I’ve never played badminton with the guys myself. By “the guys”, I mean mostly Charles and the Tyrex, and sometimes Maurice and others. By “badminton”, I mean the thing where you hit the white flying thingummy (you know, with the funny name) with the roundish sieve with a long slim stick, running around in the process, and trying to score points.
Why didn’t I try playing badminton with the guys, do you ask? Well, I just somehow never got round to it. Always wanted to, though. From what I know of them, I’m quite certain it’s something you have to experience at least once in your life. Also, it is very likely I would only experience it once, because you see, I am absolutely incapable of hitting something with a racket, bat, paddle, wood plank, turned ukulele, or anything, except a frying pan. Wait, that’s not exactly true. I can hit a lot of things with a racket, bat, paddle, wood plank, or turned ukulele. Big, static things, like chairs, people, badminton nets, myself (repeatedly), walls, ceilings, floors, precious vases in another room, full coffee mugs on carpets, etc.
What I cannot hit with a racket, bat, paddle etc, is a ball. I’m not talking about anatomical balls here, those I can hit pretty accurately, as my friend Paul can testify (and if you ask, he will give you a very detailed account on how he was quietly minding his own business, reading a mystery novel on the beach when a whirling paddle came out of nowhere, turned at a right angle and slapped him brutally at some very tender place, making him howl at a very high pitch for a long time, while I was looking for my paddle in the opposite direction). No, I’m talking about the ball you’re supposed to hit with the racket, bat, paddle etc. Big or small, fast or slow, I just can’t.
As my Mom used to say, “let’s just hope you’re good at something else!”
So, I never played badminton with the guys. I was quite curious, therefore, to have a detailed report of it by Muffin.
First, she said, they invited her on a group chat. It started with the Tyrex asking:
“Who’s in for some Badminton on Tuesday?”
-I can’t on Tuesday, answered Charles, because I have my Classic Birds Club meeting, same as every Tuesday for the past 2 years, as I keep telling you, Tyrex.
-I have a sharp pain on my leg, said Maurice, no badminton for me this week!
-I just remembered I have an appointment on Tuesday, so I can’t either,” said the Tyrex.
Then, they tried for Wednesday, with better success. A reservation was made for Wednesday, 7pm, court B.
“See you on Tuesday, then!” said Maurice, and that caused some confusion.
Once the confusion was cleared, they realized the reservation had been mistakenly made for Friday. Once that was fixed, the Tyrex remembered he had a dentist appointment on Wednesday. Wait, wasn’t that on Tuesday? asked someone, and no, it was another appointment, and well, the Tyrex moved it to another day, so they could go on Wednesday, but he would be late.
Muffin asked if it was like that every week, and, as they didn’t seem to understand what she meant, and as she had access to the history of the group chat, she told me it looked like it was usually even worse.
On Wednesday, she got there quite in advance, because she didn’t know the place, and needed to rent rackets and stuff, and waited for them on Court B at 10 before 7.
At 10 past 7, she checked with the reception, and discovered their reservation was for Court A. She went to Court A, and nobody was there. Charles arrived on Court A at 15 past 7, and looked very surprised when he noticed Muffin was miffed.
Maurice and the Tyrex got there 5 minutes later, and they started playing at 7:30.
They started with some exchanges, as a warm up, then they played doubles. Muffin was with Charles, and Maurice with the Tyrex.
Charles is a very good, very precise sort of player, but not exceedingly mobile. The Tyrex is also surprisingly good, mostly because he is so unpredictable. He is also not exceedingly mobile. Maurice is so mobile that he loses a lot in precision.
At first, Muffin said, they lost because Charles was overly gentlemanly with her, saying “Madame, this is yours” with a deep bow and leaving to her any shuttlecock that seemed to go more or less in her direction, forcing her to run around in a very ungainly manner.
Then, the Tyrex was making so much fun at Charles for losing that Charles got blacker than usual (not an easy thing for a raven) and started to play as if he was alone, colliding with her on multiple occasions, and finally saying she was “the worst jade that ever brushed a shuttlecock with her clumsy paws”. Hearing that, she served a shuttlecock directly on him with all the force she could, shouting “Did that one brush you??”. Not that it mattered, because by this time, Maurice had hurt himself by walking on his untied shoelaces and falling in the net, and the Tyrex was eating a snack.
So they stopped, had a shower, and went together to eat a burger in a nearby pub.
“You know, said Muffin in a confidential tone, I’m not saying it wasn’t fun, but I’m not exactly sure it’s very… efficient…”
I agreed.
“Well she sighed, I’ll go back to the Care Bear studio and try some other classes…”
So she did, for a few weeks. She tried Zumba, even though she hates dancing, and hated it with a passion. She tried Cardio-boxing, and that one went better: as she said, at least she could imagine she was punching me. You see, for some reason, she seemed to resent what she called my untiring enthusiasm, as if she wanted me to go to the classes against my will, and complain about them or something. As if she was absolutely certain I was faking my liking of exercise, and secretly hating every minute of it.