A smashing success

IUpon entering a badminton court, it’s easy to distinguish the "real" players from the hobbyists. The knee pads, the no-nonsense clothes, the aggressive, almost tense, badminton stance, with one leg in front of the other, arm upraised ready to smash the offending shuttlecock – all of these are signs of the obsessive, people who have dedicated themselves to the sport long before it became the "in" thing that it is today.

So it’s surprising to see Karyn Velez walk into the badminton court without any of the obvious signs. She is a lanky teen, dressed in sensible sports clothes with a demure, somewhat reserved, air about her. She is also the JVC girl’s singles champion for the 16 and under category.

With her hair tied in a neat ponytail and pearl earrings decorating her lobes, it’s difficult to imagine this diffident girl to be the recent champion of a major badminton tournament. But that’s the thing about badminton – it’s a deceptive sport.

While major athletes of other sports tend to look like champions, badminton players seem a tad different. More low-key certainly, but there’s also something else lacking. While tennis matches receive major media attention, badminton is perceived more as a trendy form of exercise, a fashionable hobby, not really as a competitive field for athletes.

Karyn Velez, wants to change that. "I’d like to join the 2008 Olympics," she shares, her face deadpan, as though it were normal for a 14-year-old girl to list the Olympic games as one of her goals.

"Since I was a kid, I really wanted to be good at badminton and win competitions," she explains. "And I’m winning now, so it’s time to go international." You can’t help but admire the sheer self-confidence that colors Karyn’s responses. There’s a self-assurance there that makes her seem wiser than her years, a poise that is enviable for a fourteener but then she’ll say something to remind you that she’s still, really, just a child.

Losing is part of any game, and Karyn Velez has had her share of it. "It’s not easy to lose," she says quietly. "When I’m defeated, I usually feel bad, so I cry." She tilts her head and looks me in the eye. "I don’t like losing."

That’s surprising for a person who wasn’t even good at the sport to begin with. "Oh, Karyn was horrible when she started playing badminton," Joffer Velez, her father, says bluntly. "She showed no promise whatsoever. But after years of determined practice, she’s now a champion," he finishes proudly. "Karyn, you see, has drive and ambition. We know she’ll be going places."

Her first stop? Beating everyone who defeated her. Raquel Guerrero, ranked no. 1 player under the junior’s category, was one of those people. She lost to Karyn at the JVC tournament last week.

Still flushed from her recent success, it’s easy to see that life is not always easy for the winners. A first-year student at St. Paul’s Pasig, she attends school from only 1-4 pm. Mornings are reserved for training practice. And the afternoons? It’s back to the courts after school for even more training. It’s a rigorous schedule, one that can strain anyone’s energy. But Karyn seems unfazed by it all.

"I normally go home after practice. I do my homework and study, then maybe a little TV after," is how Karyn sums up what she does after all the training and schoolwork. I couldn’t help but wonder if she had a life – whether she went out with friends and cruised the mall, doing nothing and everything, like I did during those important formative years.

"Oh, I go out with my friends," Karyn says, nodding. "We normally watch a movie or go to Timezone. We don’t stay out too late." It’s the stuff parents dream of – obedient children going to the mall to hang out then heading home soon after. I ask if her parents are strict, and as soon as the question leaves my lips, I detect a slight, almost imperceptible, roll of the eyes.

"My parents are really strict," she answers matter-of-factly. There’s no teen-angst in this kid, that’s for sure. "They tell me to sleep early, to eat vegetables…" her voice trails off, "That kind of thing."

I have to shake my head at Karyn. She’s so politically correct, it’s almost frustrating. How can a 14-year-old be so proper? I wanted some spark, some assurance that underneath that poise, there was some kind of playfulness lurking underneath.

"So do you also play badminton with your friends for fun?" I ask finally, getting ready to conclude the interview.

"Yeah, I do actually," she responds.

"And are you competitive with them?" I probe, hoping to see whether she was passionate about the game outside of official tournaments.

She thinks for a second and slowly answers, "No, I’m not really competitive with them." My face falls at the politically correct answer. "Well," she adds after a pause, "I don’t really have to be."

I can’t help but smile. Atta, girl.