“He’ll know.” The words of Flixton’s John Hilton were not exactly suppliant. John doesn’t do suppliant, beggarly or any of that scraping around. He had simply nodded in my direction, somehow recalled my face from four months earlier, and assumed that I had lodged in my brain the November 2013 match score from his first encounter with Hilton A’s Mark Gibson.

I had a few things left in my tin head but that was not one of them. John Hilton, 1980 European Champion, had endured a five-set marathon on that chilly autumn night yet had managed – as with all wily champs – to plunder over the line (6-11, 11-7, 11-7, 8-11, 11-9).

Gibson’s Achilles’ heel was too much respect and a game not finely tuned after each point in the manner of Hilton. Their second foray in March 2014 was a straight-sets disaster for him (9-11, 9-11, 10-12) – fine margins but still…a beating, a whipping, a crucifying exposé. Only delusional players think ‘What if…?’

Hilton had been complimentary before the latter smash and grab – psychologically dressing Gibson’s mind, attuning it to a quiet satisfaction borne from ‘a close match’ rather than victory. As such, Gibson walked away – amiable handshake and all – not knowing that he’d been pickpocketed.

People meet, say things, interact and are either impressive or tolerated. It happens in table tennis halls, business, within families, almost everywhere. Had I remembered that they had shared 92 points in that initial ding dong, casually enunciated each set to Hilton like Magnus Magnusson then perhaps other things would have transpired.

Perhaps we would have chatted about the Frenchman, Bruno Parietti – his 1^st round conquest (21-13, 21-19, 21-15) back in 1980. Or the Danish player, Bjarne Grimstrup – his victim in the next round (21-17, 21-9, 21-13). The German, Wilfried Lieck had been the first man to take a set off Hilton but John had dug in (14-21, 21-14, 21-13, 21-9).

A bruising match with Hungarian, Tibor Kreisz (18-21, 21-13, 21-18, 21-18) put Hilton in sight of glory, with the small matter of him needing to knock the reigning European Champion, Gabor Gergely – another Hungarian – out in the Quarter Final in order to reach the last four.

If you look at the twenty-two minute footage of Hilton’s exploits on YouTube you are transported to another time. The surroundings look quaint. It appears to be a tight arena. To the left of the table is an early advert for Betamax – just black letters on a white background. The picture of Gergely reminds you of Harry Enfield in The Scousers such is the enormity of his moustache and hair.

Hilton got through the harrowing match as you would have deduced. 18-21, 18-21, 21-19, 21-16, 21-19 tends to build character in a man – that or the belief that luck and the gods are with you.

Fast forward thirty three years: had Gibson known acutely that Hilton had seen it, done it, been on the rack – really studied the fortitude in those 1980 numbers – then maybe he would have conceded…grabbed his coat earlier. Statistics generally do two things to a player: have them leaning in for the scalp, or fearful, knowing that the conveyor belt is coming for them.

When Hilton smiles into the camera before the Final with Josef Dvoracek (Cze), having turned over Jacques Secrétin (Fra) – the 1976 champion – in the Semis, you know, you just know that he is relaxed. Insurmountable. Unassailable. Ready for action.

“When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have him around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.”

AGMs are generally less humorous than Mark Twain, full of froth, bequeathed ground to pensioners and those seeking a ‘day out’. They can be troublesome affairs as in the case of G4S at the Excel Centre recently, but in the main they are paper-waving, acquiescent spectacles void of excitement or lustre.

The Bolton Table Tennis League AGM on 9^th June promised an array of proposals – most of them modest, a few contentious and one so overwhelming in its ambition that the league set up as we know it was in danger of being ruptured permanently.

Forty seats excluding the big three traversed this cavern at the Hilton Centre, Horwich. Early arrivals had the choice of green or orange plastic, and brown or orange leather. Strangely enough, most wanted a head-on view of the proceedings and so the leather furnishings running down the left wall were largely neglected until seconds before the booming croak of General Secretary, Roy Caswell got matters underway.

Either side of the top man were Match Secretary, Brett Haslam wearing a grey T-shirt and candid face, and Treasurer, Roger Bertrand staring out like Mole in The Wind in the Willows. If you wanted an explanation, a mini-ruck or tussle you went to Haslam who would willingly afford you his non-metered time.

Late entrants were Ian Lansdale in hooded top, Steve Barber catwalking coolly and ‘The Roadie’ Dennis Collier.

Proposal 1 – “…rule 5 should be amended as shown: The annual team subscription fee shall be paid upon application for entry in the League. All team subscriptions shall be paid as a condition of entry in the official handbook and are non-refundable. For a team consisting entirely of juniors, the team fee shall be one fifth of the normal team fee waived.”

It was an effort in securing the future of this splendid game. Many still perceive table tennis to be a game for relics with less cachet than athletics, martial arts or football. Kids, unfortunately, buy into grandness, stardom and money.

My ten-year-old son, Matthew tells it as it is: “None of my friends are into table tennis. They think it’s an old man’s game.” And yet the pride on his face when he umpired three summer league matches this month was, to me, worth more than England winning the World Cup.

Beneath the yawn fest of a typical AGM are things that matter. Despite the oxygen being different and the small rectangular windows being boarded up for fear of escapees, proposals come out of the woodwork which settle often year-long gripes.

Proposal 12 – “That Ramsbottom teams and players should no longer be in the Bolton & District League. That Flixton CC and players should no longer be in the Bolton & District League…”

You have to read this twice – perhaps more for it to sink in. To Derek Watmough it embodies the “nitty natty of league bosses”. To Geoff Rushton “suspensions [are] required”.

For many years now, Ramsbottom‘A’ and Flixton have remonstrated when not victorious (ineligible players, fixtures questionably shifted etc.). The “end of season ritual…had become annoying”. Fortunately, for the health of the league, the motion was withdrawn.