So, the Challenger table tennis table. Right. Decided it was time to get one. The basement felt a bit empty, and I figured, why not? Something to do other than staring at screens all day. I’d seen this Challenger brand around, seemed decent enough for the price, not like I’m training for the Olympics or anything.
The delivery was an event in itself. The box was massive, and heavy. Pretty sure the delivery guy strained a muscle. I just about managed to wrestle it into the garage. My first thought was, this is going to be a project. And boy, was I right. I cleared out a good chunk of space, thinking I’d have it knocked out in an afternoon. Optimism, eh? It gets you every time.
Opening that box… it was like one of those magic clown cars, but with table parts and a million tiny bags of screws. Seriously, I think they give you extra just to mess with you. I laid everything out on a big tarp. The main table halves looked okay, pretty solid. But then there were all the legs, supports, nets, wheels, and a sea of hardware. My heart sank a little, I won’t lie. It’s always that moment, isn’t it? The point of no return.
Then came the instructions. Oh, the instructions. A single, folded sheet of paper, diagrams looking like they were drawn by someone who’d only ever heard of a table tennis table. Pictures were tiny, and the steps weren’t always clear. It was like, ‘Attach Part F to Part G using Screw Type 3B’. Good luck finding 3B in the pile of twenty similar-looking screws. I spent a good ten minutes just sorting screws into little piles. My wife walked in, took one look at my face and the scattered parts, and just slowly backed out. Smart woman.
Putting the legs together was the first real test. Lots of fiddly bits. You had to hold three things in place while trying to thread a bolt through a hole that didn’t quite line up. I remember thinking, this is why people pay for assembly. But I’m stubborn. Or maybe just cheap. Probably a bit of both. There was this one bracket, I swear it was bent. Or maybe I was just holding it wrong. After a bit of ‘persuasion’ – and I use that term loosely – it finally went on.
I remember a similar feeling when I tried to put together a flat-pack wardrobe years ago. That thing nearly ended me. I’d taken a week off work, thought I’d be productive. Ended up spending three days on that wardrobe, sleeping on the floor because my bedroom was a construction site. The instructions for that were in twenty languages, none of which seemed to be proper English. This Challenger table wasn’t that bad, but it brought back some memories, you know?
Attaching the two big table halves to the frame was the next challenge. This definitely needed two people, but I was determined to do it solo. Lots of propping things up with paint cans and old books. There was a moment where one half almost toppled over. That got the heart racing. Definitely recommend getting a helper for that bit. My back was screaming by this point. I took a break, made some tea, and stared at the half-finished monstrosity in my garage.
The wheel assemblies weren’t too bad, thankfully. They just bolted on. But then came the net posts. Again, tiny screws, awkward angles. One of the pre-drilled holes for the net post bracket seemed a bit off. Had to gently enlarge it with a drill bit. Not ideal, but what are you gonna do? Send the whole thing back? Not a chance. I was too far in.
After what felt like an eternity, probably a good five or six hours spread over two days if I’m being honest, it was finally standing. All four legs on the ground, table halves aligned (mostly). It looked… like a table tennis table. A bit wobbly at first, but I went around and tightened everything up again. That’s a key tip, by the way. Go back and re-tighten everything after it’s all together.
It’s not a professional tournament table, let’s be clear. The Challenger is what it is. A decent, home-use table. The bounce is okay, a little inconsistent near the edges maybe, but fine for a casual knockabout. It folds up easy enough, which is good for storage, though it’s still pretty bulky even when folded.
So, yeah, the Challenger table tennis table. It was an adventure in assembly. Lots of sighing, a few choice words muttered under my breath, and that satisfying feeling when the last bolt is tightened. If you’re thinking of getting one, just be prepared for the setup. Get your patient hat on, maybe a friend, and a cold drink for when you’re done. It got built, it works, and hopefully, it’ll see some use. Now, if I can just find those paddles…
