All Hails CAGERS '07

I was on my way to the Roundhouse for the scrumptious pizza for lunch today when I received a short text message from Geto who was in the Kota Tinggi for PPM that reads:

‘Won 103-62’

Well done CAGERS ’07. We did it again, in sheer style. If anyone deems that last year’s record breaking 44-point margin final game win was too great to surpass, this year’s team has proven that there is always some other means to slot in their name in the record book. What better way to end a tournament and stamp in their mark as a true champion other than smashing the 100-point mark in the final game? Splendid.

One could probably argue that the Shohoku-like win in 2004 was plainly down to luck, and the subsequent year’s one which was my year was not that spectacular. But the two recent wins must have thrown all those doubters back to their seats of silence. Four PHTs on the trot, only one to go to bring an end to the target set at the commencement of the Quest4Glory Project on an impeccable note.

Saturday Night Rugby

What a night. I just came back from Telstra Stadium watching the Test Match between Australia and Wales, an outing arranged by the UMNO Club of NSW. Nothing political, merely a liberal student body meant to socialize. It was not my idea in the first place to go and join them to the match this time around, but I was puzzlingly defeated by lust when Keano, the president who happened to be my Prep School prefect back then in MCKK convinced me to come.

So there I was, taking the 15-20 minutes bus ride from my place to Central Station before meeting the rest and embarking on our journey to Telstra Stadium, Sydney Olympic Park via train. The train journey was basically filled with me updating myself with Apis, Bhozai and several other INTEC mates, but the highlight was of course, I bet everyone agreed, the irking but entertaining noises of local rugby fans who were on board as well. Anyway, I was impressed with the public transport system here. The match ticket that we bought already included public transport to the stadium, which means you might be living anywhere in Sydney and you are still able go to the stadium by only means of displaying your match ticket to the bus driver or ticket inspector at the train station. Interesting if you consider the mutual agreement and understanding that need to be reached between the ticket coordinators down to the bus drivers. Not only that, sufficient train coaches were also made ready to cater for the special night, making it very, very convenient for thousands of supporters tired from watching the match to get home in a timely manner.

A little bit about the game. The opening half was a nervous one for the home team; in fact the crowds were just about to settle down on their seats when Wales had their first try. Wales later on took a comfortable 17-0 lead including a second try out of a brilliant steal deep into the Wallabies’ half, which reminded me of the glorious try Mat Rock made against Raffles College of Singapore in 2004 during my MCKK days. The home team managed to find their pace and pick up from there then to close the first half trailing by 5 points behind. It may have been otherwise an opposite, dreadful end story for the massive 40000 spectators, most of which were Australian supporters in the stadium if not for the final-gasp try followed by an impeccable conversion that sealed a 29-23 win for the home team.

In the end, the Wallabies won, and I got to know some new friends. Awesome.

P/s: I noticed amongst the billboards of proud sponsors in the stadium this familiar ad, on the top left of the picture. Yes, Proton. What does it do up there I simply have no idea.

Not An Istanbul Deja Vu

There was not anymore any sort of miracle as displayed by Istanbul this time, other than a dream shattered, a Greek tragedy.

A cruel way I must say to end a match we easily dominated, nonetheless kudos to Milan for the sweet revenge. I know that I was no close to matching Rafa’s tactical intelligence, but I still think Kuyt should be paired up with Crouch if he were to throw Pennant down the right flank. And I cannot agree more with Am in questioning why Zenden should be given the starting role in the first place.

Still, what is done is done, there is always imminent future to look for.

I reckon the good thing about losing is we learn how to win.

Of Issues Pertaining Teenagers and Making A Difference

We are severely surrounded by worrying issues concerning teenagers these days. Mat Rempit here and there. 7-year-old boy sniffing glue, sleeping amongst the debris on the street. Partying around, sex everywhere; they call it liberal way of living. University dropouts on the rise, whilst the list of jobless graduates never ceases to increase. Lack of concern towards the community. Not respecting the elderly. Resulting in the former Yang Di-Pertuan Agong stood up and voiced out his concern to the public. Now, that is serious.

Then we see how people’s apprehension was aired, extensively publicized public forums were held, and countless organizations were organized, but the result?

