The big devil in table tennis

Chapter 1310 The outcome is still unclear
In the table tennis hall, the crisp sound of "bang bang bang" of the ball hitting the ball echoed.

The white ball drew sharp arcs on the blue table, and each collision made a loud sound, forming a series of echoes in the enclosed space.

Lin Hui bent his waist, with his legs slightly apart, maintaining a perfect ready posture.

His eyes were fixed on every subtle movement of his opponent, and beads of sweat on his forehead rolled down his cheeks.

It was another fierce smash. There was a crisp "pop" sound when the racket collided with the ball, and the ball flew towards the opponent's table at an astonishing speed.

The opponent was equally unwilling to be outdone. He made a beautiful sideways move to give way and then hit a tricky diagonal ball with his backhand.

The moment the racket touched the ball, there was another crisp "bang".

Just like that, one sound after another, the rhythm became faster and faster, and the battle became more and more intense.

The spectators on the sidelines held their breath, and only the sound of the balls hitting the target echoed in the stadium.

Lin Hui felt that his heartbeat was almost drowning out the sound of hitting the ball, and sweat had already soaked through the sports shirt on the back.

Each of his return shots was accompanied by a sound of breaking through the air, while his opponent's return shots were equally powerful.

The two people moved quickly between the two ends of the table, and the friction between the soles of their shoes and the floor rubber made a "squeaking" sound.

Finally, the opponent's player suddenly exerted force in the last lap, rushing up like an arrow, getting closer and closer to Lin Hui.

There was a deafening cheer from the stands, and the commentator's voice changed with excitement: "Oh my God! This is an amazing reversal!" This really surprised Lin Hui, who had been leading for most of the game. He never expected that his opponent had such explosive power.

But Lin Hui is a veteran after all.

He took a deep breath, quickly adjusted his breathing rhythm, and fixed his eyes on the finish line.

The whistling of the wind in his ears and the crazy shouts of the audience seemed to have faded away, and the only thing left in his world was the red line in front of him that represented victory.

The veins on his clenched fist were slightly bulging, but there was no sign of trembling.

His calmness, despite the danger of a catastrophe, is the result of his many years of experience in the arena.

Next, the opponent serves.

He threw the ball high up, and at the moment the ball fell, the racket cut it at a clever angle.

The ball went over the net with great spin.

Lin Hui's eyes flashed, and he quickly determined the trajectory of the ball. He took a step forward and hit the ball with his racket at a perfect angle. "Bang!" It was another wonderful serve return, and the game continued.

Lin Hui's return ball was like a silver lightning, heading straight for the opponent's dead corner at the baseline.

The opponent obviously did not expect that he could resolve this tricky serve so accurately, and could only fight back reluctantly in a hurry.

The ball bounced high and drew an arc. Lin Hui seized the opportunity, jumped into the air without hesitation, and swung his arm down like a whip.

The opponent pressed the tennis ball seven times repeatedly. This habitual action made Lin Hui narrow his eyes.

He suddenly remembered the data circled in red in the training log: when a player serves from the outside corner of the second zone under pressure, there is a 3.2% chance of a double fault.

"boom!"

The speed of the ball was 12 km/h faster than expected.

Lin Hui's right shoulder muscles tensed instantly, and the racket tore a silver arc in the air. He received the serve and drew a big diagonal line straight to the opponent's backhand, but the opponent seemed to be prepared, and stretched his body completely with a slide, and the return ball hit the baseline with a strong topspin.

Lin Hui felt a needle-like warning coming from his calf muscles. The 18 consecutive beats made the edges of his vision begin to turn white, but a certain cold sense of clarity spread deep in his brain.

He noticed that his opponent would unconsciously move his center of gravity toward his left foot for 0.3 seconds before each hit, a flaw that the data analyst with round-frame glasses had repeatedly emphasized at the video analysis meeting three days ago.

When his opponent showed that subtle sign again, Lin Hui suddenly changed the way he gripped the racket.

His backhand slice made the ball fly at a 37° angle!
The opponent's playing speed dropped by 15 kilometers per hour.

Lin Hui sensed an opportunity the moment he received the serve. His forehand was as precise as a scalpel, and the sound of the tennis ball hitting the strings was like a bullet being loaded.

When his opponent was forced to come to the net, he premeditatedly hit an overhead high ball, a move he had repeatedly practiced during yesterday's warm-up. The parabola it drew was so perfect that it was heart-pounding.

