Comrade, English gold and dealing with the cold – Colin Clemett’s memories of Wembley 1954 World Championships – Table tennis England

It is fair to say that Colin Clemett when it comes to officer is the most important authority in the table tennis world.

Colin qualified as a provincial referee in 1952 and was a member of the Technical Official Committee for 58 years from 1959 to 2017. He was also in the rules committee from 1958-63 and again from 1998 to 2023, including as chairman from 2007.

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For the ITTF, from 1969 to 1973 he was secretary of the Rules Committee and chairman from 1973 to 2003. He was responsible for the introduction of the international referee and international referee qualifications, editor of the manuals for competition officials and tournament referees.

Moreover, he was the technical delegate at the 1992, 1996 and 2000 Olympic Games and at the African Games of 1999 and the Commonwealth Games of 2002 in Manchester.

Colin is now 96 years old and is one of the few surviving people who played a role in the last world championships in London, in Wembley in 1954. Below he shares his memories of the event.

I was a referee at the 1954 world championships. I did not really expect that I would be accepted, because I had only qualified the previous season as CU, and I was very happy with the prospect of seeing my heroes, such as Viktor Barna and Richard Bergmann, in action instead of a distant spectator’s chair.

Referees were organized in squadrons of three, each led by an experienced referee as a table manager. My team leader was Bill Densham, father of (England International) Terry, the third member was Bill Crozier from Northumberland.

The list of around 100 competition officials in the program includes the usual functions – scorers, stewards, interpreters, etc. – but for the first and possibly only time there is no nominated referee. At the moment it was speculated that this was because there were two valuable officials who would expect the position, and that choosing one of them could be considered a small one for the other.

The compromise was to make two non-mentioned posts of equal status so far, with Geoff Harrower as Championships Secretary and George White as director of Play, referee in everything but name.

There is also no report of two other functions that are known today – Racket check and drug tests. I think that in those more innocent days every suggestion that players could try to gain an unfair benefit by taking equipment ‘doctors’ or performance -enhancing drugs, with shock and disbelief.

All players and officials were housed at the Royal Hotel in Bloomsbury, which was also the administrative headquarters for the championships. We were brought to Wembley every day by bus and there was a shuttle service of half an hour all day. Playing started every morning at around 9.30 am and usually ended at 9 am to 9.30 am, but some games ended much later.

The arena was set up with all tables in a line in the middle of the hall. Play areas were designated by very solid wooden environment, and as soon as the Japanese started playing, it was realized that the play areas were barely big enough for them. It was feared that one could clash with a surround and injure themselves. Fortunately there were no such incidents; I think the play area has been enlarged for the final.

One of my most important memories of the hall was that it was very cold, because the wooden floor was placed directly above the ice, which was not melted. It was better when there were many spectators, but it was never really hot and some older referees clearly found it uncomfortable when officing matches that, under the time limit, could take more than an hour and a half. At that time, players were allowed to leave the Arena during the intervals between competitions, but it was expected that matchmakteners would stay everywhere.

The most memorable competition was the final of the men’s singles, but for the wrong reasons. It was probably the worst singles final of the gentlemen ever. There were practically no meetings and people just couldn’t understand why (Tage) Flisberg, who had easily seen Bergmann in the semi -final, found it so difficult to even return (Ichiro) Ogimura’s service.

Because they both used thick sponge, the game was almost quiet and this was added to the somewhat unreal atmosphere. The entire competition, including announcements, introductions, intervals, etc., lasted less than half an hour, a real disappointment.

What helped to compensate was the final of the women’s doubles, where the Rowes (Diane and Rosalind) beat Kathleen Best and Ann Haydon, but it was not as entertaining an evening as expected. I think there were around 10,000 spectators at the final and that helped the location to warm up a bit, but it was still quite cold.

There was a farewell party at the Royal Hotel after the final. It was not a very lush affair, just a finger buffet and a pay-yourself-bar and a little recorded music to dance. It ended shortly after midnight, but it was pretty well attended and people seemed to enjoy it.

Thinking of the budget was the first to come to me £ 15,000. I thought, no, that is not possible. But of course, with inflation that is almost £ 600,000 today – and the figure was actually £ 15,203. It was still a fairly sober period in England and the rationing was not yet ready.

There was one thing that I really remember. It only went nine years after the Second World War and I think memories of Japanese and German prison camps were still fairly fresh. Certainly, the popular press was inclined to generate hostility, so I feared that there would be a number of very embarrassing moments, but it was precisely the opposite.

From the first day the comrade was great. I have some photos with, for example, Japanese, French and Yugoslav players who clearly enjoy each other’s company while they relax between competitions. The audience seemed happy to welcome the players of all nations, and for me this was one of the happiest world championships.

It also marked the start of the end of the European dominance of sport. Players such as Bergmann, Barna and (Johnny) Leach were already past their peak and success started to depend more on physical fitness and agility than in style.

I feel happy that I have been able to see some of the classic stylists of the 40s and early 1950s and the dynamic acquisition of their successors.