— An Exclusive Interview with Wang Chuqin by Table Tennis World (Special Issue, Feb 2025)
On New Year’s Day 2025, Wang Chuqin secured victory in the China Table Tennis Super League (CTTSL) finals. The 2024 season finale was unique, stretching across the new year, making this win both the last of 2024 and the first of 2025. After a brief pause in celebration, Wang threw his head back and roared.
“That moment brought back so many memories,” Wang said. Those “memories” encompassed a whirlwind of experiences and emotions from 2024. After the outburst, Wang’s thoughts returned to the match.“ After his outburst, Wang’s thoughts shifted back to the game. “I was overwhelmed. I had been longing for this victory for so long. I don’t think my reaction was over the top. It was just a release of everything I’d been holding in. I’m really glad I could let it out, and I hope this release, this mindset, and my current competitive form carry into 2025.”
The year 2024 was anything but ordinary, marked most notably by the Paris Olympics. Wang went through “couldn’t be more detailed” closed training, relentless early-morning drills that were “always centered around mixed doubles,“ the matches that “kept getting harder,” fought through exhausting battles and won matches “purely on grit.” Over the year, he tasted glory, experienced helplessness, pulled himself out of slumps, and made adjustments. Reflecting on it all, he felt that “compared to my former self, I’ve grown significantly in every aspect“ as he entered 2025.
What changed? Wang answered firmly: “Acceptance. Accepting criticism and unfavorable comments. Even with my flaws and shortcomings, I will still step onto the court and fight as my best self.”
When asked to recall his best, worst, and most memorable moments of 2024, Wang Chuqin, known for his vivid storytelling, replied: “The worst was when Coach Xiao showed me my paddle had completely broken after someone stepped on it. I felt helpless and completely devastated. The best moment was the WTT Finals in Fukuoka. Ever since the Olympics, Coach Wang Hao had been reassuring me, believing in me, but I kept losing matches. Finally, in the Fukuoka finals, I stood my ground. It felt like I could finally repay all the trust he had in me.”
No Room for Luck
The Only Thought in the Final Was “Win”
TTW: You won China’s first-ever Olympic mixed doubles gold. Looking back, the level of preparation must stand out, right?
Wang Chuqin: It couldn’t have been more meticulous. During closed training, we prepared for every possible challenge and opponent. We even had at least five or six dedicated training sessions specifically for playing against opponents using long-pip rubber.
TTW: How did you feel the day before the Olympics began?
Wang Chuqin: Nervous and excited. I just hoped I’d be in good form when the time came.
TTW: You’ve played mixed doubles for years, won countless titles, and experienced both brilliant and grueling moments. But when facing the Olympics, did all that experience still feel insufficient?
Wang Chuqin: Absolutely. Many things seemed out of my control—the ball, the atmosphere, the physical and mental exhaustion. Everything was different from what I had imagined.
TTW: You played four matches en route to gold. How did each of the first three feel?
Wang Chuqin: The first match didn’t feel special because it went smoothly and I played well. But from the second match onward, everything became more difficult than expected. The matches got tougher and tougher, and I was basically grinding my way through.
After surviving the quarterfinals, I thought the experience might make the next rounds easier. But the semifinals still had us trailing at one point. Winning that match made me realize I couldn’t rely on luck anymore. I expected the final to be a tough battle, especially against the North Korean pair, who were incredibly “spirited.” My strongest feeling was gratitude for our team’s collective effort. During closed training, we prepared for every possible challenge.
When facing the North Korean pair, whom we had never played before, I wasn’t “scared” as an athlete, but I did feel a little awkward. Still, we were fully prepared for their long-pip style. At that moment, all those “painful experiences“ in training felt completely worthwhile.
TTW: In the final, with Team China’s first-ever Olympic mixed doubles gold on the line, how do you think you performed?
Wang Chuqin: To be honest, from the quarterfinals against Lin Yun-ju/Chen Szu-yu to the semifinals against Lim Jonghoon/Shin Yubin, I wasn’t at my best. I got distracted at times and even found myself relying on luck. My performance was below my usual mixed doubles standard. In those two matches, Shasha (Sun Yingsha) was incredibly steady. But in the final, I think I did okay. I played freely, completely immersed in the match, fighting for every point. Nothing else was in my mind on the court—just one thought: win.