What good is brought when a distinguished youth’s organization decided to call a troop of Mat Rempit for the North Pole’s free fall exploration? A good way to finish people’s money I guess, or perhaps to squeeze in some good names into the record book and open the apathetic public eyes, which in turn leads to more votes during the election. In the end, my predict says those Mat Rempit would go back to their racing lanes, bohsias in their cuddle, boasting about how they deceived those people to bring them thousands of miles away to do the silly, futile exploration, purportedly bringing the good name of the country. And the organization people, on the other side of the scope, would walk proudly in the middle of the city amongst throngs, claiming that in doing such so-called feat they had triumphantly helped the country. Well, probably not a reality, merely a wild guess which apparently might be wrong.

Being a teenager myself, my thinking is, everything starts from our own selves. Not denying laudable efforts from the others, but simply telling that we ourselves ought to change if good results are to be expected. How? Simple. Read daily newspapers. Help an old blind man crossing the road. Go to the nearby soccer field to support you local team, not jeering at them. Stop watching porn. Ask your father if his car needs to be washed. Get to know the name of your neighbour next door. Make a difference. In this sense, I truly agree with TheCicak for their article on ten things we can do to make a difference. Also, the government does not pay to send you overseas to see you partying with chicks, do they? Nor did your parents expect to accompany you at the hospital bedside following an injury from a series of night rempiting when they give you a Honda Cub on your 18th birthday.

This does not mean the other side of the community circle, non-teenagers alike can simply sit down and stop doing their parts though. There are still plenty, plenty of works that can be done. Members of the parliament, stop pointing fingers and rambles on trivial issues. Bocor sana, bocor sini, what the heck? There, your child is left at home contemplating on which road to rempit on tonight, or which pub to go, you never know. Believe me, their action is only inviting laughter from the global audience having watched them on the YouTube. Change, again that is the key.

From shoulder to shoulder, let us make a whole different world, starting from our own selves. Then only we can improve as a whole unit of community, and the jobless will finally get jobs, and so on and so forth.

The most difficult part, of course, is to change.

A reminder to self: Stop lazying around and resting on the laurel of past success, the final exam is will be up on the horizon soon.

If You Go Overseas, First Learn To Cook

Physics was over by noon today and after a quick thinking, I decided to head home and prepare a meal myself for lunch, slashing the idea of having the scrumptious but costly chicken kebab or pide or meat pizza or chicken schnitzel and chips at the café on campus.

I admit that I am a terrible cook, but up until today, I keep telling myself that I could one day improve.

I suppose the meal I prepared today did me a fine reality check; I realize that I should better give up that thought.

I did not finish the meal; half-way through I felt like vomiting and a moment later I decided to throw the entire plate’s contents off. Boy, how horrible. Anyone else out there dares claiming they vomit out the food they cook? Well do not ask me what meal I prepared anyway, I am simply too ashamed to reveal the answer.

From tomorrow onwards, my lunch will be the costly chicken kebab or pide or meat pizza or chicken schnitzel and chips. Nevermind my bank account is running dry. As long as I do not have to cook. And vomit.

Pak Lah on Soccernet?

OK, I know that Pak Lah and headlines are synonymous. But Soccernet? Amongst the likes of Manchester United, Real Madrid, Rafael Benitez and Arsene Wenger? This is completely a different story, in fact I have never even seen Mr. Blair there! Absolutely unusual!

A good friend of mine, Izham, did a good job in commenting on this matter here anyway.

Do You Remember The 20th Day Of September?

I do a lot of blog hopping these days, partly because I am just keen to know what other people are writing on channels [hopefully] free of bigotry and hypocrisy of the mainstream media, but chiefly for the reason that I am too lazy to put some effort to finish off my assignment. Anyway, it is interesting to see that we indeed have a very healthy online community, where people enthusiastically write and share their thoughts or simply what they saw.

I wish I could share every bit of thing that I witnessed here but then again it is again my policy; this is my blog so I do the talking, not simply pasting something that I found somewhere else or directing readers to go to this other particular site that I reckon is appealing and have a look themselves and then come back to my blog and leave a comment, what an intricacy! But at times I cannot hold back the urge to do so, so if I ever do, please forgive me for making your life difficult. As in this case.

