THE SOUTH KOREAN WHO LAUNCHED MY VILLAIN ARC

How one casual table tennis encounter exposed my level—and made me want more.

There’s a fine line between confidence and delusion and, for a while, I believed I had the perfect balance.

I played daily at my gym, even refereed a tournament and took the odd lesson or two.

This meant, on a weekly basis, I played 40-plus games against players with varying styles.

So whenever I played with my friends, I was the best by a country mile.

Cue the confidence.

Fast forward to my time in Bangkok. I found a table tennis club and, after a few drills, easily beat one of their students in a five-game match.

As I waited for another opponent, a South Korean man warmed up next to me and we started talking.

He explained that his son studied in London, where I was from, and introduced himself simply as ‘Park’.

I immediately noticed he warmed up way more than I ever did before playing—I thought it was due to his age. Once he was finished, I asked if he wanted to play a few games.

Pardon the pun, but I thought it would be a good test and perhaps a walk in the Park?

Hello delusion, my old friend.

Every one of his serves spun off my bat. He never broke a sweat, but he definitely shattered my ego. Before the third game, I put in my order for humble pie and asked him how on earth I was supposed to return his serves.

To my surprise, he showed me two ways to return them and then proceeded to win game three. At least I won four points out of eleven—my highest score in the three games played. A little consolation to go with the pie.

I signed up for a month of lessons that same day and, I must say, it was the best decision, as my entire game was transformed.

My defence improved and I could finally play on the attack. My forehand—once my biggest weakness—became a formidable weapon. The footwork drills left me drenched in sweat and opened my eyes to the importance of mobility and plyometrics.

While playing with someone at training, I mentioned the encounter that led me to take classes, and he responded: ‘YOU played against Park?’

It all started to make sense: the time he took to warm up, his focused approach, but also the class he showed in teaching me how to return his serves.

I immediately realized I’d come up against one of the club’s most respected players—someone considered among its very best.

Park didn’t just expose the flaws in my game; he showed me the difference between playing for fun and training with purpose. I entered the club believing I knew table tennis.

It took me three games to understand how much there was left to learn—and I genuinely wanted to learn it properly.

These days, I work on my mobility, train regularly, watch games, and even attend international tournaments, where I’ve seen the best players in the world compete.

I rarely play with my friends anymore—I need more enemies.

Watch this space.