TTW: What was the most crucial moment of the match?
Wang Chuqin: Definitely 8–8 in the sixth game. That was the turning point of the entire final. Both sides were playing their best. Kim Kum Yong hit a netball that almost dropped off the table, but I managed to save it, and Shasha followed up with a straight-line shot. That point was huge. It gave us the lead at a critical moment and ultimately helped us secure the win.
TTW: We saw from the live broadcast that you were smiling brightly after winning. How would you describe that feeling in your own words?
Wang Chuqin: At that moment, I was overwhelmed with emotion. My eyes were even a little wet. I thought about how, over the years, I had competed in all three events, never neglecting any of them. However, mixed doubles was my first step onto the Olympic stage. Winning mixed doubles gave me more opportunities and helped me grow in singles and team events later.
I also reflected on all those years of closed training, during which I focused primarily on mixed doubles, dedicating more time and effort to it than to anything else. Even all my early-morning practices were built around a mixed doubles strategy. At that moment, so many memories flooded my mind.
A Night Consumed by Worry The Match
I Had to Push Through Even If It “Killed” Me
TTW: Competing in all three events at the Olympics—singles, doubles, and mixed doubles—was there a significant difference in the physical and mental demands compared to previous tournaments?
Wang Chuqin: Yes, there is. In fact, during the final warm-up matches at our closed training camp in Chengdu, my shoulder was already in unbearable pain. I had to return to Beijing for an immediate cortisone shot, followed by a few days of rest. But even after arriving in Deauville for training, nothing improved. The pain persisted throughout the roughly 10-day acclimatization training. Then, when the Olympic singles draw came out, I saw that my first-round opponent was Wang Yang, a defensive chopper. Both Coach Xiao and I were just… devastated. My arm hurt so much I could barely lift it, and I couldn’t even loop against the backspin with my forehand. Maybe I could have managed against an attacking player, but drawing a chopper? That felt like a cruel joke from fate.
TTW: What emergency treatments did you take at that time?
Wang Chuqin: I focused on physical therapy and strengthening exercises. I was on painkillers for half a month, trying both regular and stronger ones. It wasn’t until the day before my first match that I felt even slightly better—just enough to play.
TTW: Dealing with an injury on top of the mental pressure of the Olympics must have been overwhelming.
Wang Chuqin: It really was. Even though I’m used to competing in all three events at a tournament, I never expected the Olympics to feel like this. Honestly, even after playing all my matches at the World Championships, I had never felt this level of exhaustion.
After mixed doubles, my physical and mental state seemed to reach a breaking point. The strain on my arm was far worse than I had imagined. It severely affected my forehand. The night mixed doubles ended, and I was stuck in this weird emotional state—happy yet filled with worry. After the team meeting and treatment session, I finally returned to my room around 12:30 AM. My singles match was scheduled for 10 AM the following day, which meant I had to leave by 7 AM. I had no idea how my arm would feel when I woke up. The joy of winning mixed doubles was completely overshadowed by my overwhelming concern.
TTW: How did you feel walking off the court after that singles match?
Wang Chuqin: Of course, I was disappointed after losing, but not as much as I was later, when the “delayed reaction” hit me after returning home from the Olympics. I still had team matches ahead at the time, so there was no time to dwell on it. I had to shake it off, do everything I could to minimize the impact of my injury and try to be in better shape for the team event.
TTW: How did you prepare mentally and physically for the team event?
Wang Chuqin: Even in the first match of the team event, I didn’t feel great. But the next day, out of nowhere, things started improving. By the quarterfinals against Team South Korea, the pain had eased significantly.
TTW: When did you feel most comfortable during the team matches?
Wang Chuqin: I can’t say I ever really did. I played two matches in each round, and while my doubles matches went really well—especially the four doubles matches with Brother Long (Ma Long), which were close to perfect—every singles match felt like a struggle. Maybe because I had lost in singles earlier, I wasn’t as confident playing alone as when I had Ma Long beside me. Doubts lingered, and shadows hung over my game.
TTW: How did you break through those “shadows”?
Wang Chuqin: There wasn’t really any other way besides forcing myself to get motivated. (By holding onto the thought of winning for the team?) Yeah, I had to push through even if it “killed” me.
From Struggles to a Positive New Beginning
TTW: How did it feel standing on the podium as team champion?
