Outside of the perfunctory Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey, no one has yet to cheat death, but if he’s up for a game of ping pong…
Ping Pong is one of the recent documentaries in the Docurama series of rather amazing releases. Perhaps best known for Bob Dylan: Don’t Look Back, Docurama is a steady releaser of quality non-fiction films, and Ping Pong is no exception.
Beginning with the presumed last days of Terry Donlon, Ping Pong follows the journey of the over-80 crowd on their way to claiming the title of Table Tennis World Champion in Inner Mongolia. Initially, the premise seems silly: two-thousand octogenarians in competition, but soon ping pong becomes the force that keeps many of them on the road to their centenary birthdays.
Despite the thick glasses somewhat occluding foggy irises, deep creases that define their faces, sagging chins, there is fervent activity in each movement. Their forehands could rival those of combatants thirty, forty, or fifty years younger. The spins they impart on the ball create a movement seen in collegiate competitions. Their footwork may be stymied because of arthritis, newer hips on the decline or battles with gout, but their strategies are ever-apparent.
Les D’Arcy, a multiple-gold-medal winner, aims for the sides of the table to keep his opponent off balance. He crouches before each return to keep his body explosive and to intimidate. Rune Forsberg, another many-timed champion and nemesis for D’Arcy relies on his serve and powerful forehand, and he is most often seen ruminating on how D’Arcy beat him the last time they met. Then there’s Lisa Modlich, a cutthroat spitfire living in Texas. She is loud and brash, not afraid of announcing her opponents’ weaknesses. She has an ego, and if there were a villain in this film, she would be it. She’s younger than most, and, in part because of this, she’s slightly obnoxious…but she’d wipe the floor with you at the table. Her eyes are unflinching, as is her forehand.
Of this group, the winning and losing is not as important to the narrative as is the fight against mortality. These were not former Olympians who refuse to relinquish their grasp on glory. These are people who found a calling late, late, late in life and establish themselves as a minority akin to the adolescents and early-twenty-somethings that compete in the Olympics every four years. From 51 countries come 2071 competitors. Competitors refusing to conform to the cultural stigma of age and old-age homes.
Perhaps the last twenty years have made it easier for such competition and constant rejuvenation to take place, what with the aide of supplements, power drinks, and nutritional aides.
Or perhaps Ping Pong offers an example of a group that refuses to be swept under the rug. The Internet and its technological brethren have fostered global interaction – an obvious statement, yes? – but they have also created a global competition of recognition. These matches, as well as the specific competitors above, can be found on Youtube. Their flare and passion available to anyone who Googles.
Such accessibility buttresses cultural and social relevance, refusing to go quietly into the night, giving clout to the testament that they “would like to die at the tennis table.”