Boorish

It must be all that TV that addled my brain, but since I don't watch TV that often, I have no other recourse but to blame everything on Marat Safin's blog. That temperamental Russian who's been known for his racket-breaking antics on court. Still don't know the guy? Well, one of Jessica Zafra's cats was named after him. Don't know Jessica Zafra? Oh, bugger off. The dude apparently has a blog and there he tries to talk about himself off-court.

But anyway, I'm the star of this entry so forget about him.

I acted horribly in my event last Saturday. For sure I would have been cited for racket abuse had it been a formal tournament instead of an organization's activity. I couldn't remember the number of times I threw my racket in frustration. As if I could afford to buy another one these days.

I can always say that its one of the eccentricities of passionate players. Passionate players my ass. My behaviour was boorish to say the least. The good thing about badminton courts is that most of the time, they have this taraflex material. Some rubber mat they place over the actual courts so that no matter how hard you slam your racket, if you have no intention of breaking it, then your racket wont break.

Which is something you can't say about Marat Safin. In the Kremlin Cup, he started with 8 rackets and ended it with 4 or 3, if this earlier racket throwing incident was successful.

The thing about blowing your top is that although you're just letting off steam, those around you may get scalded. I hope I didn't offend my playing partner last Saturday. I did go out of my way though, to ensure that he wasn't offended. Still, I really couldn't say that all's well that end's well. Some folks actually saw my outburst, and for someone who prides himself in being cool and calculating, last weekend was a betrayal. Worthy enough for some sanctimonious insults. And deservedly so.