you cannot reach out to someone who doesn't want your help. that is what i've always believed. you can bash them around the ears, knock them on the head, shout til you lose your voice - nothing you say will register with them. and nothing you do will be appreciated.
yet, when you yourself are in that situation, where you want to reach out and help someone, you convince yourself that you can make a difference, if you try hard enough, show enough that you care - that things can be different for them. that no matter how alone they feel, they will always have someone they can rely on.
then you just beat yourself up when they don't understand what you are trying to do. worse still, when they don't appreciate it. why did you bother? because at one (brief) point in time, you meant a lot to each other. for your own reasons, maybe, but the understanding and trust were there. now it floats, tiny little particles from the shattered relationship that was once so precious. no one can put humpty together again.
Monday, 18 August 2008
Tuesday, 12 August 2008
My Olympics
Futsal fever was over without a high - we came in second, losing out on penalties after a 0-0 draw after extra time. People say that losing on penalties is perfectly respectable, that it came down to luck, and that we can be proud of the fact that we won the league - 10 points from 4 matches. But we were playing to win - who wasn't? We had the confidence in ourselves and we just felt that it should not even have gone to penalties. Then there's the whole issue of the referees stuffing up the spot kicks, but I won't go into that.
I knew the captain of our rivals in the finals through a mutual friend, and we had gone to see the Chelsea-Malaysia match the week prior to the competition. I spoke to her yesterday, and learnt that firstly, their team hadn't realised that the referees had stuffed up the penalties, and secondly, a few of them were wondering why I was not assigned to take one of the penalty kicks (I had actually taken the second spot kick, which was after our keeper had saved their player's kick, so they were probably not paying much attention to me).
Having not gotten over one game (mentally, emotionally, physically), I now have to turn my thoughts to another. One that I have long had a love-hate relationship with. At the moment, it is intense hate. And after the pressure to perform and carry the team in the last one, I now have to listen to my colleague and teammate remind me, like a broken record, that I have to win all my matches and that I am one of the 3 whom the team is really counting on to carry them through. Thanks very much. I know these things should be a compliment, but I do consider myself a sportsperson. I strive to perform to the best of my abilities, and am capable of pushing myself when the occasion calls for it. I do not need someone constantly in my ear (as I work with this fellow, I see him all day every day), overthinking the whole bloody situation and transferring his stress to me. I will play because it is a team sport. I said I will, and if they want me to, then it is a commitment that I will fulfill. That's the long and short of it.
The situation with my 'friends' does not help, and the ones I want to talk to are not in the office. What a way to start my day, eh?
I knew the captain of our rivals in the finals through a mutual friend, and we had gone to see the Chelsea-Malaysia match the week prior to the competition. I spoke to her yesterday, and learnt that firstly, their team hadn't realised that the referees had stuffed up the penalties, and secondly, a few of them were wondering why I was not assigned to take one of the penalty kicks (I had actually taken the second spot kick, which was after our keeper had saved their player's kick, so they were probably not paying much attention to me).
Having not gotten over one game (mentally, emotionally, physically), I now have to turn my thoughts to another. One that I have long had a love-hate relationship with. At the moment, it is intense hate. And after the pressure to perform and carry the team in the last one, I now have to listen to my colleague and teammate remind me, like a broken record, that I have to win all my matches and that I am one of the 3 whom the team is really counting on to carry them through. Thanks very much. I know these things should be a compliment, but I do consider myself a sportsperson. I strive to perform to the best of my abilities, and am capable of pushing myself when the occasion calls for it. I do not need someone constantly in my ear (as I work with this fellow, I see him all day every day), overthinking the whole bloody situation and transferring his stress to me. I will play because it is a team sport. I said I will, and if they want me to, then it is a commitment that I will fulfill. That's the long and short of it.
The situation with my 'friends' does not help, and the ones I want to talk to are not in the office. What a way to start my day, eh?
Thursday, 7 August 2008
Eyes Wide Shut
So much for getting lots of rest the night before a tournament! It's 4.15am and I've had maybe a half hour's sleep
Wednesday, 6 August 2008
Futsalx3
The girl is crazy about futsal. But at the same time, it is now driving her crazy. She doesn't know what she's doing anymore, no idea what she used to do, and how that made her a decent player. Or so people told her. No idea if she has improved, or whether her game has deteriorated. Will no one tell her the truth?
