Coaching at the Table Tennis Table

Some of the most important coaching conversations I've ever had didn't happen in my office.

They didn't happen around a boardroom table.

They weren't scheduled in a calendar or documented in a development plan.

They happened over a battered old table tennis table.

For many years I worked alongside a leader named Rob.

When I first joined the contact centre, he was my manager.

If you know Rob, you'll know one thing about him almost immediately.

He loves table tennis.

Not just enjoys it.

Loves it.

Most afternoons, after the phones had quietened and the day's work was done, you'd find him paddle in hand, convincing someone to have "just one game."

Of course, one game rarely stayed one game.

Sometimes it was just the two of us.

Other times a small tournament would emerge, with people wandering over to cheer, laugh and challenge the winner.

Looking back, I realise we weren't just playing table tennis.

We were building trust.

A Relationship That Kept Changing

Over the years our working relationship changed several times.

Rob began as my manager.

Eventually we became peers.

Later, in one of those unusual twists that careers sometimes take, Rob became one of my direct reports.

Those transitions could have been awkward.

Power shifts often are.

But somehow they weren't.

The table tennis table never cared what the organisational chart looked like.

It was neutral ground.

There were no office walls.

No desks between us.

No titles.

Just two people trying to return a tiny white ball that seemed determined to bounce in every direction except the one you expected.

Looking back, I think that's why some of our best leadership conversations happened there.

Coaching Doesn't Always Look Like Coaching

Early in my leadership journey, I believed coaching happened in one-on-one meetings.

Diary invite.

Meeting room.

Development plan.

Goals.

Action items.

There's certainly a place for all of that.

But over time I discovered something different.

People often open up when they stop feeling like they're being assessed.

Sometimes that's over a coffee.

Sometimes it's walking around the block.

Sometimes it's sitting beside each other instead of across from each other.

And sometimes...

It's while trying not to miss a forehand.

I've had conversations at that table that I don't think would ever have happened in an office.

The game gave people permission to relax.

Silences weren't awkward.

Hard conversations felt lighter.

Laughter made honesty easier.

Without realising it, we had created a space where coaching happened naturally.

Meet People Where They Are

One of the greatest lessons I've learned as a coach is that every person is different.

Some people need structure.

Others need movement.

Some process by talking.

Others think best while doing something with their hands.

Some need the privacy of an office.

Others need the freedom of being somewhere that doesn't feel like work.

The job of a coach isn't to insist that everyone comes to your table.

It's to be willing to walk to theirs.

Sometimes that's a physical place.

Sometimes it's an emotional place.

Sometimes it's an intellectual place.

Sometimes it's simply meeting someone at the point where they're ready to have the conversation.

Coaching begins long before the first question is asked.

It begins with creating an environment where someone feels safe enough to answer honestly.

The Table Tennis Principle

These days, I don't spend nearly as much time around a table tennis table.

But I still think about it almost every week.

Whenever someone seems guarded...

Whenever a coaching conversation feels forced...

Whenever I'm tempted to schedule another formal meeting...

I ask myself a different question.

"Where is this person's table tennis table?"

Where are they most themselves?

Where do they feel safe?

Where can the masks come off?

Because coaching isn't about finding the perfect question.

It's about creating the right environment for the right conversation.

Sometimes that environment is a meeting room.

Sometimes it's a café.

Sometimes it's a walk.

Sometimes it's over a game of table tennis.

The location matters far less than the connection.

Leadership Happens Between the Points

One of the things I remember most isn't who won.

In fact, Rob still beats me every time.

What I remember are the conversations between the points.

The laughter after an impossible shot.

The moments where work quietly gave way to life.

The conversations about careers, families, challenges and aspirations.

The trust that grew without either of us trying to manufacture it.

Years later, I realised something beautiful.

The table tennis table was never really about table tennis.

It was about creating a place where two people could simply be people.

Before the titles.

Before the hierarchy.

Before the performance reviews.

That's where coaching comes alive.

Because the best coaches don't just ask better questions.

They create spaces where people feel safe enough to answer them.