A Decade Apart: How My Playing Self Has Changed
1
In 2016, in one night I could play 11 straight matches in the city’s highest amateur A-level round-robin, all going the distance. Though the record was poor, at least I was “battle-ready.” In 2026, in one night, three evenly-matched opponents and I am at my “stamina limit.” For a companion, he is “done with tonight’s task in two matches.”
2
In 2016, I could play almost all-forehand, pivoting and striding nimbly. Whether I hit it was one thing; at least I loved the thrill of ripping — called the amateur poor man’s Chen Qi. In 2026, unless I really cannot win, I do not lightly pivot. I drill the backhand loop rarely used in matches, playing with side-slices and side-pokes — called Niwa reborn (Coach Niwa: I am still alive…). On the surface light-footed, actually a bit unsteady.
3
In 2016, I brought five or six jerseys each night, craving the smooth slide of imported jerseys on my body, changing one each game. Not because I wanted to — I sweated so much I had to. In 2026, I change into the jersey before playing, and after, no need to change. The whole night, one jersey, as if my skill is so deep I do not even sweat.
4
In 2016, I gulped sports drinks all night, deeply pondering whether Pocari Sweat or Gatorade was punchier; I do not even recall if there was a scream. In 2026, in January I drank Red Bull — huh, it really refreshes. By February, mineral water is healthier; sugary drinks scare me a bit. By March, I bought a thermos.
5
In 2016, with under ten thousand yuan in my pocket, looking at a Butterfly custom I loved, priced 2800, I sighed: I love it so, but cannot afford it. In 2026, buying a thirty-thousand-plus new Butterfly custom is no longer beyond me. Then the second before ordering, I mutter: I just covet her this moment, I would not really play her — and pick up my Heima-tuned again.
6
In 2016, leading the team to a team-event title, I was overjoyed, sighing at my bright prospects, hoping soon to win a city singles title for further fulfillment. In 2026, I suddenly realize I have not joined a singles event in ages. Chatting with the big-brother uncles: playing is just for exercise. Looking at the basketball in the corner at home, I suddenly realize: the last time I played basketball was ten years ago.
7
In 2016, in a 179-yuan Mizuno Crossmatch Pilo bought the previous Double 11, I proudly declared: this shoe is enough for my whole life. In 2026, I feel this barefoot-feel Mizuno is still great value, but ultimately I want to be a bit good to myself. I ordered a pricey Asics Dynafeather — much more expensive, but at least very comfortable; one must be a bit good to oneself.
8
In 2016, playing a custom Innerforce ALC, I thought I would play even better gear later, and better gear should advance my technique. In 2026, I long since switched to a few Maharu Yoshimura Limiteds, from ALC to ZLC — that bit of added rebound mirroring the decade’s stamina decline. Now ZLC seems not punchy enough; I wield an SZLC played three months (the Heima-tuned ZFC), stubbornly guarding the inner line, the fiber ever thicker.
9
In 2016, playing, I liked showing off graceful strokes, and watching players would cheer and praise. In 2026, just now, the instant I nearly slipped, I looped a pass-through, full of pride. The few players beside me acted as if it never happened — turns out they were all scrolling their phones.
10
In 2016, my eyes still had spirit; my side profile was good-looking then, and I felt truly youthful. In 2026, at a class reunion, an old classmate not seen in ten years said: why do you still look so youthful as before? “Youthful” is a word only used to describe “uncles.” Dragging my body, weary from working until 2 a.m. last night, I smiled: because over the past ten years, I have kept playing.