When the weight and expectation of the team are on one's shoulders, in this moment of uncertainty, she needs reassurance. But from whom? Who would be able or willing to give her the assurance and the confidence she needs at this crucial time? She wants to think that she can stand on her own, but in this moment she is desperate for some help. There are only 2 people she wants to listen to right now, but one can't, and the other won't.
What her teammates tell her is touching, but it means little in this moment. What people watching for the first time say, whilst flattering, means (possibly) even less. This girl struggles to walk with her head held high, despite the many compliments. She cannot take them to heart, must not let them go to her head. There is much work to be done yet.
But she doesn't feel right. For someone who has played the game for some years, and loved it for many more, she feels out of place, out of sorts. She believes that the honest opinion, the fair judgment, the informed advice she seeks will not come and she will have to learn to cope on her own.
She has to find something to play for. Something to make it meaningful. She thought she had it: her coach, the team, her friends, her firm. This is just not what she imagined it would be like. She had expected more, only to be increasingly disappointed as the weeks go by. But it's almost over. For now, she has to find a purpose to focus on. Just 24 more hours, that is all.
From now, she plays with the team, but for herself. That is what she had been told to do all along. Because long after this is over, she may not have the team, the coach, certainly not the firm. How? she used to wonder, for it is a team sport. Now she gets it. She does not mind the recognition for whatever they want to recognise, but it has never been about personal glory. She got more than she bargained for, and lost it all just as quickly. She has learnt her lesson: she will have to be self-reliant to survive. Simple as that.
When the weight and expectation of the team are on one's shoulders, in this moment of uncertainty, she needs reassurance. But from whom? Who would be able or willing to give her the assurance and the confidence she needs at this crucial time? She wants to think that she can stand on her own, but in this moment she is desperate for some help. There are only 2 people she wants to listen to right now, but one can't, and the other won't.
What her teammates tell her is touching, but it means little in this moment. What people watching for the first time say, whilst flattering, means (possibly) even less. This girl struggles to walk with her head held high, despite the many compliments. She cannot take them to heart, must not let them go to her head. There is much work to be done yet.
But she doesn't feel right. For someone who has played the game for some years, and loved it for many more, she feels out of place, out of sorts. She believes that the honest opinion, the fair judgment, the informed advice she seeks will not come and she will have to learn to cope on her own.
She has to find something to play for. Something to make it meaningful. She thought she had it: her coach, the team, her friends, her firm. This is just not what she imagined it would be like. She had expected more, only to be increasingly disappointed as the weeks go by. But it's almost over. For now, she has to find a purpose to focus on. Just 24 more hours, that is all.
From now, she plays with the team, but for herself. That is what she had been told to do all along. Because long after this is over, she may not have the team, the coach, certainly not the firm. How? she used to wonder, for it is a team sport. Now she gets it. She does not mind the recognition for whatever they want to recognise, but it has never been about personal glory. She got more than she bargained for, and lost it all just as quickly. She has learnt her lesson: she will have to be self-reliant to survive. Simple as that.
Sunday, 3 August 2008
Manila/Bad news/Officially a darter
I knew it'd been a while since my last entry, but 4 weeks?! Whoooops. Training has taken over my life.
A quick summary, if that's at all possible, on what's gone down in the last 2 fortnights:
Kimbie, Justin and Bill arrived from Hong Kong on Friday night after my last post. Kimbie ha requested beforehand that we take them for a dinner of Malaysian food straight from the airport, and the first suggestion my relatives had was... banana leaf. I suggested the one at Bangsar, rather than in PJ, because I didn't really fancy the idea of driving to PJ, especially when I didn't know what time I'd be done with work. So we met there, had a magnificent chat with Kimbie, Justin, Gary and a younger cousin who probably heard a lot more than she should have...
