November 22, 2001
Liu Guoliang: My Teachers
(In the October and November issues of Table Tennis
World, Liu Guoliang, in his regular column, talks about his
teachers. These are the people who have had the biggest influence
on Liu, ever since he started playing at the age of 5. The first
teacher he talked about was his dad, then Yin Xiao, Cai Zhenhua,
and finally Lu Lin. I have translated the sections on Yin Xiao
and Cai Zhenhua. These offer insight on how the coaches interact
with players on the national team.)
Like Father and Son: Yin Xiao
I joined the national youth team in 1989. From then until now,
Yin Xiao has been my coach, and we were only separated for one
year during that time.
Yin is very career-minded. When I was on the youth team, the
penholder reverse-backhand techniques were going through the
early difficult phase of development. Coach Yin spent a lot of
efforts with us to investigate the new methods. On table-tennis
technques, Yin has always been ahead of his time. He has very
original ideas, and is not afraid to let us experiment with those
ideas. For example he worked with us on changing from pips to
inverted, backhand loops, etc. As our primary coach, he did a lot
more for us than help us train or supervise us in matches. He
allowed us to express our own ideas, and he likes to develop our
ability to explore ideas. When we have disagreements, he lets us
resolve those disagreements through experimentation. He does not
want us to just follow others. Whenever we come up with something
new, he encourages us to try it; he always says that you have to
pay your tuition fees. So I think that Yin’s style of
coaching is a democratic one.
Yin is honest and has very strong principles. He has
quite a strong influence on the way Kong and I act as a person
and as a player. When we were on the youth team, and also when we
just joined the national team, we were among the youngest, and
there were times when we loved to fool around. So Yin was very
firm and strict with us. I remember our first trip out of the
country, to play in North Korea. We did not do well at all and
were eliminated early. Yin was very unhappy, and during dinner,
he drank a little more than usual. He usually was very calm, but
this time he scolded us severely. He told us how badly he had
wanted us to do well, after all the hard work had apparently
begun to give good results. He was angry that we had not tried
our best, and that we did not feel any sense of urgency when the
matches did not go well. He felt his hopes had been misplaced. At
that time Yin’s wife just gave birth to their first child,
and Yin had spent almost zero time with his family. He instead
had focussed all his energy on us. So when we did poorly and
showed no remorse, he felt anger as well as disappointment, as if
his efforts were all in vain. When we saw how Yin felt and how
his face was flushed, we were deeply touched, and we cried. That
was the only time that I have seen Yin got so angry, and it left
a deep impression on our minds. Since then, we have never let
coach Yin get so upset again.
In the 10 years or so of trials, tribulations and successes we
have with Yin, he always understands the way we think and states
of our minds. Before every major tournament, he always helps us
fine-tune our mental states so that we can perform well. I really
admire him very much for this ability. Just before a major event,
the players will feel some degree of anxiety and restlessness. We
want to be able to perform at the highest level, and we worry
that we cannot do the best on the court, even though we may be in
very good shape already. But in reality, it is almost impossible
to play perfectly. So how we could adjust our mental states is
very important. Yin always tries to communicate with us, and help
us reduce that pressure, so that we do not feel that we are all
alone.
Let me give a couple of examples. Before the 1996 Olympics,
our team was debating whether to send me or Ding Song, and I was
finally chosen. I felt tremendous pressure; I was so afraid that
I would let everyone down. During that time, Yin would talk with
me everyday, on different subjects so that I could think more
broadly. During the Olympics, he spent as much time with me as he
could. No matter how late the matches lasted, he always waited
for me so that we could have dinner together, and we could
analyze my next opponent. He had been a source of great comfort
for me.
Then there was the 45th Worlds Men’s Singles
final match. After the semifinal, I had about 2 hours of free
time, so I took my backpack and looked for Yin. I found him
eating lunch at a nearby Chinese restaurant, so I sat down and
ordered a glass of water to wait for him to finish lunch. When he
saw that I wanted to talk to him, he got up and left with me
right away.
