What will happen in China if they lose to India in badminton men’s team finals on Sunday. And why

Modern badminton is commonly believed to have traversed from Poona to the British countryside, and found its way to China at the start of the 20th century, introduced to students and teachers at YMCAs and schools in the major cities Beijing, Guangzhou and Chengdu. Tianjin apparently hosted China’s first Open badminton tournament at the start of 1930s, while Shanghai saw the skeletal origins of the formal association. The sport received an impetus in the 1950s when Chinese descent coaches from Indonesia brought technique and tactics returning to China, and the Indonesian teams regularly started playing with Chinese squads through the 50s.

By the mid-60s, the Chinese were beating the Danes, but China’s Cultural Revolution (1966–1976) would see the disbanding of provincial teams. When the sport returned, it flooded back with the entire might of the state support, encouraged by the regime as they viewed it as a mark of superior physical fitness and it proliferated socially in every corner street, played by families in back alleys even without nets on festivals, and 1974 saw the earliest talent scouting hunt for young champions through a junior tournament.

Even today, China has seven specialist badminton boarding schools, devoted solely to shuttle and has countless scientific papers published each year on the different dimensions of the sport. A season-long league runs through the year for professional teams and international success is closely treasured.

China’s Shi Yuqi reacts after winning a match. (Twitter/@YonexAllEngland)

China trails Indonesia on Thomas Cup counts 14-10, but they arrived on the scene with a bang winning on debut in 1982, and in 1987 they had all the five Individual and two team titles. Zhao Jian Hua was the original southpaw superstar of the 1980s in China – a precursor to the superstardom of Lin Dan. He barely knew badminton at 13 and was beating all the top global names by 19 owing to his slam bang style. Han Jian, or ‘sticky-candy’ played the steadier, cooler marathon games and won a lot. Yang Yang was the other 1980s hero who found early success, and all of them were dubbed the ‘Heavenly Kings’ – a sort of badminton divinity who pushed the game forward.It was a surprise when China didn’t medal big at 1992 Olympics i.e. no gold – they still had 5 medals – but since 1996 the juggernaut started revving up, and crescendoed at 2004 and 2008 and 2012, as the legend of Lin Dan took off. Li Lingwei and Zhang Ning were the early women stars, and Olympic champion Chen Yufei – incidentally from Hangzhou – is trying to shore up a slightly flagging dominance since 2015 in women’s singles. China won women’s doubles each time from 1996 to 2012, starting with Ge Fei and Gu Jun, for five editions. The coaching mantle passed on from the legendary Tang Xianhu to Li Yongbo who guided several players. Yet, nothing has quite matched the frenzy that Super Dan brought to badminton in China.

China’s famous rivalries with East Asian neighbours

The Hangzhou Games though – like every Games since Lin Dan retired – haven’t got a home shuttle star in men of the same calibre, though should the Chinese win the men’s singles or men’s doubles, they are bound to be elevated to instant stardom. The string of losses at big Games since Lin Dan and Fu Haifeng – Cai Yun in doubles have made the Chinese a tad stroppy. Though things got properly sour, when the men’s doubles jinpái (gold) at Tokyo Games juésài (finals), went to Taiwan’s Lee Yang and Wang Chi-lin who beat Chinese Liu Yuchen and Li Junhui leading to a salty Saturday.

Watching Taiwan’s first ever gold in badminton in a sport they had lorded for years, sent the nation reeling. To avoid listening to strains of Taiwan’s “National Flag Anthem” and watching the ‘Plum Blossom Banner’ — a white flag that features the Olympic rings – rise, Chinese state media reportedly cut short the broadcast of the medal ceremony.

The victory meant much to Chinese Taipei, and a netizen’s post with a suggestion of a flag for athletes of a badminton court with a dot representing the winning shot, which China challenged but was ruled ‘in’, went viral. While Chinese shuttlers have impeccable behavior on court and are mostly respectful towards opponents, the badminton rivalry with Taiwan, Japan and Korea and earlier with Malaysia in the days of Lee Chong Wei, can assume frigid undercurrents though nothing has ever brimmed over. Social media though has its fair share of trolls and has muddied waters in recent years.

East Asian sporting rivalries can get tetchy between the three powerhouses China, Japan and Korea, owing to their long history of territorial and political disputes, and Badminton matches do get intense.

There were reports after Tokyo that South Korea was seeking to complain about a Chinese Olympic silver medalist who repeatedly shouted “f*#k” in Mandarin Chinese during a match between the two teams. Women’s Doubles serial winner Chen Qingchen had to apologize for ‘mispronunciation’ as she mouthed ‘cao’ in Mandarin after scoring points multiple times. “Actually, it was just self-encouragement for winning points,” Chen would be quoted as saying, pledging, “I will adjust my pronunciation.” Qingchen is perhaps the best women’s doubles player currently, and the Chinese fans rallied around her in the aftermath.

While the current Chinese players starting with the affable Chen Long and now Shi Yuqi, He Bingjiao and Zheng Siwei – Huang Ya Qiong are fan favourites crossing Chinese borders, the fundamental equation between Chinese stars and their own fans has matured, where the populace is more empathetic to losses.

Chen Qingchen in fact requested fans to temper their expectations after her China Open doubles title win with Jia Yifan, in the leadup to the Paris Games. Qingchen, a triple world champion constantly reminded of the Olympics medal, had been coughing the whole week and was in discomfort saying, “My nerves have been tense all the time. Now I really need to give myself a break.” Fans would respond on her Weibo account asking her to rest up and eat well, adding how lucky they were to have the two. Earlier, Chen Yufei, incidentally hailing from Hangzhou, had posted about feeling burnt out and received support. The obsessive demand for ‘shènglì’ (wins) is a little less in decibel.

But badminton stars continue to be seen as ultimate heroes, and ‘Badminton warrior’ a 2D action platformer video game from a Chinese developer, looks to “fight evil with a badminton racquet.” At the badminton arena in Hangzhou, all event tickets are sold out, as Chen Yufei looking for viewing seats for her family, told People’s Daily, “The ticket sale is too hot. It is just hard to find seats.”

Chinese success has lasted long in badminton. But even when they don’t win as much as before, the sport holds a strange hold over the Chinese. They might not be as famous as the Istora Senayan where Indonesians scream their hearts out. But badminton at Hangzhou will be far from merely tepid tea-sipping and polite applause for whoever has won.