War, he sung, is toil and trouble;

Honour but an empty bubble.

Never ending, still beginning,

Fighting still, and still destroying,

If the world be worth thy winning,

Think, oh think, it worth enjoying.

-John Dryden, 17th Century

Our great fear is that a tournament we slaved over for months, ‘our baby,' for whom we trucked well over 40 tons of flooring, tables, bleachers, monitors, tee-shirts, chairs, etc., for whom we worked until our feet and hands blistered (anyone who wants to even ‘number' 122 tables, much less put the sets on them, much less build them straight from the carton will know what I mean) will be remembered for its controversy rather than its operation, for its scandal rather than its result.
-Co-Tournament Director Alan Williams, 21st-Century 

Ohhh, the title of this article, those opening lines, they suggest right off a witches' brew of toil and trouble? After seven decades of Team Championships, will this particular Thanksgiving, 2001 one - another of Richard Lee and indispensable helper Fong Hsu's well-organized Baltimore North American Team Championships - be thought of, continue to be thought of, as a unique, an historic "happening"? Something having to do with honor and emptiness, fighting and destroying; something worth the winning, to be enjoyed?

This article's just beginning, the hurlyburly's not yet done; to crown the winner, a semi-elimination's sure to come.... 

I've been going to the annual Team tournament on Thanksgiving weekend for 50 years - and so have seen it evolve from a U.S. World Team Trials for a special few into a "fun" event for the masses. This year, however, the team names were much less colorful than in the past; the Hammer of Thor, thrown, did not return; and even the Boo's Brothers in yachting caps or shirts that spoke of corporate ennui ("Sometimes you just gotta say ‘Fax It'") seemed subdued. A blandness threatened; the forbidden appealed....

Of course the carefully seeded Preliminaries went as expected - except for the T.T. Talents' 5-3 upset of the Canadian Laval Letendre team that allowed them to advance as one of the final 20 teams still in contention for the Championship. John Wetzler scored a 5-game win over former Canadian International Bao Nguyen; Rich Burnside triumphed over Sebastien Trepanier, 13-11 in the 5th; and Guy Germain, only yesterday featured as the Junior Champion of Canada, the best Men's player in all Quebec - see his smiling photo on the cover of Topics, Jan., 1962 - lost all 3.

The Talents, however, once in Division 1A, dropped their opener to another Canadian team, 5-4, when Jean-Francois Roussy won his 3, beating Parviz Mojaverian 11-9 in the 5th, and Roussy's sister, Marie-Christine, Canadian World Team member, added a win over Parviz, and Mathieu Raymond defeated John Wetzler. Perhaps this affected the losers' play in the next tie, and perhaps not, for Robert Blackwell, Jr.'s Chicago Killerspin team, the tournament's #1 seed, eased by the less talented Talents 6, 1, 5...2, 6, 3...3, 4, 2...4, 2, 4...4, 6, 6. Alas, too, in their 5-team round robin, this Ilija Lupulesku-coached Killer team - with Kalinikos Kreanga, Greece's World #18, and two World Top 60 Yugoslavs, Slobodan Grujic and Aleksander Karakasevic - had no trouble knocking off the 5-0, 5-0, 5-0 heretofore victorious Eastern Stars...5-0. Grujic proved vulnerable, though, for he, 11-9 in the 5th, barely beat Shao Yu of the NYTTC. And Sasa Drinic, the Killerspin 5th, struggled with Shao's teammate Nison Aronov, whose playing/training regimen in the former Soviet Union seemed still to carry over as he beat J-F Roussy 12-10 in the 5th. ("Seven days a week I used to play, 24 hours a day," Nison said with a smile - "now I've a wife, kids, a job, a mortgage. Do you think I'm upset if I lose a match? Why is anybody upset? We're all here to have fun, right?")

In Division 1B, the Defending Laszlo Varga-coached Seattle Juic team - Zoltan Varga, Fan Yi Yong, and Attila Turbok - blanked the opposition. But Team Senoda (Todd Sweeris, Eric Boggan, Ricky Seemiller, Lee McCool, and David Sakai) went down to the advancing MI III team, 5-2. The 38-year-old Boggan, who'd been down 2-0 in his opening match with Mark Nordby (Mark's at his best against antispin?), and who, having serve-return problems, lost to Canada's promising Quebec Junior, 14-year-old Pierre-Luc Hinse, seemed incapable of coming out of retirement to play simply for fun. Hadn't he always, in achieving his place as U.S. #1, always been too intense for that? On losing close matches to Paul David and Tahl Leibovitz, and, worse, repeatedly playing badly in the clutch ("I'm 6 points better in practice!"), he looked to take out his frustration not only on himself but on the umpire. Perhaps Eric didn't know the rules - that after a game he couldn't carry the racket with him to his corner, or that he could only towel off at certain times - but he was certainly out of line insulting ("Get a life") and harassing this duty-minded umpire who he thought was giving him a hard time.

