131 WOODLEIGH’S – Smashing Table Tennis

WOODLEIGH'S SMASHING TABLE TENNIS

WORDS BY GARY KNOX | PHOTOS BY DOUG PELL

I'm a possum. My ancestors and I have lived in the penthouse of the Woodleigh Hall for nearly 100 years. It's the most exclusive address in town. Main street, second storey, glorious views. The world from Woodleigh's only high rise apartment has changed enormously since our residency began.

Initially it was jinkers and carts, kids walking to school and mobs of cattle being driven to markets by riders on horseback. We've seen send-off's for soldiers going to war. We've seen cabarets and dancing, kitchen teas for the soon to be married, cricket club fund raisers, and school presentation nights. Kids at functions guarantees delicious and ample leftovers.

We've seen the paperbark and swamp gums bulldozed, replaced with rye and clover. We heard the arrival of the steam and passenger trains, the motorised trucks carrying milk cans, the arrival of Italian immigrants in the fifties, the Jersey cows replaced by Friesians.......the demise of the church, the closure of the general store, the school and the railway station.

We celebrated when they connected electricity to our penthouse. The overhead wire gave us another avenue of escape from the neighbour's cat and farmer's kelpie.

They came to vote, they came to play badminton, Landcare sessions, casserole teas, the annual Cup sweep. The homely ladies of the Red Cross and the C.W.A would torment us with firstly their cooking smells, then their tidiness.

The last thirty years have been pretty quiet. Leftovers became a memory. "Peaceful retreat and renovators delight" would have been the Real Estate agents terminology. Fast cars and huge milk tankers became our only entertainment, and danger. Our landlords might have considered the "bulldozer and the bonfire", saved only on the basis that our abode is the last public relic of the Woodleigh town.

Now the good citizens of Woodleigh and surrounding towns have rediscovered table tennis. Those "raucous buggers" invade every Tuesday night during Winter. Invariably, they apologise to our human neighbours for their rowdy and exuberant behaviour. They don't apologise to us. Their excitement and enthusiasm is our volcanic disturbance that scares the Richter scale.

It's getting worse. Their playing numbers are now fifteen or more, they invite fellow table tennis teams from Wonthaggi, Monday nights the girls smash it out, the Yarroweyah Football Club sends them messages of encouragement, some players turn up for practice on any old day.

In the beginning they brought wine and cheese. The crumbs and spillage was some consolation for us and our downstairs residential rodents. But now they come to play. For two hours they serve, and spin and direct the ping pong ball to advantage. They delight in a winning shot, or the ball that clips the edge of the table and flies off on an unplayable tangent. They smugly apologize for the ball that catches the tape, then grows legs to clamber over. Smashing good fun. Younger days revisited.

Their enthusiasm is boundless. They further limit and restrict our nocturnal activities with their after match chat and friendship. Woodleigh table tennis has put purpose into the century old Hall. Politicians and the Shire have invested money in renovations. More disruption to our cosy nest. A public Hall saved only by intergenerational farming families and some committed recent arrivals. They proudly host "The Woodleigh Farmers and Pizza Lovers" table tennis teams.

The Woodleigh Hall celebrates its 100th birthday in December 2021.