When I went to the Table Tennis National Championships in Tokyo a month ago, the last thing I expected was a revolution.
High-toss serves? Tricky spins? Off-the-chest, flicked backhand smashes? Yes, yes — and bring it on! But open calls for revolt? Knowing glances at red-faced officials? Players shedding their conservative shorts for skimpy skirts?
No, no and no — but surely I was intrigued.