Eric's teammate Ricky, also coming out of retirement - and looking the part with, as one wit put it, his "Retro Outfit (1982 shirt, 1973 shoes) - had recovered from a ruptured bicep, the effects of which make it sometimes difficult for him to keep his hand flat on serve, and did well to beat Leibovitz. Earlier, Tahl's spectacular shots (he's surely the most dexterous switch-hands point-getter in the U.S.) had sent the spectators all abuzz by going five with Fan. Everybody was talking about Tahl's backhand receive of serve - what an unfailingly sure touch he had. But of course despite, or because of, a litany of physical disabilities he has to endure - I'll mention only a congenital spine disorder, herniated disks, pinched nerves - he's a formidable opponent, as his medals at the Paralympics, the World Championships for the Disabled, and the Maccabiah Games will attest to. He's also sure to sooner or later draw a red card, or a chuckle, as when, down 7-0 in the 5th to Fan, he yelled, "Dammit, I got a bad start!"

The Quebec Juniors played two spectator-appealing, though winless ties. First, MI III 5-3 got the better of them: Paul David took two and almost three, losing to young Hinse 13-11 in the 5th ("He's got such short, heavy pushes I couldn't get under them"); Poland's gift to the N.Y. Champions Club, Jan Klenendorf and his long pips, added another two; and Sharad Pandit came through, after being down 6-1, with an 11-9 5th-game win over the precocious Pierre-Luc. The Mr. Saigon team also bested these Juniors, 5-4 , when Tuan Le survived his 11-9 in the 5th, edge-of-the-cliff battle with Ignacio Cabrera.

In Division C, there were two ties of interest in addition to the evening's scheduled last-round meeting between the two undefeated teams - Jerry Wartski's Manhattan Club and the Canadian Men who hadn't lost a match (though Sean O'Neill had forced 2677-rated Peter-Paul Pradeeban to 5, as had Under 16 U.S. Junior Champ Han Xiao the Canadian International Xavier Therrien).

The two ties to follow involved, first, Manhattan, then the U.S. Juniors. In its 5-3 afternoon win, Manhattan had been pressed by O'Neill's About/Ping-Pong threesome - namely, 5-time U.S. Champion Sean himself, who would defeat both the former world-class Czech star Renata Peluchova, as well as, with a stirring -7, -6, 9, 9, 12 rally ending with a world-class forehand, the visiting, Italian-league professional Michael Oyebode, and Sean's teammates, Jiachen "David" Wang whom Sean had taken under his on-line coaching wing and who in the last year had left his home-base in Houston to twice train in China, and Puerto Rico's best young hope, Santiago Coste, sponsored to Sweden by Pioneers and winner here over Peluchova who later came back to down Wang 12-10 in the 4th to clinch the tie for Manhattan.

The U.S. Junior Men had come out of the Preliminaries with a win over the perennial New York Veteran team. Alex Tam, now almost 60 and still enjoying cigarettes (did the Chinese know he, a former escapee from the Mainland, was playing in Baltimore?), began his non-stop play against # 1 U.S. Boys Under 14, Adam Hugh, by winning the 1st game 11-1, but then - was it his lungs or his eyes? - he said he just hadn't learned the technique of handling today's serves and just couldn't see the ball in time. Nor against the Masaaki Tajima-coached #2 U.S Boys Under 14 , Misha Kazantsev, could Hui Yan Liu fare any better. Misha's mentor here, Danny Seemiller, liked Misha's enthusiasm, for ("Yeah!... Go!" ) the boy often yelled fist-up encouragement to self. Said one spectator, "If he stops Liu's Loop, he stops his game." And this is just what Misha, gaining confidence, did, prompting the remark, "See, he's adjusting - he's a very smart kid."

Which brings us to the second of these two Division C ties we're following. In its 5-4 evening win over these U.S. Junior Men (who, like the U.S. Junior Girls, were wearing an American flag sewed into their shirts, shorts, and warm-up suits - "These patches itch," says one of the girls), the O'Neill team started well with Wang's 11-8 in the 5th win over Hugh, and Sean's win over Xiao. But hard-fought retaliatory victories by Kazantsev, Xiao, and Hugh brought Misha and Sean together with the Juniors leading 3-2.