Jeremy came up to visit from Singapore for 2 days over the weekend. Unfortunately I was so tired from all the training and work so I didn't take him out to see the night life. Luckily, he had friends here who could cover for my atrocious hospitality skills, and they apparently stayed out til about 4am... The next morning, we went to grab a coffee near the guesthouse, on Changkat Bukit Bintang. I only wanted a coffee, because we were intending to go somewhere else for lunch (which didn't eventuate), and the coffee I had was pretty decent, and at RM6.50 was probably the cheapest espresso-based coffee that I've had in KL! The breakfast menu of fry-ups looked pretty good too, so I shall have to find time to venture out that way again in future to try it out.
I had taken 3 days off work the following week to go for a family holiday in Manila. I knew that this meant I'd probably have to stay back in the office a bit on Tuesday to sort work out. I tried to do it as quickly as I could so that I could attend darts training at the pub. The coach and I finally got to training (more than) a little late, and he'd forgotten that he had the darts, so the other guys couldn't start training til we got there! After training, the coach got some very sad news, and I had no idea what to say to console or show support. I mean, I tried, but I'm not sure I was very good at it.
Left for Manila the next day, had a great holiday with the folks and siblings. Tours around Manila, riding on donkey/pony/horseback up Taal, the smallest volcano in the world, eating feast after feast including lunch at Antonio's in Tagaytay (heaven on Earth, I tell you!!) and a teensy weensy bit of shopping (because my aunt just would not accept that you didn't shop while you were in Manila).
Top left in the series of photos above is a picture of the ECJ Building. ECJ stands for Eduardo Cojuangco Jr, the man who is the chairman of San Miguel Corporation. That's right, the company behind the beer of the same name. I think that was one of the most exciting pieces of information LOL. In the Philippines, San Miguel Corp apparently goes much further beyond the production of beer - it is the largest food and beverage corporation in the Philippines, according to online resource NationMaster.
At bottom right in the photos is a picture of the ceiling inside St Agustin church, which is the only church in Manila that survived the bombings of WWII by sheer virtue of the fact that it was the HQ of the Red Cross. Looks pretty grand, doesn't it? The other special fact about this church apart from its survival of WWII is that the walls and ceilings inside the church fool the eye - it looks 3D, but most everything is 2D, including glass windows 'containing' status of Mary and other biblical figures.
Back from the Philippines, darts training continued, and on Tuesday 22nd July, I played my first darts competition, and we won, beating Ferrier Hodgson narrowly. We lost the 2 men's singles, and Jade (our captain) needed to win the women's singles for us to stay in the tournament. She did so with a cool demeanour, something I'm not sure I'd have managed if I had been in the same situation. And I very nearly was, for my teammates had not thought that Ferrier Hodgson would put some such opposition, and wanted to play me in the singles. I asked not to be, given that the day of the tournament would only be the 10th time I had played darts, and was mercifully absolved of the responsibility, remaining instead as partner to my coach in the mixed doubles. After Jade's win, we won the men's doubles and it was up to the coach and I to seal the win and take EY into the semi's. Some of my teammates kept telling me, you could be the heroine tonight. Yeah, thanks guys. No pressure!
As it turned out, I scored pretty decently in first game (I don't quite know what the right term is: game/set/round?) (winner is decided on best of 3 games). The coach wasn't his usual confident self, it being a week after he received the sad news, and he had lost the first singles. I managed to cover for us in terms of score, but couldn't check out (finish the game by landing a double). Thankfully, the coach managed to do it after a few rounds of going back and forth with our opponents. In the second game, my scores were very low, but the coach's confidence was building up, and he kept us within reasonable reach of the opponents, though we were trailing. They got to the check-out stage maybe 2 rounds before we did and again it was back and forth while each team prayed really hard that their player would, by some stroke of luck, hit a house and they would qualify for the semi's. On our team, everyone, myself included expected the coach to finish the game. That was our plan before the tournament - I could score reasonably well, so between him and I, we should race to the check-out stage and then he could finish without the opponents getting too close. Best laid plans! In the second game, I was doing so badly that whenever it was my turn to try and check out, I was just a giggling bundle of nerves. I think I used up my concentration in the first game. Anyway, blah blah blah. By some miraculous fluke, I managed to send my dart into the right house - a 5: a house I'd been trying to get in training on the Sunday before for hours, and had finally given up on in frustration! My teammates started cheering while I just stood stunned for a few seconds. I just didn't know what to do, and I don't think I felt the joy of landing the house til the next day! Sadly, we lost to PwC in the semi's the following Friday in the first 3 match-ups, so I didn't get to play. Regardless, it was a great experience, so nice to be part of a team, and to meet new people too.
