Pīngpāngqiú Yéye

Zou Yu, eleven, has just moved to Tianjin and hasn't said a word at school. Then, in the park by the Hai River at six in the morning, he finds an old man playing ping-pong against a wall, alone. A year of six o'clock mornings: the grip, the serve, a rival who laughs at his bat, a box of old trophies under a bed -- and a final with two old men on their feet at the back.