Lin Hui's sweat dripped down his eyelashes onto his nose bridge, and he tasted the salty, metallic taste. In the first zone, he chose the most risky close pursuit shot, but the sudden tremor of his fingertips when throwing the ball reduced the rotation by 17 turns.

The tennis ball hit the net heavily, and just before it fell,

A sudden crosswind.

The ball that should have been out of bounds strangely flipped over the net.

The opponent's save was therefore 0.5 seconds slower, and the return ball bounced high into midfield.

Lin Hui heard a crisp sound from a bone in his spine, and his whole body flew into the air like a fully drawn bow.

The moment the racket face touched the ball, years of morning and evening training, countless nights of ice packs, and training plans wrinkled by sweat were all compressed into the power of this diving smash.

The tennis ball rolled out of bounds and finally stopped at the junction of sunlight and shadow.

Lin Hui fell on his back on the blue-green field, feeling the temperature of the plastic on his back, which was scorched by the scorching sun.

The lights in the dome blurred into blurry balls of light in his sight, just like the ceiling lights that were distorted by his tears when he was crying in the locker room on that stormy night.

The cheers from the stands receded like the tide. He raised his arm to block the glaring light and found that his forearm muscles were still twitching unconsciously.

At a certain moment, he remembered the dull pain left on his palm by the wooden racket frame when the provincial team coach threw the racket to him and said "take it".

Then the ping-pong ball came flying with a suspicious spinning trajectory, and Lin Hui determined within 0.3 seconds that it was a flat shot disguised as side spin.

When he pushed off the ground, he felt a familiar stinging pain in his old left knee injury, but this signal made his backhand cut even more fierce.

The moment the ball hit the net, he saw his opponent's pupils suddenly shrink, and the man habitually left his forehand open when he intercepted the ball in front of the net.

Lin Hui's temples were throbbing and his eardrums were resonating with his heartbeat.

He noticed that his opponent was half a beat slower than usual in adjusting his wrist guard, and that his serve toss was at least 15 centimeters lower than the standard.

These numbers were automatically converted into probabilities in his mind: a 72% chance of serving to the backhand, with a topspin intensity of about 2800 rpm.

At the moment of receiving the serve, a cold intuition suddenly pierced my mind.

Lin Hui temporarily changed the way he held the racket, with his wrist bent inward at an unconventional angle.

The racket made a dull sound when it touched the ball, and the tennis ball drew a zigzag line that violated common sense of physics. This was a "snake ball" that he had practiced privately 1347 times. The rubber particles bounced irregularly with super topspin.

The opponent's racket brushed past the tennis ball. Lin Hui heard the roar from the stands suddenly cut off, and the only thing left in the world was the thundering heartbeat in his chest.

"boom!"

The opponent's opening serve hit the corner like a cannonball, and Lin Hui's sneakers made a harsh friction sound when he stopped suddenly.

The moment he hit back with his backhand, he felt a tearing pain in his right shoulder blade, which was a hidden injury left from last week's training.

But at this moment, the pain became the clearest coordinate, making every inch of his muscles tense precisely to the best hitting state. Lin Hui suddenly changed the rhythm, he deliberately hit a short ball, and when he saw his opponent rushing forward in embarrassment, the racket drew a hasty arc in the air.

This tactic came to me on a whim while watching a video late last night. When the opponent's physical strength is declining in the third game, his judgment of the ball in front of the net will be delayed by 0.5 seconds.

The moment Lin Hui clenched his fist, he found that his palms were covered with fine bloodstains.

The sound from the audience surged in like a tide, but he could only hear the throbbing sound of his own temple.

This game has already got two break points, but it is also the most dangerous moment. The opponent often bursts out with amazing counterattack power in desperate situations.

At the critical moment, Lin Hui chose the most risky way. He stood two meters away from the baseline, which was the most unexpected receiving position for the opponent.

When the tennis ball came whistling, he leaned back like a fully drawn bow and chopped down with the racket at a nearly vertical angle - "Swish!" The tennis ball rolled past the net and left a strange snake-like trajectory on the opponent's court.

The opponent fell down while making a save, and his knee pads left long black marks on the ground.

Lin Hui did not cheer, but walked back to the baseline in silence. He counted his breaths, feeling the burning pain in his lungs. The game was not over yet, and he needed to stay absolutely focused. Sweat flowed down his brow into his eyes, blurring the whole world.

Lin Hui’s serve was taught by his first coach when he was on the provincial team.

This discovery caused his movements to lag by 0.1 seconds, and his serve power suddenly weakened by three points. The opponent seized the opportunity to attack fiercely, and the tennis ball shuttled back and forth like a bullet.

