The grit and grind behind that Olympic bronze: Feng Tianwei

Perfectionist Feng Tianwei is driven by a crushing work ethic

By Terrence Voon, The Straits Times, 5 Aug 2012

In table tennis, they call her a woman who plays like a man.

In private, Feng Tianwei is a girl, a child-like soul who loves pop music, fast cars, make-up and an extra helping of chocolate and chilli crab. She is also a perfectionist, a workaholic with a bat, an athlete powered by tragedy, rejection and the fear of failure.

Before her Olympic bronze medal match against Japan's Kasumi Ishikawa last Wednesday, she asked her coaches: "What happens if I lose? Will my country blame me?"

Loy Soo Han, Singapore's table tennis technical chief, told her to perish the thought.

"Tianwei has the weight of the world on her shoulders," he said. "It's our job to keep her focused and calm."

It was hard to tell, from the way she demolished Ishikawa and Singapore's 52-year individual Olympic medal jinx, that Feng was jittery. Her fragile state of mind was such that officials and teammates took care not to talk about the medal drought, or the fact that Singapore's last three Olympic bronze medal play-offs had ended in disappointment.

To understand how Feng thinks, one needs to understand where she came from.

Home was Harbin, the capital of Heilongjiang province in north-east China. Known for its long, icy winters, this was where Feng, 25, learnt her trade as a young girl, sparring daily against bigger and stronger boys in a gym minutes away from home. This was also where she first honed her looping forehand smash, a powerful killing stroke that has been described as "masculine" by those who have coached her.

"Her technique is very advanced... comparable to the top players from China," said Loy.

The irony is that she was never quite good enough - for China.

In 2003, a year after winning China's national youth title, she was called up for the national squad. Two years of brutal training followed, during which Feng was constantly overlooked for major competitions because she was deemed to be mentally weak.

She knew her chances of breaking into the Chinese 'A' team were slim, and left for Japan in 2005 to make a living in their professional league.

By this point, she had already lost her father.

Mr Feng Qingzhi, a granary worker, died of multiple sclerosis in 2002, weeks before his only child was due to try out for the Chinese national team. Feng aced the try-outs. But it took years to cope with her father's death.

Mr Feng, along with his wife Liu Chunping, a department store worker, had saved and struggled for years to pay for their child's table tennis lessons.

Feng said in a 2010 interview: "I feel when I get the results, he will be able to feel it from where he is, because he's done so much for me."

Another life-changing moment came in 2006, when Singapore officials - then-national head coach Liu Guodong and former table tennis chief Choo Wee Khiang - saw her in action in Japan. Impressed by her skill and potential, they made her an offer: Come to Singapore, where we will train you, house you and give you a chance to play at the Olympics.

Feng agreed, and was given citizenship a year later - just in time to qualify for the 2008 Olympics, alongside Li Jiawei and Wang Yuegu.

At the Beijing Games, her performances led the team to a silver, the Republic's first medal since 1960.

Feng built on that success, rising to No. 2 in the world standings in 2010, the year she led Singapore to a sensational World Team Championships triumph over China.

She was at the peak of her powers, but it came at a cost.

Of the 12 months in a year, 10 were spent outside of Singapore competing. There was even less time to visit her mother in Harbin, or to indulge herself.

"She's no different from other women," said deputy women's head coach Jing Junhong, who described her charge as "guileless" and "adorable".

"She wants to be pretty, she wants to wear make-up, she wants to relax. She's a child-like woman who loves to laugh and have fun. But because of her schedule, she has no time to do all these things."

Listening to Mandarin pop songs is Feng's escape from the stress of competition, and watching Formula One races on television is her idea of relaxing.

By all accounts, Feng - who guards her personal life fiercely - is single. Her crushing work ethic might have something to do this.

"She's always the last to leave the training hall," said Loy. "Even at night, when she is supposed to rest, she will sometimes find a sparring partner just so she can train more."

No one is harder on Feng than herself. In her mind, she is still flawed. She turns 26 this month, and she knows her place on the top rungs of world table tennis will slip with age.

"She seeks perfection in everything that she does," said Jing - Feng's maternal figure in the Singapore team. Better than anyone else, she knows how the paddler must feel. It was Jing who missed out on a bronze 12 years ago at the Sydney Games. And it is she who keeps reminding Feng - who endured a bad run of results before the Olympics - to take it easy even when she is not playing well.

"It's good to be a perfectionist in some situations, but she has to understand that no player can be perfect during a match," said Jing. "She has to learn to succeed even when conditions are imperfect."

After winning the bronze last Wednesday, Feng spent 45 minutes outside the arena posing for photographs with fans, VIPs and even a lone British soldier who was smitten by her performance.

"I want to win another medal for Singapore in the team event," she said then. "That's why I need to train even harder now."

In Feng's world, her work is never done.