So what is about 20th September essentially? Well, here is an excerpt from the blog I am about to introduce to all of you;

“Do You Remember The 20th Day Of September? is a movie about several things that happened in Kuala Lumpur in 1998.

Anwar Ibrahim, recently sacked as Deputy Prime Minister of Malaysia, headed a public rally of thousands of people that marched through the Malaysian capital while demanding the resignation of Prime Minister Dr Mahathir Mohamad. The crowd ranged from 30,000 to 100,000 depending on who was doing the counting. A few hours later Anwar would be arrested in his home.

Meanwhile, Queen Elizabeth was in town for the Commonwealth Games ...”

Yes, if you guys get the idea, it is in fact a movie. But it will not be released anytime soon, so that is not what I am interested in at the moment. What I am ardent to share with you guys about is the chronicle behind the movie; how every little bits and pieces are collected to make it a story.

Well, the creator of this whole thing is Amir Muhammad, whose previous films ‘Lelaki Komunis Terakhir’ and ‘Apa Khabar Orang Kampung?’ were fiercely debated in the parliament for alleged incongruity of the theme being brought, which as expected, resulted in a big NO for local screening. He apparently was not ravaged by the whole thing; this new 20th September effort is a verified proof.

Do You Remember The 20th Day Of September? will be a movie compiling 100 different stories from hundred individuals who survive with vivid account of memories on the chaotic affair that happened in that particular date in 1998. In order to pile up the whole stories, Amir Muhammad has set up a blog that chronicles every of those individual experiencea, randomly ordered. This blog. The stories are acquired from 100 ordinary people on voluntary basis- apparently no question about lopsided views- so basically if you think you have a good memory on that particular date, tell Amir and you will be one of the chosen hundred. Me, I am too embarrassed to admit that the only thing I remember as an immature 10-year-old back then was the picture of me inquiring my mom, ‘Umi, liwat tu ape?’ So there goes my chance to contribute to the story. Anyway, I believe the work has just been started, looking from the latest entry posted by Amir. I do not expect you guys to contribute and more importantly am not in any way promoting political tension here by the way, it is merely a recommendation of good stories for your free time.

Have fun reading stories!

Athens, Here We Come

I experienced a rare twist of feeling within the space of 36 hours as a sports fan today. First, my darling Liverpool is through to the final stage of the much-coveted European Champions League by courtesy of the nail-biting penalty shootouts win over the mourning Mourinho’s Chelsea. 36 hours later, it was heartbreak; the Los Angeles Lakers is dumped out of the NBA Playoffs after battling their heart out in five scorching showdowns with the Phoenix Suns. But I guess at the moment, I am ruling out any chance of mourning over the somber note like Jose Mourinho of Chelsea always did. Let’s talk about winning.

“Because even defeat wouldn't obscure the good things in place at Liverpool right now”

They say it is merely a matter of luck. Penalties? It’s everyone’s game my friend. But luck it was, Liverpool is now delightfully breathing in the lavish air of qualifying for the second European Cup final in a space of three years. Luck must love the Kop I guess. Now we are cruising for a repeat epic final against the side that trounced us apart in the first half of last two years’ final- albeit in the end that hapless side was the one to cry losing- and possibly yet another win to add to Anfield’s already-crowded trophy shelves. Athens, here the Scousers come.

The sheer brilliance of Rafa Benitez is so easily excluded to be disputed, mixing well with the passion of the players that never tired to demonstrate the kind of zealous play that they always believe would win the game, and the magic of the Kop is without doubt, the greatest gift of all. Their rendering of spirit, You’ll Never Walk Alone, filled the humid night air recurrently as if it were the only rhythmic noise known by the mankind on earth.

I believe I was not the only man wishing to be immediately transported to the magical world of Anfield last night to experience the beautiful spirit of the team.

Kudos to my darling Liverpool, but always keep yourself reminded that the job is not yet done. Athens reunion does not also mean a certain win; fight like you always did to get hold of it will you?

"Walk on through the wind

Walk on through the rain

Tho’ your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on, walk on

With hope in your heart

And you’ll never walk alone

You’ll never walk alone"