I was playing badminton with my grandpa (a fictional character) at a public gym. At that time, there was only one court left. Every badminton court was actually just half the court and a wall in the center where the net was expected to be. On the wall there was a black board.
The way of playing badminton was to hit the shuttlecock to aim particular spots on the blackboard, all marked on a grid, like squash combined with archery.
At our last court, not only my grandpa and I, but also a small kid and his team composed of his coach and aunts and uncles, were playing. The kid was very rude. He continuously encroached upon my space was acted like he had lots to back him.
I was mad at him. With each serve, he took up more of my space and became more at the center.
My grandpa and I could hold it no more. I hit a shuttlecock which landed precisely at the grid origin point on the blackboard. (The blackboard had 10 rows and my shuttlecock hit the 5th.) It was hit so forcefully that it got stuck in the black board.
I spoke loudly，“you are the coach’s student but you are not the only one in the club.”
WOKE
