Take that, you birdie: Badminton is fast and hard, and a real workout

BEFORE GETTING on the court at the Seattle Badminton Club, I did not tell my friend Tina or the coach at the club that I was on the badminton team in high school.

I occasionally tell people I played for one season, as long as I am nowhere near a badminton court where I might be asked to demonstrate my badminton skills.

The truth is I am a terrible badminton player.

In high school, I joined for one season with other members of the tennis team. I was a decent tennis player, and I thought tennis technique would transfer easily to badminton.

As a sport, badminton can appear harmless. The racket is light, the birdie is small and looks benign, and the court is much smaller than tennis. I had good hand-eye coordination and quick feet, or so I thought.

I discovered tennis skills do not translate; new technique was required to handle a lighter racket with a whipping motion, and it also required more scrambling and quick reaction despite the small court size.

I made it through the season and meekly returned to tennis.

All this was in my head when I went to the Seattle Badminton Club, located in a warehouse in Kirkland that is a gathering zone for all things badminton.

I met Tina for a Friday evening game. It was hot, and the large warehouse space with multiple courts was not air-conditioned.

Coach Tao Yuan showed us around and gave us pointers before we started. He showed us how to grip the racket. Use your pointer finger to keep control of the racket and to flick it, he said. And switch to your thumb for backhands. We nodded.

We warmed up. Tina played badminton in junior high, so we spent time getting used to hitting, running after drop shots and hitting long, deep shots to the back of the court. I loved it when we managed a few big rallies.

We decided to play a game. I had trouble returning Tina’s low serves. I also struggled with low, fast shots over the net. I hung on during longer, deep shots, but for almost everything else, I was toast. Tina noticed I was trying to put topspin on the birdie, rather than hitting flat and hard.

I was finally making Tina work for her points, when Tao, the coach, came onto an adjacent court with a student. They started hitting. Tina and I looked at each other and laughed. Compared to them, we had been batting the birdie around like a plaything. They hit fast and hard — punch, punch, punch, right over the top of the net. They moved their feet and flicked their rackets. It was relentless, skillful and impressive. It was the kind of badminton I have never played.

I could hear Tao tell his student to use her pointer finger more. I had forgotten about his tip. By then, Tina and I were tired from darting around the court and decided to cede to the experts.

Despite my losses, I liked playing. I felt great satisfaction when I hit the birdie well, and worked hard chasing shots around the court. I liked the satisfying thwack of birdie on the strings. I enjoyed serving, the one thing I could do consistently. I would play again, and have fun doing it, although I probably will need a few lessons to let go of that tennis topspin.