Pong Dynasty:
In Table Tennis,
Chinese Rule
Around the World
Are China Exports
April 11, 2008; Page A1
VANCOUVER, British Columbia -- The best American and Canadian table-tennis players squared off here last weekend for a chance to represent their country this summer at the Beijing Olympics.
| In Vancouver, British Columbia, Eric Owens bids for a spot on the U.S. Olympic table tennis team. But he's the only U.S.-born male at the event. WSJ's Christopher Rhoads reports. |
Only one of the eight American players was of non-Asian descent. All but three were born in China. Six of the eight Canadians also here vying for Olympic berths were either born in China or of Chinese descent.
China's superpower status in table tennis has created a prickly problem for the sport: Nearly all the world's most competitive players are Chinese. And that has made for a lot of mixed feelings.
"The Chinese make us train harder and raise our game," says Eric Owens, the only U.S.-born male at the Vancouver event. "But a lot of people are really sick of them coming over and taking their spots on the national team."
Since China has so many top players, many in recent years have changed citizenship in order to play for national teams elsewhere. Most countries -- like the U.S. where many think of ping pong as a game played in the basement on rainy days -- are glad to have players who will give them a chance in international competition. The downside: Teams full of Chinese players undermine already scant local fan support and, according to some, the development of home-grown talent.
At last month's world championships in Guangzhou, about 170 players representing countries other than China -- about one quarter of the participants -- were Chinese. Even Japan, once a ping-pong powerhouse and not known for warm relations with China, has Chinese players on its national team. America's best hope for an Olympic medal: Gao Jun, a 39-year-old player who won a silver medal at the 1992 Olympics for her native China.
"You go to a match between Poland and France, and it's just Chinese playing against each other," says Dan Seemiller, one of the highest-ranked American-born players in recent decades -- 19th in the world in 1975 -- and now coach of the U.S. men.
![[chart]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_tO_FXlyhwul2v0GIjpKDzy0SxgT8PIZFKzVyYqi0Qy8QAa4Rk2PSWYsrdysBXZ8kup9L_WlRIeVEgJFg1yBsL3zdP_XZ3TIfh6o1j8SRTDSALXUOMKIMPl7XUb3C3FAtVtnatlu48b2vLfjZMu=s0-d)
In an effort to address the issue, the International Table Tennis Federation in February passed a rule requiring Chinese to wait before playing for a new country, for a period of time based on their age. Those between 18 and 20, for example, must reside in their adopted country for seven years before they can compete at certain international events. Those 21 and older can never become eligible.
The rule, which goes into effect in September, does not apply to the Olympics. But it could affect Olympic competition if fewer Chinese players decide to move abroad as a result.
"Something had to be done to develop youngsters and not just bring in people from China," says Rudi Sporrer, the chairman of the rules committee for the ITTF.
Mr. Sporrer acknowledges that his native Austria, where he heads the country's table-tennis association, is no exception to the trend. The national team features the 18th-ranked female player in the world, Liu Jia, who moved to Austria 12 years ago at the age of 13 because her mother thought she had no chance of making the Chinese national team. Austria has surged to the top 10 in world rankings, thanks to Ms. Liu and several other Chinese players.
Canada's table-tennis head, Tony Kiesenhofer, calls the rule counter to globalization -- and possibly illegal. "If you're afraid of taking on the second-tier Chinese players who move here, how in the world are you going to compete against the best Chinese players?" says Mr. Kiesenhofer.
His theory on why the game hasn't developed in North America: big houses. Homes in Canada and the U.S. are often large enough for a ping-pong table in the basement or garage, which means children here are exposed to table tennis informally. In Europe and Asia, home to the best players competing in lucrative professional leagues, generally smaller living spaces mean children must play at a sports club, where there are organized teams and training.
After some success in the 1960s, China's current domination began after the country reopened to the West in the early 1970s. The only significant break in China's run came from Sweden, led by legendary player Jan-Ove Waldner. For about six years starting in the late 1980s, Sweden won many world titles. Other individual players have punctured China's veneer of invincibility, but no country has approached China in churning out such a large number of top players.
Ms. Gao, representing the U.S. at the Olympics this summer, rose to No. 3 in the world as part of the Chinese national team. She stopped playing in 1994 when she moved to the U.S. but then picked it up again a few years ago after a divorce. With no competition near her Maryland home, she moved back to China to train.
"A Chinese player will beat an American player 11-0," says Ms. Gao. "Or the U.S. can use a Chinese player and maybe have a close match -- which way do you want it?"
For the 32-year-old Mr. Owens, the only U.S.-born male at the trials here, the Chinese influx was bad timing. Growing up in Houston, he became so obsessed with hitting a ping-pong ball that he skipped school to compete in tournaments, eventually dropping out after the eighth grade.
He captured repeated national age-group titles through his teenage years. A favorite to qualify for the U.S. team for the Sydney Olympics in 2000, Mr. Owens lost out to several Chinese players who had since moved to the U.S.
![[Yong-Xiang Zhuang]](https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/blogger_img_proxy/AEn0k_sbB40Vl9lw0FDfKiQvuB1vcXWDJrg0w__yQJXW77h5l68J-5JOCiEKVnm2ib3gzcZjBLfmJkR5c54DVRresAgmfr1Bwar4T8CFNRmcZP6pPqY7AexDKwhPHx1nLQ2f4mraYTyZdja_MPw1xa49Gg=s0-d)
He eventually went to college, at 26, and now attends medical school in Chicago. In the matches Sunday for the final spot on the Olympic team, Mr. Owens won his first game against the 44-year-old Zhuang Yong-Xiang, who represented the U.S. at two Olympics after moving to New Jersey from China in 1990. Mr. Zhuang eked out the second. (Matches consist of the first to win four games, with each game to 11 points. A game must be won by a margin of at least two points.) The Canadians and Americans here were playing for a total of six Olympic spots, for three men and three women.
The seesaw battle of opposing styles -- Mr. Owens is considered a "looper" for his top-spin shots, while Mr. Zhuang is more of a "blocker" with his traditional Chinese pen-hold grip -- continued until each won three games, forcing a decisive seventh. At match point, with Mr. Zhuang leading 11-10, Mr. Owens slammed the ball to Mr. Zhuang's backhand side. Mr. Zhuang blocked the shot back down the line. Mr. Owens scrambled to his right but couldn't reach the ball, eliminating him from competition.
Later that night, Mr. Zhuang won again to qualify for the U.S. Olympic team. "I know how hard Eric wants to reach his Olympic dream," says Mr. Zhuang, who has competed with Mr. Owens as a doubles partner. "But that is sport."
Write to Christopher Rhoads at christopher.rhoads@wsj.com
