Not to be dramatic, but Chuqin's game lately has been... giving "main character stuck in the filler episodes." His serves, which were once precise missiles, are now erratic, especially against opponents with tactical variation, and his previously powerful forehand counter-loops feel more like hesitant taps. What's the tea?
Ever finished a big project and felt totally drained? That's probably Wang right now. Athletes often hit a down phase after major events like the Olympics, which is a mix of physical exhaustion and mental burnout. Think of lack of motivation, loss of concentration, or even just wanting to ghost everyone for a month—it’s a real thing.
CTTA, seriously, I guess they’re playing a game of “let’s see how far we can push WCQ.” Since the Olympics, Wang's been bouncing between non-stop events carousel, including Macao Champions, China Smash (where he snagged the men’s doubles title), Asian Table Tennis Championships (led the team to defend their men’s team title), Frankfurt Champions, and others. Even after asking for a break, the man barely had time to catch his breath. And not to mention his unprecedented workload over the years leading up to Paris—he's been the first table tennis player to simultaneously compete in singles, doubles, team, and mixed doubles at the same time. In a sense, Wang's been running a marathon that never ends.
The Mixed Doubles Obsession: Ever since China lost the mixed doubles gold medal at the Tokyo Olympics, the pressure for Paris has been through the roof. Between the coach‘s dramatic statements like “I would trade my life for that gold medal” and the relentless scrutiny of the Chinese sports system, Wang’s been bearing a heavy burden for years.
The Racket Incident: This one still blows my mind. Right after winning gold in mixed doubles in Paris, Wang’s racket was accidentally broken 🔫 by a photojournalist. On the court. During the world-class event. No apology, no investigation, no public explanation, no nothing. 🔫 And surprise, surprise, he lost in singles the very next day. If this sounds like a plot twist in a sports drama, you're not alone. The lack of follow-up feels more suspicious than a perfectly placed drop shot.
If I were Wang, I’d have a hard time trusting my team or surroundings after all this. And who could blame him?
Earlier this year, Wang has battled mysterious body pain. According to a CNT documentary, it was brushed off as something he just had to “push through” until he was finally diagnosed with a cervical spine issue near the end of the Olympics (Check out my other post for the details.) Proper treatment followed, and while the team doctor claims he’s 80% recovered, “80%” in athletic terms could mean anything from “good to go” to “barely hanging on.” It’s hard not to wonder if this is still affecting his game.
And when you thought it couldn't get any more complicated, Wang is under fire in China for not winning the gold in singles—despite WINNING TWO GOLD MEDALS. In the world of extreme sports patriotism, apparently, not all gold is created equal. Add to that the rumors that he was being stalked in Beijing... Can we all just agree to let the man live his life?
‣ The Human Behind the Athlete
At the end of the day, Wang isn't just a ping-pong machine. He's a human navigating an incredibly complex athletic ecosystem, where every serve, every point, and every breath is scrutinized like a high-stakes chess match.
Despite everything, this is Wang Chuqin. If anyone can bounce back, it's him. He is too talented and resilient to stay down for long. What he needs is a proper break—not the “here’s two days, now get back to the table” nonsense.
To the critics: sit down. He's achieved more in the last few years than most athletes dream of in a lifetime.
Stay tuned, table tennis fans. This story is far from over.