It was July 2010...
Dust and cobwebs have
already accumulated on my racket when I opened it. The grip, tattered to
pieces from a game a long time ago, was gathering molds.
It has
been a year, maybe more, since I last held a racket and smashed a
shuttlecock. I tried holding the racket (Of course it's already been
dusted and I had already changed the moldy grip.) The racket feels
almost foreign to me now. Just almost. Somehow, thankfully, my hands
still remember the all too familiar feel of the handshake grip. I swing
it in the air, poised to smash. Swish. The familiar sound of the racket
slicing through the air fills my ear. Aaahhh. I haven't forgotten.
But
after a few more swings comes the reminder of a year of not playing.
Although the mind has already made the connections and familiarized
itself with the sport once again, the body is none too willing. The
shoulder especially is much too eager to warn the rest of the body of
the lack of training. Stiff and inflexible, it sends a not so gentle
reminder that practice and a lot of warm up and stretching are much
needed, and pain, a lot of pain is expected for sure.
I prepared
my stuff. Today is going to be a long day. Queen T made sure I wasn't
late so she woke me up around 630 in the morning, calling 6 or 7 times
to make sure I made a move to prepare my things. I packed my racket,
shoes and a few shirts along with some toiletries. I was as ready as I
could be.
I took the taxi going to Powersmash, where we agreed to
meet. I was there early, 10 minutes to 8.
Showing posts with label Badminton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Badminton. Show all posts
Getting in the Groove
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