The seventh day of the Olympics.
It was finals of the team table tennis match.
11-4.
11-3.
11-7.
Yu Yingyi called out, "Great one, we're now leading 1-0 in sets played!"
Bao Han was here today as the guest again. "As long as we can continue playing with this momentum, there shouldn't be any problems!"
Yu Yingyi said, "Our national players are still as dependable as always. Their play is so beautiful."
Zhang Ye said, "There are now many foreigners who have demonized our way of playing table tennis. Oh, look! The cameras have cut to a pair of foreigners who seem to be father and son. What do you think they're whispering about?"
Yu Yingyi instinctively replied, "What?"
Zhang Ye said, "That kid must definitely be asking, 'Dad! What kind of sport is table tennis?' To which his father would probably pat him on the head and say, 'Silly kid, table tennis isn't a sport. It's a form of Chinese sorcery."
Yu Yingyi: "…"