 "Misha reminds me of Eloi [France's on-court-very-demonstrative World Team member]," Sean had said watching the boy play Coste. Now out there at the table it's almost as if Sean were facing Eloi. He's behind 2-1 in games, and Misha seems to be yelling him down, sapping his strength. "Sean's playing low-energy points," says a friend. In the 4th game, the kid is making quite a noise as simultaneously he serves. Sean stops, protests, gets an umpire. I don't blame him. I remember how the German International Jochen Leiss didn't like all of Coach Seemiller's screams, or I'm sure mine, in years gone by - though of course we didn't yell as we made contact with the ball. Misha is quite compliant - he wants everyone's respect. Sean is 8-5 up, and as I'm thinking this interruption is going to break Misha's concentration, Sean returns Misha's hard-hit balls with a variety of lobs, then unexpectedly chops a low return which Misha swings at as he has the others - and misses. That's a breaker, I think - and, sure enough, Sean's soon up 10-7. But what poise this 13-year-old has. He unhesitatingly, aggressively ties it up at 10-all. But Sean too has poise, and wins it 12-10.

In the 5th, though, O'Neill pulls away and, Sean is 10-3 match-point up, and Misha, having got an edge and mumbling to himself, "I'm not gonna say I'm sorry, I'm gonna kick ass," mounts an incredibly fearless attack, which Sean, though he isn't for a moment careless, can't physically or psychically combat. Literally sprawled on the floor after a follow-through that brings him to 10-9, Misha gets up, and to the continued cheers of his teammates - "O, my god! Unbelievable!" - runs out the game.

Stunned Sean has to be...About/Ping-Pong....What about it? What in this instance can you say about the Sport other than something ecstatic?

 But the O'Neill team rights itself. Coste beats Xiao, and Wang, down 2-0, pulls a stunning reversal of his own against Misha. O'Neill is again forced to five - this time by Hugh who, as his father Barry Dattel says, is banging in backhands "that he doesn't take at the [Westfield, N.J.] Club." Adam, however, is off to a fatal start in the 5th, is down 6-0, and, after he can get no closer than 10-6, his racket goes spiraling ceilingward.

 A pity, though, that much of the crowd was only peripherally into this 5-4 tie, for tonight it was Manhattan's expatriate Wang Chen, a member of China's 1997 World-winning Women's Team, that the spectators most wanted to see - Wang, and her colorful teammates: the scimitar-scarred Musa, the Sea-and-Sardinia-based Nigerian Oyebode, the Czech Peluchova, even their captivating Captain, Wartski. But, though Wang was allowed to enter the recent U.S. Open, could she play in this tournament? Hadn't China, the U.S. (via ITTF regulations) suspended her until July 31, 2002 from all International competition for...well, in effect, wanting to come to America?

But apparently no one in authority had told Wang or the Tournament Committee she couldn't play - though at least one International Umpire, Chris Lehman, had read in the ITTF's October, 2001 Bulletin #276 that this Baltimore Team tournament was listed on the ITTF Calendar, and that Wang had been suspended from "all international competitions." (Apparently, only because such an announcement had not been published previously had she been allowed to play in the Open at Fort Lauderdale.) But even as Chris had unsuccessfully sought guidance beforehand as to Wang's eligibility at these Team's, her entry had been accepted, and she and her teammates had traveled to Baltimore on the assumption, or at least on the hope, that she could play. So, yes, o.k....No, no, wait, stop her, she can't continue to play - this is an International Open (perhaps every U.S. tournament is these days?)....But then, though stopped, she did play, one more tie - for Manhattan...in the tradition of those "problem players" - Miles, Reisman, Cartland - whom more than half a century ago everybody crowded Lawrence's on Friday nights to see.

How did it happen that, for a couple of hours, formalities were more suspended than Wang was?...

Fan identification that's often so noticeably missing in a reserved-seat tournament like the World Championships permitted the North American spectators to enjoy following, among other teams, the fighting spirit of the Canadian Men. Their names too suggested quite a worldly mix - Peter-Paul, Csaba, Therrien, Kassam. This second night of the tournament, a climactic pretend tie, worth the winning, was arranged that was as real as any actually recorded here in Baltimore - a Saturday night final as it were...agreed to by the Canadian Internationals, the very team, I'd heard, that, in being scheduled to play Manhattan in the last and deciding tie in Group 1-C this evening, had objected to Wang's earlier participation in the event. It was this protest that had precipitated Wang's belated expulsion by the Referee and Manhattan's reactive refusal to advance to the quarters, as even with their default loss to the Canadians they could (though in an unfavorable position in the draw).

All of which was such a disappointment to players and spectators that it precipitated, in the interests of good sportsmanship, a pretend tie to take the place of the scheduled one - this unofficial tie having been sanctioned or, oh, alright, wisely permitted by Tournament Director Richard Lee...with nary an umpire. Someone told me that Canadian Coaches Christian Foisy and Dejan Papic didn't think it necessary to make sure their players knew the tie wouldn't count - better for the spectators, better for the players that they tried as hard as they could. Result: Canada 5-Manhattan 3.

