Last year I went to play badminton with my friend Jon. Yes, it turned out he was a member of the local racket (hey-ohhhhh!) and was in the business of casually inviting friends to join him for a night as his Doubles Partner. Now badminton, like all sports, was completely foreign to me so I had a pile of excuses ready when he asked including: “I don’t have a racquet”, “I don’t have a ball”, “I don’t know how to play”, and finally my trusty failsafe “No.” But Jon would have none of it. “Come on, I’ll pick you up and drop you off. You can use my extra equipment and I’ll bring a bottle of water for you. Plus, the guys there are really easy going and casual. You’ll have a great time. Come on, it’ll be fun.” There was a bit of a Mexican standoff as we sized each other up, squinted a bit, and jutted our chins out, but eventually I sucked it up, threw on some sweatpants, and went along for the ride. Turns out Jon was a liar. I entered the dimly lit high-school gymnasium to the sight of…
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