Six days a week, five hours a day comes to 30 hours a week. That is how much Aadi, still two months short of his 10th birthday, will practice from Monday. We, Aadi, his mom Anjali and I never imagined this scenario when Aadi switched ambitions, from wanting to be a cricketer to wanting to become a Table Tennis player.
"Table Tennis should be a breeze for Aadi," I thought a year ago when we made the decision to change the game. After all, every cricket coach, most cricket parents, sundry spectators, the groundsmen, fellow cricketers, rivals all have commented on his amazing ability with the bat. His lovely stance, his follow through, his technique. Most of all his hand eye coordination, developed almost from the time he could walk through countless games of bat and ball. Games that began with a small plastic bat and a big plastic ball. That evolved to a big cricket bat and a leather ball, gloves, helmet, pads, even a ball guard by the time Aadi turned five.
Cricket coaching used to be a weekend affair. Two hours on Friday, and a couple on Saturday. Sunday's would be reserved for matches or an hour or two of lazy practice in the housing society. Fitness was a bit of stretching and warming up before the games. Training lasted for about seven months, as five were monsoon months in Mumbai and Pune and so no cricket.
It was actually the monsoon that was responsible for the switch. His last cricket coach, an ex-India cricketer recommended Aadi take up Table Tennis to further improve his hand-eye coordination. He told us how all great batsmen, including the greatest of them all Sachin Tendulkar, used the sport to stay sharp and keep fit during the inactive months. Easy enough for father and son as the housing society had a nice big hall with two Table Tennis tables. So we hit the tables religiously everyday for an hour or play.
Like everything to do with a bat and ball, the beginning came easy for Aadi. He was a bonafide recreational paddler within a couple of weeks of first picking up the bat. A month later and the "serious" players in the society would seek him out to play with him. That recognition of challenging and beating players more than twice his age possibly induced a desire to take up this sport. We agreed. Anjali and I were happy he wanted to try a new sport. One with an Olympic tag. One not tainted with big money and big politics.
So, almost a year to the day, we switched coaching from cricket to Table Tennis. The beginning was similar to cricket. Practice on weekends for a couple of hours a week. This went on for a month. Then two months. Then he started getting good at it. Beating kids
Monday, November 16, 2020
Saturday, October 24, 2015
The End is the Beginning
Season 1, as a competitive table tennis player ended yesterday. Aadi was knocked out of both the Cadet, boys under 12, and Sub Juniors, boys under 15, categories at the season ending Maharashtra State Table Tennis Championships. He exited in the second round in both the events. For other kids, the journey continues. They move on to the national open tournaments and from there the National Championships. Their season has a couple of months to go.
But, for the three of us, our first year on the Table Tennis circuit ended with the dual straight 3-0 losses. In cadet class Aadi went down to Mayank Nishthal from Mumbai. Mayank is Aadi's age, has been playing competitively for three years, training for five, and will be the top seeded Cadet in Maharashtra next year when this year's top seed moves into the sub junior category. It was an easy match for Mayank. He did not even break sweat. But, we were happy with the match too. Aadi reserved his best play of the season for his second last match. He fought hard, was not cowed by either reputation or superior game play of his opponent and kept going till the last point. He also did not let his shoulders droop.
He almost never made the match. In a sad commentary on how sports is run in India, Aadi's match with Mayank was preponed by a couple of hours. The revised schedule was posted close to midnight the previous day, when most of the participants had already left the venue. How would the parents know? How would the kids turn up for their matches earlier? Not the organisers problem. We only discovered the changed timing five minutes before Aadi was supposed to take on Mayank. We were at home, about to sit down to lunch when another harried parent thought it prudent to call and inform us. Lunch forgotten we rushed to the venue. By the time we got there, Mayank had already been given a walkover. But a word with the chief referee changed that. Aadi got his chance to end his season with a match.
The past six months have been an emotional roller coaster. We have experienced it all. Exhilaration, at a runner-ups result at the district level. Depression at losing matches that should have been won.
Frustration at negative cheering and being outsmarted by parents and coaches who excelled at off table tactics. Cheating by a coach who deliberately mislead us and played Aadi in a category he should not have played in, just so the coach could gain visibility. There have been tears of joy and disappointment, mostly disappointment.