I told him that I felt a lot of pressure, and it was a
different kind of pressure than before. I wanted to talk with
him, but I told him I did not need to go into strategies or
tactics; Ma Lin and I had played several years together, and we
knew each other very well. I only needed him to talk with me for
a while. So we found a quiet room in the tournament halls, and we
started chatting.
In real life, every athlete feels nervous before a match. We
all get a little afraid of losing, and have a nagging feeling
that things are not going well, but some of us handle this better
than others. At the time I really wanted to win the match,
because that was the title that I needed in order to fulfill my
dream of being a grand slam champion. I would have no more
regrets if I win, and this was probably the best chance I would
ever have. Who could tell what would happen when they adopt the
big ball the following year? So the more I thought, the more
unsure I got. I told Yin that Ma Lin was younger and had
excellent spirits. He was a great fighter. But I had more desire.
Our styles were similar, and my advantage was my greater
experience. I felt that I was not in my best playing shape, and
the pressure was getting to me. So the pressure was due to my
great desire to win this title. I had to tell coach Yin this,
otherwise there would be too much I was trying to hold inside me.
I felt better after telling Yin all this.
After hearing that, he smiled and said that I was right. He
said, "It is impossible to stop you from thinking about
winning and losing. I feel that you should just try to think
about it less. You should instead think more about your strategy,
and the difficulties you might face during the match, so as to
take some pressure off." So we talked about those things a
little, and I started to feel much better prepared. I said I
needed a little rest, and I found a metallic bench and lay down.
Since I had not eaten lunch yet, Yin left me to get me a hot dog.
Even though that bench was uncomfortable, I actually fell sleep.
I had about 20 minutes of much needed rest. If I did not have
that session with Yin, I don’t think I could have won that
match.
Even though Yin is a very progressive coach, he is very
conservative in other aspects of his life. He saysthat he can
understand the way we think and act, but that does not mean he
agrees. He does not talk all that much, and he likes chess,
calligraphy and books; he is like a classic scholar. When he
first started coaching me, he tried to correct my problem of not
being able to concentrate for more than an hour or so. He gave me
an exercise book to practice calligraphy on, and told me I should
write a certain number of characters every day. After a week or
so, I could not take it anymore, so he had to give up. Then he
left me books next to my bed so that I could read more. When he
checked our rooms, he would be very happy if he found that I have
books and magazines on my nightstand. On reading, Kong was better
than me, and Yin always told me to be more like Kong. I actually
love to read martial arts novels, and I read a lot of them.
Yin has been with me the longest, during my career on the
national team. He has spent more time with me than my parents. I
can say that in my development as a player as a person, Yin has
accompanied me every step of the way. He is like a father to me.
(To Be Continued)
How Wonderful Is The 11-Point Format?
(Chung’s Notes: This is a translated article that
appears in several Chinese newspapers. The original author is
Gennaro Bozza, the well-known table-tennis reporter from Italy.
Bozza has been following the Chinese players very closely in the
last decade or so, and he has been credited with naming future
World champions with uncanny accuracy. He wrote this article for
the Milan Sporting News.)
Since the ITTF adopted the 11-point scoring system, the
Chinese men have not won any international tournament. The just
completed World Cup was won by Samsonov of Belarus, when Wang
Liqin quickly lost 0-4 in the final match. How wonderful is the
11-point format? Reporter Bozza wrote this article to express his
opinion.
If I were to play a one-point match against Kong Linghui, I
have a chance to win. The ITTF has found a way to let the
reigning champions lose. The 11-point format signifies that
table-tennis is becoming less like a sport and more a lottery
where luck rules. This perhaps is the only way for the Europeans
to break the Chinese stranglehold on table-tennis. The ITTF
attempted to explain the change as a way to attract more
spectators, but the bigger reason probably is to stop China.
No More A Contest of Skills
Since the scoring change, the difference in abilities between
players seems less important. The great players used to have
complete sets of strategy, starting from serving to gaining
control of the rhythm and exploiting their own advantages. They
need 5 serves to implement those strategies, to show their
abilities to vary tactics, and to play to their best abilities
for the spectators. If these players can only serve twice per
rotation, they find it hard to implement these strategies. The
lesser players can now strive to attack, and if they are lucky,
they would get a lead, making the final results less predictable.
