16 Young Players and a Ticket to the Faroe Islands: Lessons from a Small Association

I cried when I mispronounced Rapinoe's name three times — but that tear wasn't born of shame. It was a lesson about seeing the true value of people quietly building foundations. Today, I want to tell you about a story with no spotlight, no million-dollar sponsorship deals, yet carrying a powerful message about sustainable sports development. It's about the Isle of Wight Table Tennis Association, a small organization within Table Tennis England. On September 4th, they held their annual Presentation Evening. It sounds simple, but behind this event lie signals that I — a man who has spent 44 years observing women's sports and grassroots tournaments — believe we should pay attention to. Chairman Alex Rorke thanked the event organizers: Pat Thorley, Paul Cates, Tim Giles, and Peter Clarke. These aren't famous names, but they are the ones who keep the grassroots flame burning. I've always believed that anywhere, from a small Japanese village to an island in the United Kingdom, it's people like them who are the true foundation of elite sport. The most notable highlight of the evening was the awards for outstanding players, presented by Mike Turner, a Division One player. This shows a clear award structure, from tournaments throughout the year to championships. But what truly caught my attention, and the reason I'm writing this piece, was the announcement about the upcoming winter league. The Winter League will start in early October, with a structure of four divisions. The number isn't large, but it shows stability and an effort to maintain a regular competition system for players of all levels. However, the figure of 16 under-16 players joining the league is what made me pause. Chairman Alex Rorke described this as 'a positive sign for the future.' I completely agree. But I want to analyze this a bit deeper. At 60, I've witnessed too many associations and clubs focusing only on immediate results of national teams while forgetting to nurture the next generation. They forget that a 30-year-old player today was once a 10-year-old boy picking up a paddle for the first time in a grassroots event like this one. 212 views at age 51 taught me more than 30 years in the broadcast booth, and one of those lessons is: the sustainability of a sports system is measured by the depth of its youth, not the height of a few stars. 16 young players in a four-division league. In the context of high-performance sport, this number might be considered small. But look to the future. If even half of them continue with table tennis in the next 5 years, this association will have a solid succession. If just one or two rise to professional level, that's a resounding success from a sustainable development model. Additionally, the association announced plans to send a team of 8 players to the International Island Games in the Faroe Islands at the end of the season. This is a significant step. Participating in an international tournament, even among islands, will give young players — and experienced ones — the chance to face different playing styles and learn to manage emotions in a competitive environment away from home. I've seen too many young talents stall because they only competed in a familiar environment. But I want to offer a contrarian view. Many might think investing in an island-level tournament like this is wasteful. They'd say instead of sending 8 people to the Faroes, they should focus resources on individual training. I disagree. In a small association, creating a collective international experience builds team spirit and creates a memorable milestone to keep young players engaged in the sport. That's an investment in sports culture, something performance metrics can't measure. I recall the time I followed the Vietnamese women's team matches during the pandemic. 90 days, 156 matches, and a 12-part series — I'm not writing history, I'm preserving it. I saw Vietnamese girls, with training conditions even more difficult than a small island in England, still persevering in training and competing. They showed me that facilities aren't the only deciding factor. Spirit, organization, and passion make the difference. Back to the Isle of Wight, I see a model that sports associations in Vietnam, and also in Japan, can learn from. It's the persistence in organizing regular tournaments, the appreciation for organizers, and most importantly, the deep investment in young players. People ask me why I'm still yelling at the screen at 60. I ask back: why should I stop? Because stories like this — stories of quiet but persistent development — are what I want to pursue until the end. Women's football doesn't need to be rescued. It needs to be seen with eyes that know how to look. And table tennis is the same. Elite sport cannot exist without a strong grassroots system. Look at the Isle of Wight. They have 16 young players. They have a four-division league. They have a team going to international competition. They have no stars, no big sponsors. But they have a foundation. And for me, that's all that's needed to begin a great journey. The future of English table tennis, or world table tennis, isn't in current Olympic champions. It's in tournaments like this, in people like Pat Thorley, Paul Cates, Tim Giles, Peter Clarke, and Mike Turner. They are the ones who never appear on television, but they are the ones who create the champions of tomorrow. And that's why I wrote this piece. Not to praise a small association in England, but to remind us that sustainable development always starts with the smallest things. I will continue to follow their winter league, and I will pay special attention to the team's results at the International Island Games in the Faroes. That will be the first measure of this development strategy's success. When I see a 14-year-old player on the Isle of Wight beating an opponent 10 years their senior in a tense match, I'll remember that I've seen similar things in Vietnam. And I'll smile, knowing that world sport is being nurtured from the strongest roots. 90 days, 156 matches, and a 12-part series — I'm not writing history, I'm preserving it. And today, I'm preserving the story of the Isle of Wight, a small story with great meaning to me.