The following week passed without too much excitement - work, squash training, a futsal friendly that didn't go too well and a coach who was a touch frustrated that we couldn't seem to perform as well in a friendly as we did in training. That 'mini' drama was over soon enough.
On Tuesday this week, I went to watch the Malaysia-Chelsea match with the coach, a teammate, another guy from the office, and the futsal captain of another firm's team. I have been driving a lot lately, so I didn't particularly fancy the thought of driving in peak hour traffic to Shah Alam Stadium. So the coach made a deal with my futsal teammate: she would get a free ticket if she drove, but she had to drive the 'good' car, with air-conditioning and working lights and windscreen wipers (there's a whole other story behind this condition). It was fun until the coach got a second lot of not-great news which resulted in his booking a flight back to his hometown for the next morning.
Where he has been ever since and probably won't be back in time for the tournament on Tuesday. I've always wanted to win this tournament, there's no doubt about it. We have a replacement coach, who seems quite upbeat about our performance in another practice match that we had on Thursday night. The original coach has always put high hopes on me, and put in additional time to teach me a couple of tricks and help me (and other players) improve our individual skills. Even through personal and physical pain. So it seems so important that we do our very best to recognise what he has done. I hope we at least make it to the finals. Last year, our firm finished second so we have to at least equal that.
I haven't had the time to watch Batman yet!
A quick summary, if that's at all possible, on what's gone down in the last 2 fortnights:
Kimbie, Justin and Bill arrived from Hong Kong on Friday night after my last post. Kimbie ha requested beforehand that we take them for a dinner of Malaysian food straight from the airport, and the first suggestion my relatives had was... banana leaf. I suggested the one at Bangsar, rather than in PJ, because I didn't really fancy the idea of driving to PJ, especially when I didn't know what time I'd be done with work. So we met there, had a magnificent chat with Kimbie, Justin, Gary and a younger cousin who probably heard a lot more than she should have...
Jeremy came up to visit from Singapore for 2 days over the weekend. Unfortunately I was so tired from all the training and work so I didn't take him out to see the night life. Luckily, he had friends here who could cover for my atrocious hospitality skills, and they apparently stayed out til about 4am... The next morning, we went to grab a coffee near the guesthouse, on Changkat Bukit Bintang. I only wanted a coffee, because we were intending to go somewhere else for lunch (which didn't eventuate), and the coffee I had was pretty decent, and at RM6.50 was probably the cheapest espresso-based coffee that I've had in KL! The breakfast menu of fry-ups looked pretty good too, so I shall have to find time to venture out that way again in future to try it out.
I had taken 3 days off work the following week to go for a family holiday in Manila. I knew that this meant I'd probably have to stay back in the office a bit on Tuesday to sort work out. I tried to do it as quickly as I could so that I could attend darts training at the pub. The coach and I finally got to training (more than) a little late, and he'd forgotten that he had the darts, so the other guys couldn't start training til we got there! After training, the coach got some very sad news, and I had no idea what to say to console or show support. I mean, I tried, but I'm not sure I was very good at it.
Left for Manila the next day, had a great holiday with the folks and siblings. Tours around Manila, riding on donkey/pony/horseback up Taal, the smallest volcano in the world, eating feast after feast including lunch at Antonio's in Tagaytay (heaven on Earth, I tell you!!) and a teensy weensy bit of shopping (because my aunt just would not accept that you didn't shop while you were in Manila).
Top left in the series of photos above is a picture of the ECJ Building. ECJ stands for Eduardo Cojuangco Jr, the man who is the chairman of San Miguel Corporation. That's right, the company behind the beer of the same name. I think that was one of the most exciting pieces of information LOL. In the Philippines, San Miguel Corp apparently goes much further beyond the production of beer - it is the largest food and beverage corporation in the Philippines, according to online resource NationMaster.