But he remembered what his coach said: "When your body reaches its limit, that's when the real game begins." He bit his tongue, and the smell of blood cleared his mind again.

A fake move deceives the opponent, and the ball suddenly released in front of the net is as light as a feather.

The opponent's desperate diving save was half a beat too late.

When the tennis ball hit the ground for the second time, Lin Hui heard a crisp "click" sound from a bone in his spine.

He knelt on his knees, not because he was tired, but to kiss the place that held all his dreams.

Sweat dripped onto the blue plastic, spreading out into tiny dark dots.

“Game! Lin Hui!”

The referee's voice seemed to come from the clouds.

The sharp whistling sound caused by the friction between the rubber surface of the table tennis racket and the ball pierced the air. Lin Hui's right arm muscles suddenly twitched, and the white ball with a strange side spin bounced off the edge of the table, leaving a scarlet OUT track on the LED floor screen.

The lines on Lin Hui's right palm, which was supporting the table, were covered in cold sweat.

While playing, the opposing player adjusted his stance.

Toss the ball, turn, and tighten your abdomen.

When the white ball hit the opponent's forehand corner at a speed of 2870 rpm, a familiar burning pain came from the right shoulder ligament.

The opponent's pupils suddenly contracted.

He stepped aside half a step, his racket drawing a silver crescent in the sunlight, and with a textbook forehand drive, he blasted the ball into Lin Hui's backhand corner.

The ping-pong ball drew a sharp white light on the dark green table, and with a crisp "pop" sound, the sound of the racket and the ball colliding was particularly crisp in the gymnasium.

The strands of hair on Lin Hui's forehead were soaked with sweat. He stared at the opponent's movements and determined the landing point the moment the opponent served.

“10:9!” The sound of the scoreboard flipping made the audience hold their breath.

Lin Hui's coach clenched his fists, and the fans in the stands stood up at the same time.

At this match point, this decisive moment, the air seemed to freeze.

The opponent's serve had a strange spin, and the trajectory of the ball bouncing off the table suddenly changed direction.

Lin Hui rushed forward, and his racket barely reached the ball at the last moment, and the return ball hit the net and flew towards the opponent's table.

The audience burst into exclamations, and the opposing player pounced on the net like a cheetah. With a beautiful lob, the ping-pong ball flew in a high arc over Lin Hui's head.

Lin Hui retreated quickly, and the friction between the soles of his shoes and the floor made a harsh sound.

He tilted his head back and stretched his arms backwards as hard as he could, and the racket was less than a centimeter away from touching the ball.

The ping-pong ball fell to the corner of the table with a "thump". The opposing player clenched his fist and roared, while Lin Hui maintained the posture of saving the ball, with sweat dripping down his chin onto the table.

There was deathly silence in the stadium at first, and then it broke out into deafening applause and sighs.

The fight for the decisive point, the peak showdown between these two world-class players, was about to come to a breathtaking end at this moment.

Lin Hui slowly straightened up, his chest heaving violently and sweat streaming down his cheeks.

He looked at his cheering opponent and a hint of unwillingness flashed across his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure.

He took a deep breath, raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and nodded to his opponent.

It was just a little bit short, Lin Hui pulled the corner of his mouth and showed a bitter smile.

The rotation of the ball, the judgment at that moment, the movement of that step, any change in detail may rewrite the outcome.

In the audience, some people cheered and some sighed.

Lin Hui's fans were still shouting his name and waving their cheering signs.

He waved to the stands and forced a smile, but he felt like a stone was pressing on his heart.

He had a chance to win this game, but competitive sports are like this, victory or defeat is often decided by a hair's breadth.

Lin Hui and the opposing player cheered up, and the ping-pong balls made thumping sounds.

On both sides of the table, two people had sharp eyes and moved quickly.

Lin Hui flicked his wrist, and the ball drew a sharp arc, heading straight for the opponent's backhand corner.

The opponent was not willing to be outdone and made a sideways counter-attack, with the ball returning like lightning.

In the audience, shouts rang out one after another, and the tense atmosphere almost froze.

Lin Hui took a deep breath and his eyes became more focused.

He saw the right moment and suddenly hit a high loop, with the ball spinning strangely in the air. His opponent responded hastily and returned the ball slightly higher.

Right now! Lin Hui suddenly jumped up and dunked!
"Bang!" The ping-pong ball hit the table heavily and then bounced away.

The audience was silent for a moment, and then broke into thunderous applause.

Lin Hui clenched his fists and a smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

On the other side, the opponent wiped his sweat and stared at the ball intently.

11:9
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