 Wang - "Why does China want to control me? They didn't care about me before. But, alright, I fight on the table, I don't want to fight off" - opened by losing to youthful, Hungarian-trained Bence Csaba. But then - digital cameras at the ready, are they? - she scored in a photo-finish over Pradeeban Peter-Paul. Wang's teammate, the 29-year-old Oyebode who started playing 17 years ago in Ibadan, Nigeria and now represents the Sardinian CUS Cagliari Club, after losing to Therrien and Csaba, put forth a valiant, crowd-spurred effort against Peter-Paul, but fell 11-9 in the 5th. And Musa, though he had good wins over "Pradee" and Therrien, couldn't sweep - was stopped by Csaba in the 8th and final match.

This Canadian-Manhattan tie, seen in the mirror of the audience, was perfectly legal...or perfectly illegal - did it matter? Until Sunday afternoon, it was the most watched tie of the tournament. People yelled, applauded - felt they were part of a sporting event. "Shut up!" someone caught up in the action yelled to Alan Williams as he persisted in announcing over the mike the drawn positions for Sunday's quarterfinals.

The U.S. Men won Division D, but dropped matches - (1) to the Christian Lillieroos-coached runner-up TX Wesleyan University team, winner of the Best Dressed Award. Christian was telling me an article's worth of information about how Dr. Hal Jeffcoat, President of the University, wants the school to have an international flavor and so has recruited Christian and is sponsoring players to bring higher education to China and table tennis to the U.S. Under 18 Junior Champion Mark Hazinski lost 11-8 in the 4th to Wesleyan's Razvan Cretu, who lost 15-13 in the 5th to Ashu Jain, who lost 11-9 in the 4th to Jasna Reed - "Razvan's a very dangerous player," said Ashu (who was down 9-6 in the 5th); "if I can't keep him from attacking, I've had it - but that's o.k., I need to be under pressure to focus well).

The U.S. also dropped matches to (2) the Canadian Torapotapomme team. (Question: "What kind of name is that?" Answer: "The translation is, ‘You Won't Have Your Apple.'" Questioner's first thought: You won't have what you want - the apple of your eye - won't beat this team? Questioner's second thought, just the reverse, "You'll beat this team - won't get the apple - won't choke?... Question: "Has the name any symbolic or extra-terrestrial significance?" Answer: "No, we just thought it would be difficult for the Americans to pronounce"). And (3) to the Matrix team, which avoided coming last in the round robin by downing Puerto Rico, 5-4.

The Victor Pimental-coached Puerto Ricans, runner-up in the 2001 Caribbean Team Championships and a strong threat to win the next one since they'll be held in Puerto Rico, were at the center of the action. First, in the Preliminaries when Barry Dattel and his wife, Thursday's Hardbat Champion Lily Yip, of the New Jersey I team could only bring in a win apiece against them. Then, in this round-robin when, for two reasons, Matrix got by them 5-4. One, because Virginia Sung knocked off their whole team - 18-year-old Abner Colon, 2554-rated Juan Revelles (who'd been down 10-9 in the 5th to Lily and was saved by a net), and, climactically, in the 9th match, after being behind two games to none and at 10-all in the 4th, Luis Ruiz. And, two, because Sung's teammate, former Puerto Rican International David Fernandez, who earlier had beaten both Mark Hazinski and Ashu Jain of the U.S. Team, stopped Colon in 4 and Ruiz 11-9 in the 5th ("Out of retirement - the David of old!" he proclaimed with at least a touch of irony.)

Puerto Rico was also somewhat unlucky to lose to Torapotapomme (David Ramdeen, Anson Bispham, and Guillaume Boutet) - but maybe they did get the "apple" because, in a furious fight, the Puerto Ricans let slip away a 4-2 lead. Puerto Rico also lost to Wesleyan University when Cretu was the very model of a #1 man, on court and off, taking all three matches, and, with his athlete's build, shaved head, dark glasses, and close-fitting turtleneck, looked like he ought to be pictured in an ad in a glossy men's magazine. Give credit, too, to Idan Levi for stopping Revelles and to Jasna Reed for patiently pushing and picking against Colon's fun-to-watch defense.

 Though there were of course players from many countries here in Baltimore, it was very difficult to connect this Open with any recognizable ITTF event. To me, it just wasn't meant to be that. The Convention Center setting contributed to the informality. Play was in a vast Hall holding 122 tables, far as the eye could see, on which men competed mostly against men, but also against women. Over 700 entries fought it out in Divisions that harbored the entire range of players - from beginners to professionals. Only the Championship Division was, in a manner of speaking, given the red carpet treatment and differentiated from the many rows of clustered, unbarriered tables by a section of barriered-off courts.

