You tell me who is running women’s sport, and I will show you whose daughter is still waiting for a new blouse because the good thread got priced out of the bazaar. My daughter wants to play badminton for her school team, but the federation’s fancy board has no time for a mother who counts each reel of cotton. Last month I heard a man on the radio say “level playing field,” and I laughed till my shoulders ached — bas, from this verandah I can see that the ones who make the rules have never sat on a rented stool, stitching uniforms for other people’s children.