We have also learnt a lot. Aadi most of all. He has learnt to take pressure. To go on a table with a hall full of spectators and play, most of the time knowing his opponent is more experienced and skilled than he is. He has learnt the value of training. Of preparation. He has learnt to take wins and losses in his stride. That not all defeats are the same. There are honorable losses and there are painful defeats...these are the matches he should have won, or where he was distracted. He has learnt to focus. To blank out almost everything and just concentrate on the ball. He has learnt not to underestimate his opponent. He has learnt that even the biggest player is beatable on his day.
We have learnt as well. Learnt that though this is a game played by kids, this is no society soccer match. That the most serious kids train as hard as top professionals. Mayank trains six hours a day, every day. Another Mumbai kid and Aadi's rival for top state honors next year, plays each stroke a 1000 times a day. Next day it is a 1000 of another stroke and the next day a 1000 more of a third. We have learnt that there is no such thing as an individual sport. They are all team sports. We are Aadi's team. I drive him to and from practice and matches. Anjali is the nutritionist, ensuring he eats healthy and right. I worry about getting the right coaches and match practice. Anjali shoots the videos for Aadi to review after his match.
I make sure his paddle is ship shape that there are enough balls. Anjali ensures he has the outfit and shoes. I talk Table Tennis with Aadi. Anjali talks school syllabus, homework and exams with him. I take care of his fitness. She his health. The list goes on.
But, for the three of us, our first year on the Table Tennis circuit ended with the dual straight 3-0 losses. In cadet class Aadi went down to Mayank Nishthal from Mumbai. Mayank is Aadi's age, has been playing competitively for three years, training for five, and will be the top seeded Cadet in Maharashtra next year when this year's top seed moves into the sub junior category. It was an easy match for Mayank. He did not even break sweat. But, we were happy with the match too. Aadi reserved his best play of the season for his second last match. He fought hard, was not cowed by either reputation or superior game play of his opponent and kept going till the last point. He also did not let his shoulders droop.
He almost never made the match. In a sad commentary on how sports is run in India, Aadi's match with Mayank was preponed by a couple of hours. The revised schedule was posted close to midnight the previous day, when most of the participants had already left the venue. How would the parents know? How would the kids turn up for their matches earlier? Not the organisers problem. We only discovered the changed timing five minutes before Aadi was supposed to take on Mayank. We were at home, about to sit down to lunch when another harried parent thought it prudent to call and inform us. Lunch forgotten we rushed to the venue. By the time we got there, Mayank had already been given a walkover. But a word with the chief referee changed that. Aadi got his chance to end his season with a match.
The past six months have been an emotional roller coaster. We have experienced it all. Exhilaration, at a runner-ups result at the district level. Depression at losing matches that should have been won.
Frustration at negative cheering and being outsmarted by parents and coaches who excelled at off table tactics. Cheating by a coach who deliberately mislead us and played Aadi in a category he should not have played in, just so the coach could gain visibility. There have been tears of joy and disappointment, mostly disappointment.
We have also learnt a lot. Aadi most of all. He has learnt to take pressure. To go on a table with a hall full of spectators and play, most of the time knowing his opponent is more experienced and skilled than he is. He has learnt the value of training. Of preparation. He has learnt to take wins and losses in his stride. That not all defeats are the same. There are honorable losses and there are painful defeats...these are the matches he should have won, or where he was distracted. He has learnt to focus. To blank out almost everything and just concentrate on the ball. He has learnt not to underestimate his opponent. He has learnt that even the biggest player is beatable on his day.
We have learnt as well. Learnt that though this is a game played by kids, this is no society soccer match. That the most serious kids train as hard as top professionals. Mayank trains six hours a day, every day. Another Mumbai kid and Aadi's rival for top state honors next year, plays each stroke a 1000 times a day. Next day it is a 1000 of another stroke and the next day a 1000 more of a third. We have learnt that there is no such thing as an individual sport. They are all team sports. We are Aadi's team. I drive him to and from practice and matches. Anjali is the nutritionist, ensuring he eats healthy and right. I worry about getting the right coaches and match practice. Anjali shoots the videos for Aadi to review after his match.
I make sure his paddle is ship shape that there are enough balls. Anjali ensures he has the outfit and shoes. I talk Table Tennis with Aadi. Anjali talks school syllabus, homework and exams with him. I take care of his fitness. She his health. The list goes on.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
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