Questions had been raised not only by me but by a number of players as to whether this gigantic hybrid tournament should really be considered an International event and so subject to strict ITTF rules. There were, after all, accommodations some thought whimsically made, or not made, to players. Although the Mexican Fortune players, headed by recent Caribbean Champion Guillermo Munoz, didn't show for Friday's Preliminary Group 6 play, and in fact didn't come to the tournament at all, they were advanced into Saturday's 20-team still-in-contention-for-the-title round robins. This was a convenient phantom advance, for the two top finishing teams in the Group 6 Preliminaries had balked at taking their unfortunate place in the Championship Division. One wanted to play for prize money in a lesser Division, and the other felt it wouldn't be at all enjoyable to be so overmatched in the remaining two days of play. (So now who wanted the hassle of trying to pick fairly another team.)

Also, with Tournament Co-Director Alan Williams offering Mozart Sunday morning over the loudspeaker, Manhattan was in such good spirits that they decided not to withdraw and to play their quarter's tie - without Wang, and without any chance for prize money. Crossing out Musa en route, shooing the umpire away, they substituted the affable (1149-rated) Wartski to play against the U.S. #1 (2829-rated) Fan (yeah, sure, it was o.k. with Fan), and this of course brought forth a spirited exchange - fun for the supportive, bantering spectators ("I got butterflies," says Jerry coming off court. "Don't be upset," says a bystander - "it's not a bad loss.")

As for the conditions at this International Open - what one fellow continued to insist was "a non-existent event for the ITTF" - weren't they suspect? Consider the concrete floor, the questionable lighting, the fact that only some Championship Division tables were umpired, and that the world-class players' matches on them didn't count toward rankings. Consider, too, the occasional mid-competition change in team rosters (Michael Henry moved from the Guyana North team to join the eventual Big Apple B Division winners, Steve Berger and Cameron Scott, who'd been limping along, trying to fend off the opposition when three of their supposed teammates didn't show). These were all arguments mustered for a free-spirited throwaway of ITTF restrictions on Wang, and a tip-off as to many player/spectators' disdain for the ITTF Handbook and perhaps even for the jacketed umpires thanklessly obligated to enforce the rules....

The Sunday stage, then, had been set. A drum! A drum!

Well, maybe no drumbeats for the quarters. Wartski and his team didn't win of course - but Oyebode forced the Hungarian Turbok into five.

The U.S. advanced to meet the Hungarians in the semi's, but not without challenges from the Eastern Stars. If Hazinski, who'd dyed his hair blond and had been razzed by his South Bend mates into shaving off the beginning of what might have been a mature-looking goatee, perhaps he might also have been chided here by some U.S. supporters, if U.S. supporters ever did chide their own, at his 5, 7, 7 start-up loss to Abass Ekun. But against Zhuang, Lonergan (6, 7, 5) might as well have been playing against the World #18 again ("Kreanga had trouble with some of my serves for a while, but..."). Tie: 1-1.

 Brian Pace, however, proved a worthy foe for Barney. He'd been playing league matches in Romania and, as he knew how to dedicate himself to a task, was shaping his game as he'd shaped his body - playing and practicing and training...six hours a day, six days a week. So promising was his future that he'd received a contract offer from an Austrian league and, having probably outgrown the Program at Costanza, will likely accept. "I've really a life over there," he said contentedly. After losing that 2nd game 12-10 to go down 2-0 to Reed, he'd shown his customary determination by compelling Barney to earn his win in 5.

But, as one might deduce from David and Joannie's little daughter Zoe's approved reading material - the comic book, "Powerpuff Girls...Dynamic Destruction" - Zhuang was too strong for Abass. And as Hazinski had also been working pretty hard at his game for two months abroad - at the Butterfly Dohjo in Tokyo, getting better at serve return, at powering his shots, at improving his footwork - he, helped by a net at 11-all in that 2nd game, was too tough for Pace. That left it up to Lonergan, else the Stars wherever they'd be scattered that afternoon, would remain a group unseen. And Sean did have his moments. Battering Barney 11-1 in the 2nd, he evened the match, then in the 3rd, continuing with splendid backhand winners that even into the 4th had Barney looking back at his bench (as if to ask, "Is anybody counting? How many has he hit in now?"), he rallied from 10-8 down to take a 2-1 lead. But that 4th game went to Barney ("spin Boldak!" I swear I heard him swear on missing a shot - for back then the town was still held by the Taliban). And the 5th game to Barney too when, down 6-3, he rightfully didn't take a point the umpire was willing to award him, and when, up 10-9, he scored the strong crosscourt tie-ending winner.

