There is something calming about dull aches after a good workout. After the badminton I slothed over to my new (ahem) couch, repositioned the cushions and made friends with fairies until the brilliant sunshine that is uncharacteristically February set at 4.30pm. I woke up to Brad Friedel making yet another save on ESPN.

I remember my first badminton tournament. I was eleven or twelve, and the Kajang Zone tournament was held at Dewan Holy Family near Jalan Bukit. It remains in memory because I couldn’t find a pair of track bottoms to play in. I wore normal pants to the game, prompting our team teacher to ask me if I brought something to change into for the game. I shook my head, took to the court and happily got creamed by an awesome player from SRJK(C) Yu Hua to the tune of 11-2, 11-5.
Over the years, having played badminton all through high school and even university, I’ve noticed that the thing with badminton - which is probably true for all sports - is that you can learn the basic strokes, and you can learn the strategies, movements and techniques. If you play frequently enough, you can even execute trick shots just like the ones you see on tv. But while that trick shot, that super smash or that smart little net dink is something you or I can pull once every few games, top players do that time after time after time. Consistency.
And how else do you become consistent if not for hours and hours of drilling, of doing the same thing over and over and over again until it is perfected. I tell my second year accounting students, the only way to understand some accounting techniques is to apply them, and then continue to reapply them until it makes sense. Or, in the words that I use - do the exercises until you throw up, mop up the mess, wash your face and start again.
Malcolm Gladwell pointed this out in his book on Genius, arguing that 10,000 iterations is the minimum one needs to become a master - be it in the number of free kicks David Beckham executes every training session, or the number of times Yo-yo Ma stared that music sheet in the face.
So really, if I’d be willing to work on my short serve 9,500 more times, maybe that serve would eventually make it over the net.
