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The Birth of the Samosa Badminton Club: A Saga of Shuttles, Sweat & Snacks

Way back in 2002, when flip phones were cool and “Netflix” meant DVDs in the mail, a bunch of friendly sports-loving desis (including yours truly) decided that just working 9-to-5 wasn’t enough-we needed some smashing action. Cricket was the go-to summer fling, but it turns out badminton was the perfect year-round relationship: indoors, intense, and didn’t depend on the weather or finding eleven other people who owned white pants.

Enter Harry a.k.a. Haranath Somaraju, our original captain, treasurer, event planner, and part-time bouncer. He ran the show with a pocket-sized account book that looked like it came free with a Biryani combo. If you paid your share, you had to get your name written down—no receipt, no rally.

We started at Birkenhead Library-yes, a library with a multipurpose court, complete with confusing volleyball, basketball, and possibly hopscotch lines. The badminton net was DIY; we had to put it up before and take it down after every game, like gym staff without the pay.

That same year, Bharat unlocked the holy grail-a court access card for Waitakere Badminton on Royal Road. It felt like we’d just been promoted from backyard league to semi-pros (at least in our own heads). We barely filled two courts at the time, but kept going, one shuttle at a time. The group was mostly made up of Indian migrants trying to smash birdies and forget their weekday job woes.

Fast-forward to 2015, when Harry decided to chase his Melbourne dreams and handed over the reins to Ram Prakash-a man with more patience than a Wi-Fi router in a Zoom meeting. Court bookings were tough, turnout was tougher, and sometimes we just played “best of 3” with ourselves.

Around this time, Avadhaniji and his famously not-so-punctual crew joined us. Eventually, his squad decided it was easier to just join the early birds than reinvent the shuttle.

Meanwhile, a rogue group of badminton rebels-Ranjeet, Srikanth, Vishnu, Rakesh, Surya, and Karthik-were playing solo missions on the other side of the court. After a year of strategic mingling (and probably borrowing our shuttles), they merged with us. Srikanth was promoted to management-mostly because he was the only one who remembered everyone’s birthdays.

Michael, the Tuesday badminton boss, gracefully retired from management, passing the baton (or racquet?) to the Saturday group. We opened bank accounts for both sessions-because apparently, even friendly badminton clubs need financial governance and spreadsheets.

Enter Girish, a seasoned club-runner who brought reinforcements. Thanks to his troops, we expanded like a successful franchise. Now, we book 5 to 6 courts every Saturday, 7–9 AM, while the rest of Auckland sleeps. Morning games now come with VIP perks: Venu, Jai, and Ram bring tea (the real MVPs), and Maheshbhai ceremoniously starts the day by recording the first game, possibly for future Netflix rights.

Harry, never one to miss a celebration, started the tradition of bachelor parties and family get-togethers, which now include birthday dinners and annual gatherings where we pretend we remember each other’s kids’ names.

We even added seasonal tournaments-summer and winter-featuring a shiny trophy proudly sponsored by San Elango from Tyre King, because nothing says “elite badminton” like a trophy funded by a tyre shop.

Now we’re working on custom T-shirts for our crew under our now-official and mouth-watering club name: Samosa Badminton Club. Why samosa? Because like the snack, we’re golden, stuffed with variety, a little spicy, and everyone loves us.

Of course, many have come, played, and moved on to other clubs or countries-but every shuttle hit, tea shared, and samosa eaten is part of the legend we keep alive every Saturday.