What can I say about the Canadians vs. MI III? My, my, only that Paul David, down 2-0 against Peter-Paul, is trying to give himself an unavailing pep-talk ("C'mon, boy, wake up - you're too good to be playing like this"). And that Tahl Leibovitz, twirling his racket artfully at the serve-receive ready, moves into the O.K. Corral and up 9-5 against Csaba in the only game Tahl can play, gets six slugs in him without, as it were, firing a shot.

In the remaining quarter's Wesleyan does o.k. against the Killerspins: 2, 8, 7...6, 10, 6...8,9,5...7,4,2...5, 2, 6. Give no quarter, ask for none.

So now it's the semi's - prepare for the change. Tie matches are best 3 out of 5, each match best 4 out of 7 games. A makeshift arena has been formed of two adjacent courts - one for the Killerspin-Canadian tie, one for the U.S.-Seattle Juic tie. Spectators crowd around - some packed into the two small bleachers provided, others having brought up chairs near the court, or standing, shifting their weight and perhaps their preference for one player over another as well.

 Better go with the Killers first - that won't take long: 6, 6, 2, 2...9, 9, 4, 5...7, 3, 1, 6. Not much of interest there - outside of awe for low, tracer-like catapulting shots that carom off this or that pin-pointed section of the table-top. Indeed, the final, as it will turn out, won't be any better contested - again, the Killerspins won't give up a single game, they're just too good. So in retrospect one's hope for something more dramatic has to take place on the remaining semi's stage - what, given the Canadians' quick exit, will soon become the sole court of play. 

For the Danny Seemiller-coached U.S. team it's Barney Reed, David Zhuang, and Mark Hazinski (in that playing order) and for the Laszlo Varga-coached Defending Seattle Juic team it's Zoltan Varga, Fan Yi Yong, and Attila Turbok (in that order). The U.S., being assured of $1,200 prize money for reaching the semi's, is an underdog in this tie worth another $1200 to the winner but probably not more, for the other finalist will certainly be Blackwell's Chicago Killerspin, a heavy favorite to win the $6,000 top prize. Still, the crowd, cheering for the U.S. but pretty much discounting their chances of scoring an upset here in the semi's, looks forward to seeing how the U.S. #1 Fan and the Hungarians will do later in the final against the strong Killerspin opposition.

But first things first. And that was Barney Reed's opening 7-game win over Zoltan Varga (former member of the Hungarian team who'd been coached by the famous Zoltan Berczik). This encouraging start for the U.S. was highlighted both by Barney's 19-17 4th-game victory to even the match, and his hands-up triumphant thrust to the heavens at 11-9 in the 5th to...uh, Barney, your semi's match is best 4 out of 7. In this 5th game, Barney's 9-4, 10-7 lead had almost gone for naught after a sensational backhand by Varga but had then been preserved with the help of a judicious Time Out from Coach Seemiller. The final 11-8 7th game Barney also earned - and, aw shucks, earned a kiss from his mother as well. I myself have never seen Barney, bless him, play a better match. His "mind," as one fellow put it, "was really into the game," and Barney himself felt he'd sharpened his focus by recent practice with Atanda Musa and Eric Boggan.

Against Fan, however, David just couldn't get oriented - he'd either laugh and shake his head to try and avoid embarrassment at his uncharacteristically poor showing, or look bemused or puzzled by some of his and Fan's shots. When in the 4th and final game he did challenge, he served into the net both at 8-6 and at 11-all and his opportunity to rally - rally his psyche - was lost.

Hazinski had his chances against Turbok. He won the 1st 11-9, then was at deuce in the 2nd, but couldn't maintain the impetus. By the time Turbok, on his way to victory in the 6th, had built up a 3-1 lead, Seemiller had repeatedly protested the Hungarian's throw-back serves to the umpires, but in vain. After Hazinski had taken the 5th game and was battling in the 6th, Danny was still irritated that the umpires weren't stopping what he called the "cyber-momentum" of Turbok's serves (Attila wasn't contacting the ball as it came straight down but, taking the racket back, was swinging around into the ball). "We could win this match - could win this tie," Danny had said, his voice breaking, "if the umpires would just warn the players about their serves. Every year it's the same problem - how hard can it be to warn them? But it never happens. Do it just once, and they'd stop."

Zhuang and Varga both needed to recover from their earlier losses, but after David won the 12-10 1st game, both father/coach and son/player began to feel victimized. "David no fair play" said the father after a questionable point, and young Varga finished the 4-0 match by deliberately smacking his serve return into the net. The Hungarians were obviously disturbed - and, though they'd been returning to this Team tournament for years, it wasn't the first time they'd been upset.