Playing the 21-point format, these lesser players have much less
chance. The contest of skill that the spectators wish to see is
now less likely to happen.
Spectators Do Not See The High Level Competition They Came
To See
From a mental state perspective, the weaker players are now
calmer, which is somewhat of an advantage. I should say the new
scoring not only gives the Chinese trouble, but also make things
difficult for the European champions as well. In last
month’s Dutch Open, the final was played between Timo Boll
and Tomasz Krzeszewski. After beating Samsonov in the semifinals,
Krzeszewski continued his success against Boll. In his career up
to that point, Krzeszewski had never got into the finals,
semifinals, or even quarter-finals of any major tournament. He is
only ranked 62nd in the world. But he became the Dutch
Open champion. This kind of upset had never happened in the
history of the sport. The question is whether the spectators
expect to see Krzeszewski in the final match, and the answer is
negative.
Too Many Breaks In The Action
In the just completed World Cup, many fans expressed to me
their satisfaction. Some said that when they were just starting
to seriously follow the match, it was already over. Others said
that table-tennis is not interesting to watch, that there were
too many breaks that interrupted the flow of the game, and that
they could not get themselves into the game. These are not the
thoughts of a few individuals. The 11-point scoring has made
players like Wang Liqin, who excelled in the later stages of the
games, hard to play their normal game. Wang had problems even
with a much-lower ranked Canadian in an early round. He played
better against Saive, and had a little bit of problem with
Rosskopf. Against Samsonov, he was behind the whole match.
The Chinese Will Solve This Problem
From my personal observations, the new scoring will have less
effect on Ma Lin and Liu Guoliang. This change should affect
penholders less than shakehanders; Kong, Wang and Liu Guozheng
will have more difficulties adjusting. Of course this is only my
theory. The problem is that the new scoring makes the players
want to score points as early as possible, and table-tennis may
no longer be an intelligent sport. It’s hard to say who will
be the strongest under the new system. Some lesser players will
have temporary successes, just like Krzeszewski has, and there is
upset possibility in every match. But I believe that the Chinese
will overcome this problem. They have survive under different
conditions, and they will find a way to win under the new rule.
The ITTF is trying different ways to limit the success the
Chinese, but it will finally realize that their efforts are in
vain.
What The Players Say About The 11-Point Format
(Chung’s Notes: These interviews were taken after the
Japan Open. They appear in the October issue of Table Tennis
World. I have translated only two of those interviews here.)
Wang Nan: A 9-1 Lead Is Still Not A Certain Win
Although I won the ITTF Pro-Tour in both stops (Korea and
Japan), I still have not grasped the principles of the 11-point
format.
I played the 11-point format for the first time at the Korean
Open, and it was very different than the 21-point format. In the
past, if I had a lead of 4 or 5 points, I basically felt that I
would win the game. The first day I played someone from Taiwan, I
should have won easily. But although I was leading by quite a few
points, I still felt uneasy. The second day was better, but
almost every point was critical, as if the score was 20-all. In
the final against Ryu, I led by 4 or 5 points in the first game.
I was thinking I have won that game and it was time to think
about the second game. But before I knew what happened, I had
lost that first game. In the second, I was leading 9-1, but I was
still not confident. I kept feeling that the size of the lead was
not important, and it was easy to lose 6 or 7 points in a row.
After those 2 stops, I feel that the difference between the
strong and the weak players is diminishing. No one can be very
sure of winning, and it was easy to fall behind by one, two or
even three games in a match. It appears that we need some time to
adjust to this. But overall, I think the effect on me is not too
great. During my service, I have less time than I would like. In
the past when I had 5 serves, I could plan things carefully: how
should I serve the first, and where should I place the next
serve, etc. Now there are only two serves, and if the opponent
gambled and got one or two points, I would feel the pressure. I
don’t feel uncomfortable playing 7 games. Before I played
the Korean Open, I was worried that all those side changes would
make me dizzy. When I was playing, I felt that the games went
very fast; things were over quickly. Especially in doubles, where
we played best out of 5 games. I was also not used to the serves:
after 2 serves I was still prepared to serve more. The Koreans
have practiced longer with the new rules, and they knew things
like towelling every 6 points, while I was rather clueless about
that. In the beginning I took the towel break after 5 points, and
the referees stopped me. I ended up not taking any towel breaks
from then on.
