Friday Night Dueling

Flynn and I have reached a point where badminton is like dueling with swords. Just like with swords, you can attack high or low, left, right, or midline, in almost infinite combination. Some shots are like thrusts, while others are ripostes. You can play a defensive game and wait for your opponent to make a mistake, or you can play offensively and try to maneuver them into position for a kill. It's an amazingly apt metaphor for actual combat.

We usually play a best of three, just like in handball. It's grueling - neither of us are in fantastic shape - and we both leave the court dripping with sweat. During a good game you must exercise your quickness, aggression, patience, politeness, honesty, strategy, trickery, and numerous other skills. You have to control your breathing, hide your fatigue, read your opponent's face and body language, try not to lose the shuttle in the lights, and be ready to run from net to back line and every corner of the court, over and over in each rally. There are towering lobs that fall on the back line from 40 feet up, tiny little hairpin drops that travel less than a foot and clear the net by two inches, and overhand jump-smashes that move too quickly to be seen.

Badminton is threatening to replace handball as my favorite game. (GASP!)

Despite the geeky swordplay comparison that makes my old SCA heart throb, the best part is the way the local Flock has taken to it. At first it was just me and Flynn - in fact, I never would have gotten addicted if Flynn hadn't agreed to come with me to that first club meeting - but now G-Fresh, Fleur, Beckers, Lil' Tattooed Girl, Indian Princess and Vanilla Fresh are all regulars for Friday night badminton. Those of you who are really old school readers of this blog will remember a time when the Flock got up early on Sundays to go throw boomerangs - we used to call it "Sunday Mass." Badminton has kind of taken the place of that form of worship; at least until it warms up a lot more.

Fleur took a bunch of pics tonight while we were playing. Maybe she'll post some on her blog...

Resolution

There has been an unsettled issue in the Flock for some time now... Beginning with this post back in June, Vanilla Fresh and I have been waging a quiet little war on each other.

In that post, I proclaimed that I was undefeated in singles to that point in the year. In the comments, VF rightly reminded me that he had beaten me in a single game. To which, I responded that a single game did not a match make, and the battle was on.

Because we usually play doubles or cutthroat, it was quite a while before our next game of singles could be played. When it finally did happen, I was victorious after a titanic struggle, making the score one to one in our best of three series - and then the others showed up so we switched to doubles. The final outcome was postponed again.

Finally, this past Thursday we met to play singles. No other players showed up to join us for the entire session, so we were able to play a full best of three. VF took the second game on the strength of some wicked serving and strong forecourt play, but I was able to win both the first and third games by using arcane Sith techniques and a few nigh on to crippling dive shots.

I walked from the court feeling like I'd been hit by a bus, but vindicated. My winning streak was intact - I could hold my head high while I limped home. I felt positively gladiatorial for about 24 hours... and only for 24 hours because the following day I played in my first badminton tournament.

I signed up for the men's B class of the UW intramural badminton tournament. The guy I played - a grad student from Hong Kong - absolutely wrecked me. In the first game I scored two points, and in the second I scored four. For those of you not familiar with badminton (old school) scoring, that's six points to his thirty!

It wasn't all that bad, actually. He was a very good sport about it, and we joked the entire time. It was made even less painful when I found out that the other two Flock competitors (Flynn and Beckers) met with similarly horrible fates. We all walked into it expecting nothing less - we have been playing badminton for about 6 weeks - most of the people we were playing against have been at it since they were in elementary school!

So, the great Handball War of Aught-Seven is over, and the victor has had his ego stamped down by badminton, and all is right with the world...

Black Vatican Sports News

The 2007 US Open of Handball will be going down October 18th-21st, at the Los Caballeros courts in Fountain Valley, California. If you can't be there, you can watch the live webcast - details here!

In local handball news, His Sinfulness seems to be recovering from his slump, winning two games of cutthroat in convincing fashion yesterday. The Pontifex Niger had been stinking up the courts for the last few weeks, until illness and exhaustion forced him to take about a week off. The rest seemed to do him some good, and he was back to his usual shaved-ape-like form.

The Infernal Pontiff was quick to point out that his fellow players were also on their games. "Vanilla Fresh was making some great shots, and Doktor Smith was playing well all over the court - until his penis came unscrewed."

His Sinfulness was referring to a brief stoppage of play, when the top ball from the Good Doktor's apadravya came off, fell down his pant leg, and rolled across the court. When it was brought to his attention, he quickly reattached his penile accessory and the game continued, but apparently the phallic wardrobe malfunction ruined Smith's concentration. "Having something fall off of your junk has got to unnerve a guy," said the Black Pope, adding, "I thought it was from my tongue bar initally - really glad I didn't pick it up and put it in my mouth."

In other sports news, Flynn and His Sinfulness took to the badminton courts last night with their new racquets in hand. Despite the horrible crushing they both received at the hands of two more experienced players from Asia, the racquets were a success.

Flynn's Qiangli B 86 (shown at left) performed well, helping the artist play better than pitiful badminton. Although His Sinfulness literally had to drag the slothful one from the house, he had a good time once he got to the gym. As he left the courts, the Canadian was heard describing the racquet as "cool as fuck," and "more smackier."


His Sinfulness was also impressed with his new Pro Kennex Titanium Pro 727 (shown at right). "It's light, quick, graceful, and maneuverable - everything I'm not," said the Sable Primate. Black Vatican insiders say that His Sinfulness has been spotted in private moments stroking the new racquet and speaking to it in a low voice. "We'll show those skinny Asian players, won't we Precious?" The Precious could not be reached for comment.

My New Badminton Coach...

Ok, you don't need to watch all 8 minutes of that (although she does take her top off to reveal a matching bra around the 5 minute mark...). The real point here is that I did a search on YouTube for a video to put with a post I am writing about how two skinny Asian guys schooled Flynn and I in badminton on Saturday, and this was the first video that came up. I am so very tired of this kind of crap.

Why do people who run pr0n sites feel that they must spam the hell out of every internet venue they can find? To all of the pr0n producers out there, let me tell you a secret - if you have pictures/video of pretty girls in various states of undress and moral flexibility, PEOPLE WILL FIND YOU! Throw up a site with a url that tells the story - like, softcorebadmintonhotties.com for instance - and the people who want to see that will come to you.

The video below is more like what I was looking for. As you watch the opponent slowly realize that he has been burned by a tricky drop shot, you get a hint of what it was like for Flynn and I. Except in the video it lasts like 5 seconds, while Flynn and I underwent this kind of confusion for about 90 minutes.

After we got done playing, my legs felt like lead, my knee was bleeding again, and my clothing was completely drenched in sweat. It was sort of like handball, without any walls to slam into. The guys we played with are so fast, I swear that the smashes they were hitting defied the laws of physics - the shuttlecock seems to almost teleport from their racquet to the floor. Playing guys like them make the game an excellent workout. Maybe not quite as good for developing upper body strength as handball, but the cardio is as intense, if not more so.

Now, I know some of the Flock are not willing to be locked in a small room with Flynn and I so handball is out for them, but just about everyone can play badminton. Who is free on Tuesday at 8:00pm?