So now the U.S. needed only one more win to reach the final. But would big bucks be at stake here? I mean, was there anybody in the audience who'd bet on Barney over Fan? Especially after he'd been destroyed 4 and 2 in the first two games. "Who the hell's taking flash photos over there?" he'd (down 6-0) stopped play in the 1st to scream. "They've announced it a thousand times - no flash photos!" Alan Williams heard and heeded Barney's objection - ushered the offender out...."Chinese rubber" Barney (down 9-1) had screamed in the 2nd - "spin it!"

Then, however, following Seemiller's advice, "Everything fast and out. Nothing short," Reed began to find his attacking game. But up 7-4 and at 10-all, he couldn't win the 3rd when Fan played well in the clutch. Though down 3-0 in games, Barney continued challenging in the 4th and at 8-8, as Alan Williams was saying, "No dog in Barney," a ray of high-up light from above illuminated...what?...something on Fan's racket - a wet spot? "You've a bubble on your racket," Barney said, hand up, stopping play, and pointing the umpires to the problem, "He's got a bubble on his racket." And, so saying, he went over to his bench and put on his warm-up jacket.

Barney, I might add, knew exactly what to do, for, as he told me later, he'd once been defaulted at an Open for having a bubble on his racket and failing to have another racket at the ready. That, he indicated, wouldn't happen to him again - yes, he said, he had a back-up racket. Some wondered why Barney would point out the bubble in the first place - wasn't it more of a disadvantage to Fan? But it seemed to me it was just instinctive, not calculating, on Barney's part.

Play was stopped while umpire Dick Evans and scorekeeper Joe Lee, with me peering over their shoulders, examined the racket. Since the umpire was responsible for checking the acceptability of equipment, Dick and Joe decided that had the bubble - described as "about the size of half the fingernail [or, well, maybe the whole fingernail] on the little finger on the right hand of the umpire" - been more to the periphery of the racket they would have allowed Fan to continue playing with it, but as it was in the middle of the racket they called in Referee Azmy Ibrahim who concurred that change was necessary and so suspended play.

Fan was aghast - "I never hear anybody talk about a racket like this," he fumed, striding about his side of the court. Meanwhile, seeing the time the umpires have taken in making their decision and realizing it's a judgment call, some in the audience are already disagreeing and are shouting, "Boo!...Boo!...Play!"

Referee Ibrahim now tells Fan he can reglue the same racket, but not in the court, and so off they go - Fan with scissors, glue, and a rubber sheet. This ruling astonishes the U.S. Team, including not only Barney, but Coach Seemiller and President Sheri Pittman who has an ITTF Handbook in hand. The Rules are clear:

ITTF Handbook, 2001-2002: 3.4.2.2 A racket shall not be replaced during an individual match unless it is accidentally damaged so badly that it cannot be used; if this happens the damaged racket shall be replaced immediately by another which the player has brought with him to the playing area or one which is handed to him in the playing area [handed to him because players are not allowed to leave the court during their match]. 

So members of the U.S. Group are in accord that Fan, having left the court, trying to re-glue the same racket he's been playing with, is technically "toast."

The 2001-2002 version of the Rule does give one pause though. It's not been immediately clear to the umpires, who were trying to put a finger on the problem, that the racket has been "damaged so badly" that it's unplayable. Perhaps other umpires would not have ruled so (and perhaps even these umpires, had they known the brouhaha that was to follow, would have thought that, considering there was the possibility of only a minute or two's play left in the tie, the racket might be deemed at least momentarily playable).

Rule "2.4.7: Slight deviations from continuity of surface or uniformity of color due to accidental damage or wear may be allowed provided that they do not significantly change the characteristics of the surface."  

One tries to recreate what's just happened there on court. Did the Referee ask, as he says he did - what, with his years of experience, one would think would be the first question out of his mouth - if Fan had a substitute racket? It's hard to believe that Fan, if this question were asked, didn't understand it, or, with his years of experience, didn't even anticipate it - though he was upset. His answer, as both he and Azmy agree, was No, he didn't have a substitute racket. (Perhaps Fan was under the misleading impression that a player had to have an identical racket - a thought that was being bandied about by people who might have been misinformed by an erroneous passage in a past article or two by Ibrahim in the USATT magazine.) No had to be the answer, for if Fan's answer to this question was "Yes, I do have a back-up racket," the Referee surely wouldn't have made the mistake of taking him out of the court.

