Badminton, and 40 gay men.

A remarkably flat path in the Heath

Last Thursday I decided to join a badminton club because I couldn't face my running group again. My legs were still punishing me from the last run I did with the club- a killer 14 kilometre run through the four big parks of the north- Hampstead Heath, the Extension, Golders Hill Park, and West Heath. It was 1 hour and 27 minutes of trying to keep up, lest I was left alone in the woods and eaten by a bear. Or a feral squirrel.

Anyway, I still felt like a bit of activity, so badminton seemed the go. Cheery thoughts of relaxing volleying with my family floated through my head. It would be a breeze. Plus, badminton is practically the national sport of Malaysia (tied with table tennis). Thus, skill in the sport is practically my birth right.

Things started not to bode well when I went to the sign up counter. The older man looked at me like I was a piece of exotic fruit emitting a strange smell, and asked:

So, Durian-girl, can I help you? (Or something to that effect)

Am I able to join the session tonight? I asked timidly.

Are you a beginner? We advise beginners to have lessons before joining. Also, you'll need to be familiar with the scoring system. We don't waste time teaching new people. We are very intense.

I'll just be going then....

...BUT I'm always being nagged about how few ladies are in this group, so I suppose you should come tonight. That'll be £7. By the way, this is a group for gay people and their friends. IS THAT ALRIGHT WITH YOU??? (Clearly judging my appearances, he was thinking- GO AWAY, little girl. We don't want you here)

Well, THANK YOU for your warm and hospitable welcome.

I was a bit put off, but upon entering the courts I was greeted with a wonderful sight. 40 gay men, of all ages and races, running around in short shorts and greeting each other with cheek pecks and squeals. The man at registration had not been lying about there being low female enrolments.

But it was fantastic! Every single person came up to me, shook my hand, introduced their partners to me and asked me about myself. During games the men would vocalise, scream, fall on all fours and beat the ground, and heartily congratulate each other when it was over. There was no machismo, though it was competitive. I loved it.

I was whipped, of course, mainly because I have a) no skill at badminton b) low coordination and c) not amazing aerobic fitness. But I might just go back again this week. We'll see...