Even though I won both stops, I did not play very well.
Perhaps it was because I was not confident, unlike with 21-point
games. Especially in the match against Ryu, where I missed
several opportunity shots. In the 4th game I was
leading 10-6, but I let her catch up to 10-all. Then I fell
behind, and I finally won that game 15-13. If I had lost that
game I would have been down 1-3 in games, and it would be hard to
say who would be the final winner.
Liu Guoliang: The 11-Point Format Should Help Me
The effects of the 11-point format are greater than we had
expected. Our service sequence, the rhythm on the court, and the
mental state are different than with the 21-point format. There
is more randomness in the results, and upsets are common. In the
past there were much fewer upsets in these Pro-Tour events.
I played the 11-point games for the first time in Korea, and I
felt awkward. Mainly there were mental differences. With the
21-point, I could start the game slowly, and get into the game
after the first 10 points or so. Now if I fall behind by 3 points
in the beginning, I feel that the game is getting out of reach.
We used to have a cycle every 5 points, but now the momentum is
stopped after 2 serves. After two good serves by me, I have to
prepare to return the opponents’ serves. When it is my turn
to serve again, I have to remember what I did the last time I
served and how the opponent returned those serves. I need a good
memory in order to link my serves together.
Shortening the games to 11 points should help me a little,
relatively speaking, since I tend to get into a game quickly, and
I am a specialized player. In terms of calculating how to serve,
I should have an advantage. Over the years, I have gotten used to
the 5-serve rotation. I have a set strategy: how I should serve
the first two, and how to place the following three. Typically
the last 3 serves were more effective, because it is hard to
serve well right from the start of the rotation. That is true
with service returns too. The first two serves were like a test,
and the last serves were more certain. Now we change every two
serves, and it is harder to guess what the opponent is thinking.
Since it is harder to have a set sequence of serves, the opponent
can sometimes gamble and disrupt my game. There is more
uncertainly now. With the 11-point games, each game is shorter,
and we need to minimize mistakes. Sometimes one mistake can cost
a game.
Compared to the increase in ball size, the 11-point game is a
more benign change for me. Mentally I am not afraid of this kind
of contest. Whoever gets into the game sooner has an advantage,
and we have to play every point as a critical point. I believe
those are my strengths. So overall, I like the 11-point format.
But since we have not played it before, we were at a
disadvantage. The Koreans were more used to it than we were, and
they had a better grasp of the rhythm than we had.
With the 21-point format, players with very solid abilities
like Wang Liqin, Kong Linghui and Samsonov did not show their
strength in the first 10 points. Then they got stronger as the
game went on. Now they are forced to get into the game right
away, otherwise they would be under pressure. In my loss to Kim
in Korea, I did not open the games well. When we played under the
21-point format, I usually started each game well. But this time,
I fell behind 0-4 right at the beginning. It is now harder to
come back from 4 points down. Playing the 21-point games, you can
afford to have into the game more slowly, but with the new
format, a couple of mistakes and the game may be lost already.
Photos from China's 9th National Games
Bai Yang and Niu Jianfeng of the
2nd-place Hebei team.
The champion Beijing women's team.
Here are photos of Guo Yan and Zhang Yining.
The luckless Feng Zhe and Wang Liqin
of the runner-up Shanghai team. Wang was undefeated in the teams
event. Feng blew leads against Wang Hao and Liu Guoliang to lose
the two critical points in the finals.
Wang Hao, Liu Guoliang and Wang Tao of the winning PLA team.
Mens Singles runner-up Qin Zhijian.
