Benny Jay: Badminton Betrayal

October 21st, 2009

I’m sitting in a Starbucks, nursing my second cup of coffee and nibbling on a hazel nut scone, when Kimberly walks in.

She’s here for help writing her college-entrance essay, and like so many other high school seniors, she doesn’t know where to start.

Well, I ask, what’s the topic they want you to write about?

A setback in my life….

Okay, what setbacks have you suffered?

Hmm, I don’t know….

Relax. Think about it. We’ve got time….

I sip my coffee. I eat my scone. I eye the sports section of the paper — it’s a story about the Knicks….

Well, I got cut from the badminton team my sophomore year….

Okay, tell me about it….

And so she does. Only, like a lot of first-time story tellers, she starts slow. Like she’s too shy to burden me with all the details. But as I press her for the information, she picks up and it becomes less an interview than a monologue….

I was never very good at sports. I thought I’d give badminton a try. I made the freshman team — well, everybody makes the freshman team. There are no cuts. I liked it better than I ever imagined. I liked the girls on the team, the camaraderie, the spirit, the games, the uniforms. I liked having something to do after school. I even went to badminton camp over the summer. I tried out for the sophomore team….

And how did you do?

Good. They had us play each other. I won more than I lost. I’m no Olympian, but I was definitely good enough to make the team….

So?

On the day of the cuts, they sat us in the big gym and called us in one by one to a second gym where the three coaches sat in a semi circle to break the news. I was one of the last girls called. The head sophomore coach — call her Coach Jannie — starts in about how much I’ve improved and how well I’ve done and I’m thinking I’m in. Then she says, but….

She cut you?

I was in tears. My friends tried to console me. I went home, put my badminton racket away and I haven’t taken it out since….

And?

Nothing, really. Except….

Except what?

Well, I’d see this girl — call her Frannie — going to practice. I never understood how she made the team. She hadn’t played as a freshman. Badminton wasn’t even her best sport — field hockey was. She’s a good field hockey player….

Okay….

So one day I’m talking to a friend who was on the badminton team and I say, `I can’t understand how Frannie made the team.’ And my friend says, `you don’t know?’ And I say, `know what?’ And she tells me that Frannie had been busted for drinking and as a punishment the school makes athletes lose — I don’t know — a few weeks of eligibility….

You mean, they have to sit out?

Yes, sit out. So, like I said, Coach Jannie is the sophomore badminton coach. But she’s also the varsity field hockey coach. And Frannie is one of her best players. And so….

Oh, my God. It’s starting to dawn on me…..

To save Frannie a full season of eligibility in field hockey, Coach Jannie put her on the badminton team….

And that meant kicking you off?

She nodded.

Normally, I try not to swear in front of teenagers, cause I don’t know, I figure I should at least try to set a good example. But, in this case, I can’t help myself.

Aw, fuck….

She smiles….

That conniving, duplicitous, two timing little….

She laughs….

I lean closer and lower my voice like — I don’t know — the coach can hear us: Are you sure? Do you know for certain?

No, I don’t know for certain. But having sat out her drinking suspension during badminton, Frannie got to play a full season of field hockey. And she never went out for badminton again, so you draw your conclusion….

I think about the story all the way home. That coach was willing to screw up some kid’s life just to win a game or two of field hockey. Wow! I mean, okay, I can see basketball, but field hockey? (Just joking about the basketball, I think.)

Anyway, it turns out okay. Kimberly writes a great essay about not personalizing rejection — how in retrospect she realizes she should have tried out for the team again. As I see it, she turned a setback into a triumph and left a lesson for us all.

As for old Coach Jannie. What a loser — sold her soul for a few games of field hockey. I can’t imagine there are many who gave up more for less….