Back to Bad. Minton.

I've been back playing badminton now for about two months. Before that, it had been about seven years since I'd played, back in the days of doing my BA at Ole Edge Hill. It was great to get back to playing, like an existential homecoming. Not only is badminton one of the only competitive sports I've ever played with any regularity - and therefore become reasonably good at - but also it used to get me out the house and socialising in a meaningful way, and all these feelings and memories ran back to me, arms open wide. I'm incredibly lucky to have been introduced to the group I'm going to, which itself is lucky that the EU has funded it, and thankful. As the memories mill around my mind like lazy gas molecules, I got to thinking about the badminton-based writing I used to do on this very blog, so went back and had a read.

Faintly amusing I find those posts. Generally they comprise of me evaluating my performance, or moaning about some perceived social injustice wrought against me, alongside thrilling thoughts on Liverpool FC's latest match. I remember how it was, though, going pushing myself as hard as I could for a couple of hours, having plenty of laughs, then walking out into the cold, dark air, feeling also the chill of loneliness as I walked home, past the wooden fencing around the hospital that made a zoetrope of the wall behind, and in through the front door. I'd go from joking and exercising with everybody, to being by myself. Then I'd usually have a bit to eat, a shower, and a blog, and felt purposeful again.

Occasionally I would attempt to uncover - poetics-like - some nugget of wisdom about my badminton practise (how to play better, what makes a good player, etc), and I'm pleased with myself on that front. But anyway, whatever I think of having written it all, it doesn't matter. It's there. The most interesting thing to note was how I used to react to my performance. I'm a lot less celebratory after a win these days, rarely even opting for a fist-pump (does that suggest that there's less to fist-pump about?). I could be very puerile, as I let myself get carried away in the genuine elation, but this had been perceived to be trying to rub it in people's faces, which I don't, and never have, agreed with.

My reactions to losing are pretty similar. I'm still not bothered if I lose games, and still find dropping points with poor play disappointing, i.e. where I know I should've done better. However, I'm nowhere near as aggressive with myself as I used to be (there'd be an inner dialogue going on that would make a telepathic sailor blush), and in general now I look forward to the next shot, rather than dwelling on the one I've missed. Good advice for life, methinks. Indeed, some of these tools help interpersonally, too. There are a few people at the place I go to now that like to laugh at you when you miss a shot. I find this annoying, because I'm a stupid man-child with a hugely over-sensitive disposition, and an unfortunately robust ego, even after all this time and effort. That being said, when people do laugh, I take it on the chin, and by breathing and contextualising it better, the knot of annoyance is gone in a moment. Part of the contextualising can be thinking about how, objectively, a complete air-shot might look funny - like physical comedy, as it were - to others. Also, there's the fact that all you can control is trying to hit that shot, and your reaction. You missed, so what? Try and hit the next one. You can't control how other people take anything, so don't try. Let it be.

Anyway, I didn't expect this all to go on quite so long, and then turn into a weird Buddhist sermon at the end... So goodbye for now! Hope you feel inspired to dust off an old hobby, or even start a new one, after reading this :)

Bye!

CALL TO ARMS - EMERGENCY MEETING OF 'SCARF'

From the Liverpool Echo's site:
http://www.liverpoolecho.co.uk/incoming/gallery/everton-goodison-park-7051684

Right folks, enough is enough. As if Liverpool losing 5-0 to Man City and Everton getting stuffed 4-0 by United over a month ago wasn't enough, just this weekend we've had The Reds being done in by Spurs, 4-1 (at their supposedly 'cursed' Wembley ground), and Everton slumping to a 5-2 defeat at the feet of Arsenal, preceding their manager's exit. This is too troubling to let slide!

I propose an emergency meeting of 'SCARF' - the Scouse Association for Remedying Football - which will have powers to call upon the government to inject millions of pounds into our footy funds, ready for the January transfer window. In addition to this, we will have the initiative to try and bring sanctions against all other clubs, especially the Mancunian ones, for deliberately lacking a sense of humour and 'winning too much'.

Football is a rich and varied sport, full of fantastic athletes, scenes of high drama and, ultimately, families of fans just wanting to enjoy themselves. SCARF will try to fix the current, woeful situation of madness on Merseyside, and bring back some of that 'score goaling' I've heard so much about in other clubs' games.

SCARF president, Maggie McCartney, has commented, "Scousers have often had a different outlook on life, from the rich diversity of cultures that the docks and universities brought into the city, to the way political ideologies - especially those of Mrs Thatcher - have bred a sense of outsiderness in England. Our outlook in football is no different. For many years, Liverpool - especially - have been, if anything, overly concerned with winning. This year, we are seeing a fresh and beautiful expression of playing well and getting no results. It seems, however, that other clubs are stubbornly rolling along with outdated ideas of 'trying to put the ball in the back of the net', ultimately for three points. My organisation will seek to level the playing field any way it can, and, with a little luck, get Scousers back on top."

Theresa May has yet to expand on her earlier comment, "What is a Liverpool?"