Wang Chuqin: It felt like I had finally completed my mission. As I said after the match, I didn’t want to touch a ping-pong paddle for a while. Even after returning to competition, that feeling stuck with me.
After the Olympics, a lot changed. Table tennis gained significant attention as a sport, and public opinion grew louder. Even though I usually don’t pay much attention to that, I still “heard” what people were saying. I’d find out I was trending on Weibo without even checking.
TTW: How did those outside voices impact you?
Wang Chuqin: They gradually changed my mindset. For the first time, I started feeling fear. At first, I hadn’t resumed systematic training and just wanted to take a break. Losing to Lin Shidong in the Macao Champions semifinal felt normal. But then, at the China Smash, I really wanted to perform well, yet I lost to a foreign opponent. That’s when my mentality started spiraling. When I desperately wanted to play well, I started fearing my opponents. I wasn’t myself anymore—hesitant, timid, distracted by too many thoughts.
TTW: Was it like a wake-up call?
Wang Chuqin: I think every athlete wants to adjust as quickly as possible when they hit a slump. I’ve seen many players around me have struggled for a long time before finding their way back. No matter how long it takes, we all share the urgency to find a way out. I was afraid of sinking even more profoundly.
TTW: With back-to-back tournaments and barely any time to step back, plus the pressure from both yourself and public expectations creating a “double squeeze,” how did you manage to adjust?
Wang Chuqin: I have to thank Chairman Liu, Coach Wang Hao, Coach Xiao, and my family and friends. They encouraged me and helped guide me back. After the Olympics, I was in a really negative place. I couldn’t get into my matches, and even regular training felt meaningless. I didn’t know why I was even playing anymore. I kept thinking I’d already won these tournaments before, but I still lost in Paris. So what’s the point of competing again in tournaments I’ve already won?
Through conversations with my coaches and friends, I realized that each tournament is actually a brand-new challenge. To keep improving, I must stay in good form and fight for results. Once I step onto the court, I should give it everything I have because every match brings experience and growth.
That also applies to how I view public opinion. I’ve come to understand that as long as my mindset stays positive and proactive, no amount of outside noise can shake me. So I don’t pay attention to it anymore. I’m in a much better place now with starting fresh. I believe I can stay focused and not be affected by distractions. At the end of the day, what truly shapes public opinion isn’t anything else—it’s me (my own performance speaks for itself).
Maintaining a Healthy Mindset and Repaying the Trust in Me
TTW: In the past, when you faced criticism, your response was to prove yourself on the court. Now that outside voices no longer affect you, has this mindset toward proving yourself changed?
Wang Chuqin: Yes. I accept criticism and unfavorable reviews. Even with my flaws and shortcomings, I will still step onto the court and fight as my best self.
I no longer feel the need to prove anything to anyone. The only thing that matters is pushing myself to achieve better results in my career. I’m not playing table tennis to respond to what others say. My goal is to bring glory to my country and chase my own dreams. Accepting whatever happens on the court is the only way to avoid mentally draining myself. Keeping a healthy mindset is crucial for me.
TTW: Looking back at 2024, a year filled with all kinds of emotions, what were your worst and best memories?
Wang Chuqin: The worst was when Coach Xiao showed me my paddle completely broken after someone stepped on it. I felt helpless and completely devastated. I had never heard of something like that happening before, and I couldn’t understand why it had to happen to me. Logically, my mindset shouldn’t have been affected by it, but in that moment, it really got to me.
As for the “best” memory, the first thing that comes to mind is the WTT Finals in Fukuoka. Ever since the Olympics, Coach Wang Hao had been reassuring me, believing in me, but I kept losing matches. Finally, in the Fukuoka finals, I stood my ground. It felt like I could finally repay all the trust he had in me.
TTW: 2025 is a fresh start, a new Olympic cycle, and a new beginning. What are your expectations and goals for yourself?
Wang Chuqin: During the upcoming winter training, I’ll focus on building up both my physical and mental reserves to prepare for the competitions in 2025. What I expect and require from myself is simple: to maintain a healthy mindset and a positive attitude every time I step on the court.
(Author: Chen Sijing | Photos: Bian Yushan, Xinhua News, WTT)
Source: @Yeeopuuo椰耶酱 – 微博
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