Later, not someone named Henry James but an anonymous "Golden Bowl" writer, addressing an e-mail message to the USATT in general entitled "U guys suck," had it right when he (she) said that the officials should have made sure Fan understood his options. As it was, Alan Williams at the mike was initially told that an official Time Out had been called for Fan to repair his equipment.

Was taking Fan out in itself illegal? Rule 3.3.1.2.7 says that the Referee shall be responsible for "deciding whether players may leave the playing area during a match" [which by inference suggests that a player can't leave the playing area without permission of the Referee]." But of course in this case the Referee can't say, "Well, I accompanied this player to make sure he got another racket - for all agree Fan didn't get another racket.

Actually the Referee would later say, quite shakily, something to the effect that it was customary in international tournaments to give players a chance to correct a problem - that he'd "extended a courtesy to him [Fan] to change that sheet of rubber ONLY" - which, from some people's point of view, may have been o.k. But from one of the professionals on the Killerspin team it obviously wasn't o.k., for he said that even if he were told by an official that he could leave the court, he wouldn't. Clearly it was against the Rules.

When Fan came back and intended to play with a freshly glued racket, well, understandably, that wasn't gonna be the least bit o.k. with his U.S. opponents. Some or all of them may have felt a little guilty about it, but they wanted a default - and got it. The message conveyed by the umpire to Alan Williams at the mike was that Fan was defaulted for "improper procedure in repairing his equipment." Of course this reason, this wording, was ill-chosen, for there was no proper procedure for repairing his racket - he had to have another one. And if ignorance of the law is no excuse, one would have to censure both Fan and Azmy

This, however, was surely only part of the reason for the default, for on being told he could not begin to play with that re-covered racket Fan went to his bag that had remained in the court from the beginning and, with the Referee and Seemiller looking on, said o.k., he'd play with this racket from his bag, one that had earlier been given him by his teammate Varga and that he didn't really want to play with. Perhaps he could thus say, in defense of what Azmy considered an outright lie, "He didn't have an extra racket - that one in the bag wasn't technically his. But with Seemiller standing there asking, What gives?, the Referee, perhaps somewhat confused and intimidated, and not knowing what else to do but that he had to act (when consultation might have been helpful) took a hard-line position.

He would later explain he was disgusted with Fan:

"[He] deliberately delayed the game for no reason, because he has another racket all this time, he was not concerned about the feeling of his opponent, the umpires, the audience, the tournament, or the sport. He did not leave me any other alternative but to disqualify him." 

Really?

Because-oh, wow! - it was clear from the audience reaction that ITTF or no ITTF tournament, formal Rules or no formal Rules, an alternative should have been found. The letter of the law might have been served, but, boy, the spirit of the law sure wasn't - not from the deafening roar that went up. For - I've never seen anything like it - on hearing of Fan's disqualification and the U.S.-urged win, there was a spontaneous eruption of "BOOOOO! BOOOOO! CHEATERS! CHEATERS! BOOOO! BOOOO! BOOOO!"

A U.S. audience was railing against the U.S. Team and its supporters - something unheard of, an historical oddity, one that swept not honor but a wave of shame over the "winners."

The younger Varga hurled a can of soda bleacherwards, and the chunky Hungarian Turbok picked up a barrier and threw it into another court, then stalked off, giving the finger to the U.S. bench. "BOOOOO! BOOOOO! BOOOOO!...You thought it would never stop. Fan, opportunistically, grabbed the mike from Williams, swore he'd been suckered and stated, "I never, never come here again." The crowd applauded his independence, his heroism.

Danny Seemiller tried to address the crowd, tried to say how unfortunate the situation was - but...BOOOO! BOOOO! LOSER! LOSER! LOSER! BOO! BOO! BOO!...they wouldn't let him speak.

"You have to get the Referee up here to explain," Danny says. "You want to get him lynched?" replies Alan." The Referee, however, knows what's good for him - he's already left the building. President Pittman - who'll later write a letter of apology to the Hungarian Association - takes some of the brunt. Alan tries to restore calm, "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is not Jerry Springer..." but gives it up - plays music from the movie "The Natural."

There's a happy ending to light up the final scoreboard?

Player-spectators, contrary to what some have predicted, do not leave as the final comes on. Perhaps some stay only to BOOOO! BOOOO! BOOOOO! the badly beaten U.S. Team - though Karakasevic did add some levity when, hands down there at the table he exaggeratedly pressed his weight onto his newly glued racket. That drew bubbling laughter.

It's been necessary (Cheer up, Richard, your tournament's still every bit worth enjoying) for the dejected Tournament President to call in Special Police...just in case the spectators might get wildly out of hand - maybe it's the soda can thrown like a baseball that convinced him.

Says the uniformed Security Guard still on the alert next to me, "I used to have fun playing ping-pong. I didn't think it was this intense."