02/02/2026
Memories of Steve Collins by Charlie Ellis.
I spent many hours on the table with Steve. I enjoyed them all. I'm saddened that we'll never share the table or tournament hall again.
In particular, I saw a lot of him during his Edinburgh days when he was part of a group of us who would, usually with Stan Stoodley as coach, train long into the night at Murrayfield's Church Hall venue. Steve was taking the same journey that I was: adults starting the game from a low base. Steve bought into Stan's philosophy that attaining true consistency was tough and required discipline, time, and mental fortitude. Stan would also intervene when Steve and I started talking about and trying different rubbers and blades ('ejaying' was no short cut to success).
These sessions would often go on well past 11pm. Stan knew what buttons to press to get us to really put the effort in. Through these sessions, Steve developed a very solid close-to-the-table block-and-drive style game which saw him make steady progress in terms of ratings and results, often troubling much higher-rated opponents. His large 'wingspan' helped him cover the table well.
It also made him an increasingly good practice partner, one that those with higher ratings were happy to train with. Steve was always self-deprecating about his abilities, but underneath was a steely resolve to keep working on his game. He knew that he needed to develop more of a loop on both wings and took great pleasure when more expansive shots came off: "It was like the bat was possessed and playing the shots for me!" To improve that part of his game, he worked on his fitness and flexibility.
In these sessions, Steve would always strike a nice balance between serious focus on the table and humour off it, always delighting in the 'eccentric' characters who seem to be drawn to the sport, some of whom lacked Steve's self-awareness and perspective on the relative importance of the game and results. Though he often wore a serious expression, humour was always underneath it. He was always amused to witness some of the extreme behaviour that might ensue from the 'characters' of the sport: "X had gone into full meltdown and started a screaming stand-up row with the other team across the hall from us…I managed to pull myself together, and won the second set fairly easily—cue the tantrums. Ranting, swearing, bat throwing, kicking the barriers, he even managed to start an argument with some poor bastard in the crowd." Steve's memory should remind us that, whilst the sport is often very frustrating, we need perspective. I don't think I recall Steve showing real anger at the table. He had the maturity to be aware that this was a waste of energy and a denial of the truth that most losses are due to your own shortcomings.
After playing at Murrayfield, he moved to Corstorphine in 2012. He did this not because he had fallen out with MTTC but strategically, in order to play in a higher league: "I've practised hard over the summer to try and further improve my game, so I really wanted to push myself to a bigger challenge in Div 2. Last year I managed to average 75%-ish in Div 3 despite losing the majority of my games in the first few months when I was very rusty, so the chance to join Corstorphine and play more regularly at a higher level makes them a better proposition for me this season."
Even when working long hours, he kept developing his game. This included attending training camps. "The highlight of summer was definitely a week in Germany in Grenzau at the training academy (along with Stan)—bloody hard work but very rewarding, especially for technique. They teach every stroke to be short but explosive, all in the wrist!" He was at Corstorphine TTC when their venue was destroyed in October 2013. He initially feared that this would be the end of the club, but he remained loyal to them as they sought and found a new place to play.
He only left CTTTC when he moved west, joining West Lothian TTC in 2016.
After he moved to West Lothian, my main connections with Steve were catching up at tournaments and National League fixtures. Again, he always seemed to enjoy competing, even if results went against him. Rather than shrinking from the challenge, he embraced playing stronger players, aware that such matches could be used strategically to show what areas of the game needed work (for most of us, it's service return!). In short, he was well suited to the Vets, where seriousness on the table is combined with chats and companionship off it. Apart from table tennis, we'd often drift into talking about other subjects including politics, an interest he'd picked up via a George Orwell-obsessive father, Nigel.
I have memories of the occasion when heavy snow threatened to keep all the tournament-goers 'trapped' at Bathgate Academy. Steve, who lived within a few miles of the school, left his car in the car park and set off across the blanketed fields, eventually succeeding in reaching home. An example of Steve's determination!
His determination and spirit were most in evidence after he received his diagnosis and began to get sick. Now his aim was to make it to tournaments. When I last saw him (at an SNL event), he was throwing himself into his morning matches, aware that his body probably wouldn't allow him to play in the afternoon. He was squeezing every drop of energy he had just to be on the table. In that, he offers us all a model: that we should value every chance we get.
To conclude, I'd like to say that we need more Steve Collins in the sport. We need more 'stalwarts' like him, players who are the real backbone of clubs (Steve was involved in the organisation of the clubs he joined) and the sport in general. Top talents are vital for the sport, but it's those who really squeeze the most out of their abilities and show values such as persistence, humility, and the true sporting spirit who sustain it. I will remember Steve as a warm and enthusiastic character who gave plenty to the sport and offers us all a great model to follow.
