The third game began amid extreme clamor outside the court and extreme silence within it.
Chinese table tennis players had fought countless domestic battles in international competitions over the years. Players from the same country meeting in the final had practically become routine, so once a tournament reached its final stage, not only did the spectators relax, but even the players themselves did as well.
Because most players had never intended to take everything. Once they had completed the task assigned by Chinese table tennis, they generally let up by at least thirty percent.
What remained was an internal team battle, carrying something of a "friendship first, competition second" flavor.
Finals fought in this domestic-battle format were usually entertaining because both sides would play with flair, almost like an exhibition match. Especially in less important tournaments, they would tacitly bring out all those fancy tricks from training, drawing cheers from the stands. It helped promote table tennis and gave them a few highlights for their top-ten compilations.
But today's match was exceptionally serious, even more serious than an international matchup.
Sun Tianlong wanted to take it all. Luo Jiu wanted to snatch food from a tiger's jaws.
The little Asian Cup was held once a year and was considered a low-tier event among international tournaments, yet today's final was being played as if it were an Olympic Games final.
Neither player used any remotely flashy techniques. Their play was extremely plain, and every movement had a purpose.
Yet even though they tried to keep things simple, reaching a level where great skill appeared clumsy, the match still looked extraordinarily thrilling to the audience.
Because the speed, power, and spin of the ball through the air could not be faked. Its large-scale changes of direction could not be faked. Neither could