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So it seems the people in the office are fairly sporty. They play badminton, amongst other sports, once a week and the Westerners get an invite. Now, we all know that if Phil excels at a sport, he will be the master of all and you won't hear the end of it. If however, it turns out said sport is not his forte, a bit of sulking ensues. Which way was it going to go??
The Chinese are pretty good at badminton and ruddy hell isn't it 'alf quick! I fear for myself and Phil - they are going to wipe the floor with us. I fare OK and Phil seems to be holding up, in fact, rapidly improving the longer the game goes on.
Now emerges the 'master'. Let's play like they do - you take the net and I'll guard the back. Being a smidge competitive I'm game for this and proceed to mark the net as if my life depends upon it - racquet up at the ready to slam dunk anything that comes my way.
But b*****-all comes my way as they're playing a base line to base line game, with 'master' at the back hogging all the action! I start to edge back and am sharply told to move forward and guard the net! I dutifully, ok begrudgingly, oblige.
Then a shot drops to my right, close to the net. Now is my chance to shine. I dive right hoping to hook the shuttlecock over the net and send it careening to the ground, taking the glory and the point, but Buffalo Bean is charging his way from the baseline with so much gusto you'd think he'd been propelled out of a cannon. In a desperate attempt to take MY shot and said glory, he takes me out, causing both of us to miss the shot.
Think I would have preferred it if the sulker had turned up….at least I get a game.
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