At bottom right in the photos is a picture of the ceiling inside St Agustin church, which is the only church in Manila that survived the bombings of WWII by sheer virtue of the fact that it was the HQ of the Red Cross. Looks pretty grand, doesn't it? The other special fact about this church apart from its survival of WWII is that the walls and ceilings inside the church fool the eye - it looks 3D, but most everything is 2D, including glass windows 'containing' status of Mary and other biblical figures.
Back from the Philippines, darts training continued, and on Tuesday 22nd July, I played my first darts competition, and we won, beating Ferrier Hodgson narrowly. We lost the 2 men's singles, and Jade (our captain) needed to win the women's singles for us to stay in the tournament. She did so with a cool demeanour, something I'm not sure I'd have managed if I had been in the same situation. And I very nearly was, for my teammates had not thought that Ferrier Hodgson would put some such opposition, and wanted to play me in the singles. I asked not to be, given that the day of the tournament would only be the 10th time I had played darts, and was mercifully absolved of the responsibility, remaining instead as partner to my coach in the mixed doubles. After Jade's win, we won the men's doubles and it was up to the coach and I to seal the win and take EY into the semi's. Some of my teammates kept telling me, you could be the heroine tonight. Yeah, thanks guys. No pressure!
As it turned out, I scored pretty decently in first game (I don't quite know what the right term is: game/set/round?) (winner is decided on best of 3 games). The coach wasn't his usual confident self, it being a week after he received the sad news, and he had lost the first singles. I managed to cover for us in terms of score, but couldn't check out (finish the game by landing a double). Thankfully, the coach managed to do it after a few rounds of going back and forth with our opponents. In the second game, my scores were very low, but the coach's confidence was building up, and he kept us within reasonable reach of the opponents, though we were trailing. They got to the check-out stage maybe 2 rounds before we did and again it was back and forth while each team prayed really hard that their player would, by some stroke of luck, hit a house and they would qualify for the semi's. On our team, everyone, myself included expected the coach to finish the game. That was our plan before the tournament - I could score reasonably well, so between him and I, we should race to the check-out stage and then he could finish without the opponents getting too close. Best laid plans! In the second game, I was doing so badly that whenever it was my turn to try and check out, I was just a giggling bundle of nerves. I think I used up my concentration in the first game. Anyway, blah blah blah. By some miraculous fluke, I managed to send my dart into the right house - a 5: a house I'd been trying to get in training on the Sunday before for hours, and had finally given up on in frustration! My teammates started cheering while I just stood stunned for a few seconds. I just didn't know what to do, and I don't think I felt the joy of landing the house til the next day! Sadly, we lost to PwC in the semi's the following Friday in the first 3 match-ups, so I didn't get to play. Regardless, it was a great experience, so nice to be part of a team, and to meet new people too.
The following week passed without too much excitement - work, squash training, a futsal friendly that didn't go too well and a coach who was a touch frustrated that we couldn't seem to perform as well in a friendly as we did in training. That 'mini' drama was over soon enough.
On Tuesday this week, I went to watch the Malaysia-Chelsea match with the coach, a teammate, another guy from the office, and the futsal captain of another firm's team. I have been driving a lot lately, so I didn't particularly fancy the thought of driving in peak hour traffic to Shah Alam Stadium. So the coach made a deal with my futsal teammate: she would get a free ticket if she drove, but she had to drive the 'good' car, with air-conditioning and working lights and windscreen wipers (there's a whole other story behind this condition). It was fun until the coach got a second lot of not-great news which resulted in his booking a flight back to his hometown for the next morning.
Where he has been ever since and probably won't be back in time for the tournament on Tuesday. I've always wanted to win this tournament, there's no doubt about it. We have a replacement coach, who seems quite upbeat about our performance in another practice match that we had on Thursday night. The original coach has always put high hopes on me, and put in additional time to teach me a couple of tricks and help me (and other players) improve our individual skills. Even through personal and physical pain. So it seems so important that we do our very best to recognise what he has done. I hope we at least make it to the finals. Last year, our firm finished second so we have to at least equal that.
I haven't had the time to watch Batman yet!
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