I am an IDIOT!

Don’t let the title throw you off too much.  Please feel free to reply and tell me that I am mistaken – actually sheer genius is a far more apt description.  Freaking genius.

But alas, I am an idiot on so many front and for so many reasons.  I imagine all of us are.  I am so the complete opposite of a computer nerd.  I know how to google, I know how to use spell check, and I know how frustrated I get when the little machine attached to the keyboard is not working.  I do admit to being intelligent enough to try to restart the computer, and that seems to fix the problem a good percentage of the time.  But I truly am an idiot when it comes to understanding these bits and bytes, or knowing how the great world wide web works.

For example, my site is now a bit over a week old – and has just 2 posts.  I assumed I would share my site name with my friends and maybe even some family, and that would make up the sole source of its readership.  Apparently I was wrong.  It seems that others are finding the site through some inexplicable avenue and it seems that they might even be enjoying the read.

And so I figured I would test the water.  I have an old piece of writing that dates back several years and that I sent out to my badminton friends.  It is well worth sharing with a wider audience, and I dare say that even the original readers might enjoy reading it anew.  It is a very funny take on how selective we badminton players are about the state of our birdies, sometimes called shuttlecocks.  Enjoy

THE SHUTTELCOCK

I was thinking about how some of my co-workers make fun of me for my chosen sport of badminton.  Now I work among all men, so I figured maybe there was a connection between their attitude towards badminton and their masculinity.  And it hit me.  They seem fine with tennis or squash, but badminton seems to draw their digs and remarks.  I think it is the fact that we play with shuttlecocks.  Now stick with me here.  I know we all refer to them as birds, but to those outside the circle, they subconsciously make the connection to the shuttlecock.  Follow along now. 

 For the players, the performance of the shuttlecock is under constant review.  We have some strict demands for the shuttlecock that are obvious and necessary.  These demands might bruise the male ego. 

As players, we need to be able to predict the behaviour of the shuttlecock, and we need to be able to rely upon the shuttlecock during the match.   We are going to do our best to smash the crap out of the poor thing, and yet we also demand that it responds properly to a soft touch.   We treat it quite poorly, thinking only of our own wishes and needs.

 The speed of the shuttlecock is a matter of particular importance for us players.  If the shuttlecock is too fast, the game seems to end sooner than it should.  And maybe even worse is a slow shuttlecock because of the damage one can do to their arm.   And then there is the constant testing of the shuttlecock.  If found to be inadequate, it is downright rejected.  Perhaps it might be good enough for the warm up, but it will be tossed aside when it is time for the match to begin. 

 The usefulness of the shuttle is short lived.  A good shuttlecock might last a game, but never seems to have the longevity to make it through a full match.  So we are constantly bringing in new shuttlecocks as replacements.  And every new shuttlecock brought in will be critically compared to the previous shuttlecock.  Some never seem to measure up.  And even the very best shuttlecock will serve us for only a short time before it requires replacing.  And how about one that is not in pristine condition.  The loss of just a single feather may cause the shuttlecock to go a bit wonky.  And no one wants to play with a wonky shuttle.  If the shuttlecock does not react as we wish, it will be simply tossed aside and replaced with a better one.  A good shuttle might cost a bit more, but it is better to be choosy and get what we want rather than settling for the first shuttlecock that comes along.

 But, there is one bit of good news that might cheer up the guys.  All shuttlecocks come in one size, so size is not an issue.

 

So there you have it girls.  Insight into the ribbing we take from the guys might now be better understood.   And insight into the workings of my mind – well, still a mystery I hope.

 

Well folks – I hope it was a fun bit of reading.  I figure if you like that one, you might want to bookmark my site and enjoy more of this warped sense of humour.  If you managed to get through that one without at least a little hint of a smile, I want to recommend The Pilgrimage of Stephen Harper.  I understand it is a real sleeper.

IF YOU ENJOYED THIS POST – BE SURE TO VISIT THE SEQUEL, “I AM A GOLFING IDIOT”. 

 

 

One Response to I am an IDIOT!

  1. You are one warped individual! Love it. Love it. Love it.

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