An Se-Young is a wunderkind. She is a superstar. Now, she is the face of a revolution.
An Se-Young first burst onto the badminton stage as a 16-year-old schoolgirl who stunned the world and Tai Tzu Ying, considered all but invincible at the peak of her career, by defeating the then-World Number 1 in 66 riveting minutes. As the Taiwanese shuttler delighted the audience with her outrageous angles, breathtaking deceptions, and delightful stroke play to take the first game 21-14, there was an altogether different script that had started to unfold on the other side of the court – one of relentless court-coverage, rock-solid defense, an uncanny ability to find spaces on the court and stamina belying her young age.
That, coupled with the steely nerves defining her as a player, saw An Se-Young take the next two games, the match, and the badminton world’s undivided attention. That would see her add two former Olympic champions, one World Champion, and a string of other illustrious names to her list of conquests in 2019. After Mia Audina, badminton had finally found an undisputed prodigy.
As Se-Young rose and rose and rose. The short crop of hair grew out, the smile got wider, the celebrations louder, and the gameplay ever more well-rounded. While her badminton was an armor whose chinks were incrementally ironed out – the characteristic dives accentuated by efficient footwork, the natural court awareness refined by match experience, the impenetrable defense complemented by greater physical power and attack – her personality transformed to be almost unrecognizable.
Within a year, An went from being a hesitant speaker who was self-admittedly awkward around senior players to being a confident athlete who was bold on the court and entirely at peace with herself off it. She gelled with the team, joked with the media, clicked selfies with the fans, and won many tournaments.
She became the World Champion (World #1), and Anders Antonsen’s favorite player. She made Forbes’ Asia 30 under 30. She declared that she would rather enjoy the spotlight than feel pressured by it. After Lin Dan and Lee Chong Wei, badminton finally found an unrivaled superstar.
Leading up to Paris 2024, not many people expected anyone other than the Korean to return with the gold medal hung around her neck. What absolutely nobody expected was that she would talk of quitting the national team in the post-tournament press conference – dropping bombshells about the Badminton Korea Association that would shake not just the badminton world but the entire sports culture of South Korea.
Photo courtesy The Korea Times
An’s allegations were many and damning. Her knee injury was mismanaged by the BKA, leading to a misdiagnosis and much (avoidable) pain. She was made to re-string her seniors’ racquets, clean their rooms, and wash male athletes’ underwear. She was bullied and unsupported by the team through all of this – because this was part of the ‘culture’ of Korean badminton that enforced an unwritten hierarchy of age and gender.
“Shouldn’t we reflect on this?” she threw out a question of her own to the interviewers. The weight of her words was enough that South Korea’s President would remark on eliminating outdated customs and practices.
In the wake of her statements, An faced censure as much as support from all corners of the badminton world. Fans and fellow athletes demanded investigations, with many calling for her to join an increasingly high-profile list of independent players who train outside their national federations. Yet, some criticized her for speaking out and dismissed her accusations. Her teammates were forbidden from practicing with her and helping her warm up. Her coach told her to leave the national team if she wanted to do things independently. For the outside world, she was a symbol of resistance against an outdated hierarchy of power masquerading as culture. Within the team, she was an outcast.
She broke down in further interviews, made her social media private, and pointedly ignored her coaches at her comeback tournament in the Denmark Open (and was later stripped of all coaching facilities by the BKA in the final of the game, where she lost to a clinical Wang Zhiyi). She confessed later about struggling to find her purpose and joy in playing badminton.
But she was no stranger to enduring relentless attacks on the court and wouldn’t give up on it. She would dive halfway across the court to reach the sharpest slices, bend low to retrieve the steepest smashes, return to the shuttle with interest, and turn things around to close off the rally in her favor. Her opponent was her badminton federation, fiercer than Tai Tzu Ying, Chen Yufei, Akane Yamaguchi, PV Sindhu, and all the rest of them. Yet, badminton had shaped An Se-Young’s personality, and some lessons aren’t just learned from the net.
“My anger has been the fuel that has helped me realize my dream,” she stated, unyielding before a Korean news outlet. “I wanted to have my voice heard. In a way, that has been my dream.”
And with that, badminton had found its first true revolutionary, willing to put everything on the line to fight against something far beyond the 44 x 7 square feet of the court.
The world listened. Korea’s Ministry of Culture, Sports, and Tourism launched a two-month investigation into the BKA, confirming what An had said and more. The BKA President was fired over multiple charges of verbal abuse and embezzlement of funds. Reforms addressing precisely the concerns raised by An were announced – improved injury management, better living conditions at training centers, personalized training programs, access to personal trainers, more freedom to the players over income sources and sponsorships, guaranteed rest periods after tournaments, and abolishing the practice of younger players doing household chores for older players. Many of these reforms were promised for badminton and all sports in South Korea – something beyond anyone’s anticipation.
One athlete’s speaking out upended a whole culture. Sports, not just Korean and badminton, should thank An Se-Young for her courage.
Despite the far-extending implications of her actions, badminton continues to be plagued with challenges and allegations of insensitivity towards players. Beiwen Zhang recently voiced out her frustration at being forced to play tournament after tournament while relying on crowdfunding to manage her travel and having no sparring partners. Chen Yufei had expressed her mental and physical distress after winning the Olympic gold in 2020, feeling the need to take a break from the sport she loved because she couldn’t go on like a machine anymore. Viktor Axelsen amplified their concerns and pulled up the Badminton World Federation over its punishing schedule and strict rules for top athletes.
Much of this took place independently of An Se-Young’s actions. Still, there can be no doubt that she has effected a fundamental shift in the attitude of everyone involved in badminton – players, administrators, fans, federations – by using her influence for something she believed in. There is a long way to go, and many players are pushing for much more expansive reforms in the sport itself. Juniors and aspiring shuttlers are watching on, encouraged, and empowered, feeling they have a stake in a more sustainable future for their sport. An Se-Young has played a critical role in that.
“I’ve had to bounce back, pick myself up, and put a lot of thought into what is required of me. Now that I’ve achieved this good result, I’m also thinking about what else I need to do to fulfill my responsibility as an athlete,” she smiled radiantly at the China Masters, winning her first tournament after the Olympics and the saga that followed.
So, the battle continues, the rallies are drawn out, the defense has been tested, and so has the will. The future is uncertain, but one thing is clear.
An Se-Young won the match.
