About Elisabeth’s Face

I learned the rules of table tennis when I was about six years old. My dad would always offer to play easy, but this offer was always paired with a reminder that if he played easy I’d never improve. My response was always a quiet smile and steadfast “no thanks.”

As I improved I began to mirror his teaching style. Now for any opponent I’ll offer to shift down a level and their answer usually provides a relatively sound character sketch and game prognosis. A mischievous smile tells me my opponent isn’t in it for the game, he or she is showing off for a friend or just indulging my hunger for a match. The player’s head is somewhere else, an easy win but not a worthwhile game. A conceited response along the lines of “Only if you want to…” (emphasis on the want) shows the person’s obsession with image and that he or she has a bit too much belief in their own ability and intelligence. The player is a nuisance. Indecisiveness leads to empty arguments and inevitably bitter conclusions. You win the game but that person is going to guilt you into feeling like a cheater, and you’re not a cheater. Then there is the swift corner grin and two-word response of “no thanks”. A worthy adversary, the game will be brutal and you may not even win.

It’s called a match for a reason; you’re supposed to play people who are at an equivalent level. If you’re not, then you should play just as hard to bring them up to your standards. If you go easy then you too are sending a message, a message that the status quo is just hunky-dory. The status quo is rarely hunky-dory. There’s a reason that the word change is so closely associated with the world. We have changed, are changing and will change. If we don’t, we’re doomed to indefinitely remaining stationed as the loser. No one wants to be the loser, but overcoming the forces that prevent everyone from being victorious takes effort, which not everyone is willing to put in.

My dad hasn’t beaten me in a few years. We play good games; long, trying, but I always end up with the win. Dad never frowns when he loses for the forth time in a row; instead he radiates happiness. This level of delight is only attainable by a person who recognizes the beneficial significance of their failure. I suppose for every tired winner there is a happy loser. When I eventually grow drowsy I can only anticipate the void of happiness soon to be sealed. I will gladly pass on the paddle when the time arrives, but I’m not tired yet.