Kong Linghui, once table tennis legend, now leads a quiet stable life in youth training, free from baseless rumors.
At the men’s singles medal ceremony during the 2000 Sydney Olympics, Kong Linghui narrowly defeated Waldner 3–2 to claim the gold medal. Standing before the podium, he leaned forward and planted a firm kiss on the Five-Star Red Flag in front of him—a moment that has become an iconic image etched in the memories of many table tennis fans.As the first male player in the history of the Chinese national table tennis team to achieve the Grand Slam, Kong Linghui was at the peak of his career at the time. With his handsome appearance and aggressive playing style, he was a household name in the sports world.
No one expected the turn of events following his peak to come so suddenly. In 2017, Kong Linghui stepped down from his coaching position with the Chinese national table tennis team due to certain incidents and subsequently faded from the public eye.In the years that followed, rumors about him ran rampant. Some claimed he had suffered business failures and was deeply in debt; most of his former close friends went out of their way to avoid him, and he found himself in a dire financial situation for a time.
Only a group of old teammates—including Liu Guoliang—who had once fought side by side with him on the national team have remained true to the bonds forged through their shared hardships in those early days. They have continued to keep a close eye on his well-being behind the scenes and, within the limits of their ability, have lent him a helping hand, helping him weather the most difficult times.
Last year, a fan happened to run into Kong Linghui outside an ordinary community table tennis hall in China. He was wearing a gray windbreaker that had been washed until it looked worn, and the corners of the canvas bag he was carrying were frayed and bleached white. Standing in the crowd, he looked no different from any other middle-aged man there to pick up his child.The widespread rumors circulating in the media—about his so-called 1 billion net worth and his habit of being seen wearing luxury brands—were all completely unfounded.
Today, Kong Linghui has long since returned to coaching youth table tennis. He spends his days working with the youth training team, patiently drilling young players on the fundamentals of serving and swinging the racket. After work, he meets up with old teammates he knows well for a simple meal at a small restaurant.His life is now quiet and stable, a far cry from the dazzling days when he stood on the Olympic champion’s podium.
No one says that people who once stood in the spotlight have to live their entire lives in the public eye. To weather the ups and downs and still find a firm footing—to live a steady life relying on one’s own abilities to make a living, without being held aloft by baseless rumors—this kind of grounded existence is, in fact, what brings people the greatest sense of peace.
