The Needle
My son Joe tipped me off about a new movie coming out on Christmas called Marty Supreme. It’s based on the early days of Marty Reisman, the outrageous New York City table tennis champion. We called it ping-pong in my family. During the winter, we played every night in the basement against my father, who was unbeatable. We always used sponge-rubber paddles. They were fast, with a lot of spin—or “English,” as my old man would say.
Marty, who everyone called “The Needle” for his slimness and quick wit, never used sponge paddles. He always used a “hard bat,” covered in a thin layer of rubber. He loved the whack-whack sound. Marty had a flamboyant style and flair, a hustler and showman in a fedora. And he was an incredible player, winning the U.S. championship three times.
Back in 2012, I read that Marty, at 82, wanted to set up a match to prove he could beat a 22-year-old, someone his grandson’s age. So, goddamn it, I called him and told him we would set it up as an event for one of our clients, Seabury Retirement Community in Bloomfield, Connecticut. We tracked down a twenty-something Olympic team hopeful and even talked Seabury into buying an official Olympic table.
The match was scheduled for November. Then Marty called to say he had taken a fall and was in an NYC hospital. “Give me about three weeks,” he said, “and we can pull this off. I’ll still whip the kid.”
A couple of weeks later, on a Saturday morning, I was reading The New York Times and, kaboom, there it was, top of the page: a big obituary. “Marty Reisman, 82, Dies. A Wizard of Table Tennis.” We lost a real character. He was fun to talk to and that would have been one of the best promotions we ever pulled off. Marty always said he made a career playing a game in the basement next to the clothes dryer. That’s just how it was for us as kids. Keep your dukes up.
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