --- **The first game.** A fellow graduate asked me if I wanted to play. I jumped onto the opportunity. We grabbed the heavily-used, but still in shape paddles in the room and took our sides of the table. He had the first serve. He stood at the centre of the table while I was leaning a little towards my left to make room for my right forehand. He tossed the ball up slightly and pushed it forward with his paddle. I popped the ball back to his side with a touch I felt was soft. 1-0. My "soft touch" was in fact not as soft as I expected it to be and I had failed to land the ball. He served again. I failed the landing again. 2-0. It was now my turn to serve. I popped the ball up and pushed it like how I had seen my opponent do a serve earlier. One bounce on my side and straight into the net. Foul serve. 3-0. I smiled sheepishly to hide my embarrassment. I had just met this colleague a week ago. What does he think of me? Does he know I suck at the game already? Would he make fun of me? Would he tell others about this? The intrusive thoughts of 10-year old Ram took shape in the head of 23-year old Ram. Nevertheless, I picked the ball up and attempted my second serve. I hit the ball onto my side first by angling it a lot more vertically then before to give it enough power to cross the net and land on the other side of the table. One bounce on my side and the ball rose from the table, gliding magnificently over the net and it landed straight onto my opponent's s...hoe. 4-0. I had over-adjusted the trajectory. I was 4-0 down in an 11-point game and my opponent had not had to return a single point back onto the table after I played it. After an excruciating display from my end and a few unforced errors from my colleague, the final score read 11-3. But hey, at least it was not 11-0. That would happen the next day. --- For the next 2 months or so, my everyday involved doing fascinating business intelligence work with Looker for clients and losing horrendously to colleagues on the table. There was a point in time where I dreamt less about my work and more about my fledgling table tennis career. Every day's loss was different. Sometimes, my colleagues were just too good. Sometimes, I made horrible mistakes. Sometimes, I was moody and didn't care for the loss. Other times, I was over-excited and my ego got the better of me after a loss. But mainly, I was just playing like a headless chicken, with no concept of improvement and very little will to actually learn the game's techniques. I was brutish. I even remember one specific discourse with a very dear colleague and friend of mine. He told me, *"Learn to spin the ball. I can teach you. Spin is hard for people to handle"*. I responded in a very callous, ungrateful manner, *"I don't respect spin. I think it's an idiotic way of playing the sport."*. My colleague just proceeded to humble me by winning the next 5 games comprehensively by only spinning the ball. **Message received. Loud & Clear.** I continued accruing losses. Everyday, with almost everyone who played me. At times, it was evident how people didn't want to play me even (though nobody ever outrightly said this), considering how my playing was so bad. It was never a fun, challenging game with me. It was always, *just too easy*. --- But with every game, my body was starting to pick techniques of other players. I slowly learnt that I could hit the ball with more comfort than I did initially. I could serve, even if the serve would get smashed back straight away. The biggest improvement I saw in my game was when I took a vacation in December 2021. Seven days of not playing the game. And when I came back, my game suddenly felt stronger than it ever had been. I am no expert, but I believe this "sudden improvement" is an example of [subconscious learning](https://juhiramzai.medium.com/top-5-life-lessons-from-the-book-the-power-of-your-subconscious-mind-e28d8ceffbd6). I started offering slightly more respectable games to my colleagues. Everybody started talking about how I improved significantly in the last 3 months since they first saw me. My goal to be able to offer at least "respectable games" to colleagues was in a sense, complete. **Now, I wanted to win games consistently.** --- The fact that I now could see my hardwork and resilience pay off in games, caused me to actually shift my mindset into one of an active learner. It's a shame I didn't think of this much earlier than I did. Nevertheless, I began trying to learn techniques. Different types of service, the art of the return, spinning the ball, smashing and returning smashes. My favourite kind of learning however was **player profiling**. Here is the thing. When you start of knowing nothing technically, you learn a game by mimicking players who do it better than you. You see their style, you try to emulate it. With player profiling, I decided I could not just catch a player's style, but also use it against them to win games. To fans of [Harvey Specter](https://suits.fandom.com/wiki/Harvey_Specter), I decided to *play the man, not the game*. To true fans of Harvey Specter, he never said *game*. He said *odds*. I liked player profiling as it was an easier way to win games for a technically untrained amateur like me. It gave me the edge when playing against other technically untrained opponents. It was me marrying two of my most important strengths - **Observation and Adaptibility**. Some of the profiles I have seen at work (with no names taken) are **The Flank Guardian** This player exhibits a pronounced preference for one side of the table, rarely venturing towards the center. By consistently aiming shots at the far corner of their weaker side, I can disrupt their rhythm and exploit their positional rigidity. Even when they attempt adjustments to move to the centre, the discomfort is quite evident, throwing them off their natural game and giving me a tactical edge. **The Backhand Powerhouse** Known for a formidable backhand smash, this opponent's forehand strikes are comparatively weaker, often involving lukewarm, lightly spinning shots. My strategy revolves around playing only to their forehand, thus neutralising their backhand early in the game. This can lead to frustration and overcompensation with their forehand, resulting in errors and lost points. **The Close-Quarter Strategist** A tricky customer who thrives by playing close to the table, adeptly returning even the most aggressive smashes with effortless backhand placements. To negate this effect, I lob the ball closer towards the edge of the table, often confusing them of their own position. It's a good way to get a few points and more importantly, attack the opponent's comfort and force them to make mistakes. **The Volatile Virtuoso** Possessing high skill but vulnerable to emotional swings, this player struggles with comebacks under pressure. My approach is cautious at first, seizing a few early points, then delivering a strong smash to gain a psychological upper hand. From there, I switch to a defensive stance, incorporating spins and strategic placements. This methodical slowdown often leads to the opponent's aggressive overplay in an attempt to regain control, a manifestation of the ['sunk cost fallacy'](https://thedecisionlab.com/biases/the-sunk-cost-fallacy) where the urgency to recover lost ground results in further errors and, ultimately, defeat. > *If you are wondering, I am a predominantly aggressive, forehand player who can make adjustments to slow things down if needed. I am also very volatile at times and throw away games due to lack of temperament. But, its a lot better than it was before!* Of course, none of these finds would work 100% all the time. But, even if they work 40% of the time, it is enough for me to drastically improve my chances of a win. Repeating this strategy over and over again meant I could now learn to profile new players as and when I played them. It felt like magic - The power of observation and adaptibility. --- As I write this, I am currently a colleague who people at the company love to play with. I am consistently in the top 5. My friends outside of work also enjoy playing TT with me. I mostly win, but more importantly give almost everybody a respectable game. A game which is not too easy to win. A game that is fun. A game where they learn a thing or two. A game where I might sometimes annoy them with a cheeky showboating shot. And as I look back, the last two years of playing table tennis for at least 15 minutes every working day has taught me more about life than I could have gained of any self-help book (and I would know this as I had a phase of reading self-help). #### Lessons 1. It's okay to suck at something. It's okay to let people think you are bad. What is not okay is to stop showing up just because you are not good enough. Keep showing up everyday and trust the process. You will improve in time. 2. Accept knowledge from all sources, especially when it comes to you. Don't be cocky. Not when you know nothing. And not when you know a good deal of something. 3. When your natural skillsets are limited, observe the environment and try to operate on areas most people fail to notice. Sometimes, you win not because you are more talented, but because you look farther than your opponent. > *Trust the bloody process. No matter how difficult it seems or how useless you think you are!* **Fin.**