Losing, Failing

"I will never forget thrashing." - Maria Sharapova, after being trashed by Serena Williams in the Australian Open Final 2007

"You've got to take it on the chin, move on and try to pick yourself up." - Steven Gerrard, after Liverpool's Champions League Final defeat

"We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single excuse." - Rudyard Kipling, British author (1865 - 1936)

"The quickest way of ending a war is to lose it." - George Orwell, Polemic, May 1946, "Second Thoughts on James Burnham"

"Show me a good and gracious loser and I'll show you a failure." - Knute Rockne, US football player & coach (1888 - 1931)

"No one knows what to say in the loser's locker room" - Muhammad Ali, three-time world heavyweight champion

"I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed. " - Michael Jordan, simply the greatest basketball player on planet Earth ever

"Fall seven times, stand up eight" - Japanese proverb

The Past Few Weeks

Sometimes we come to a point in life when we simply want to give a full stop at something, or a temporary break just so we could sit down and relax, breathe in deep and take a nap. We feel tensed with the situation we are in but there is apparently no way to escape. Well, I make reasons that I would not be writing for sometime because of commitment to university stuffs, but then again as I think, I guess I ought to rephrase the sentence and instead say that I simply need a quiet break. It is true that my schedule is rather demanding as of now- I am in the middle of three weeks of back-to-back-to-back test period, add that up to a geology excursion this weekend- but most of the time in the past I never looked at such things as a reason. Probably I am just tired, you know, the kind of tiredness you experience when things you learn and discover never fail to frustrate you.

I cannot really tell why, but I am in no mood to celebrate our 50th Independence Day. Perhaps a large part of me believes that our Independence Day actually falls on September 16th and not August 31st, or perhaps I do not think there are plenty of things we could be proud of after 50 years of nationhood, I do not know. Nonetheless I still made my way to the city yesterday, Darling Harbor to be precise to attend Malaysia Festival, or MFest as they put it which I believe was held in conjunction with our Independence Day. Well, I think the event was quite outstanding given the large turnouts that I observed and the fact that it was solely handled by students. Besides the food, I especially like the sketch which I think was quite brilliant in its own way given the time and space constraints that they had. But of course in such event the ugly side of Malaysian was there, but I guess I would rather not to touch on this matter in details simply for the reason that it irked me, and strengthened my original idea that we are just not yet prepared to be part of a nation of 50 years of age.

On another note, I realize that I have not been nice to people of late. More than once as I strolled past the University Walk at the university and came across a group of other Malaysians, I simply turned my head over, pretending that I did not belong to them. I rarely smile these days, and when I did, it felt awkward. Things do not go fairly well with old friends either, I just cannot explain why. Anyway I did give Nageb a call yesterday- only the second time since I came here- and we talked for more than half and hour or so, which was quite impressive if you know me well; I do not talk much to people especially those I have not been interacting with for long. Nageb and me, we were very close friends back then until past-MCKK days separated us into different paths, both chasing for different goals in life. I remember he was the only one I talked to on personal matters back then, and I believe so did he. It did not take long for both of us to grab back the close rapport we once had as I called him yesterday; minutes into the conversation we were again turning into good friends we both used to be, like nothing had actually happened in the last two years since we both made our own separate ways. I guess by giving him that call I did a right thing, and the last thing I have in mind to do now is letting the friendship to numb again. Anyway to the others, do not be surprised if I suddenly give you guys a call in a middle of night in the future, rest assured that I just want the friendship to go on.

I made new Malaysian basketball buddies these past few weeks, including a few Chinese guys last weekend. I used to play with one of those Chinese early this year but we never talked to each other; I guess that is how apparent the racial line separates us, two chaps coming from the same country and playing in the same court, same team and then full stop, nothing else. I always tell myself that I should start to befriend people from other races, - in fact I really want to- but until now I did little to turn it into something real. I guess being quiet never helps. Anyway those Chinese are indeed good fellows; apparently we just did not bump into each other's path before and once we did- in this instance playing together- it clicked so well that it seemed like we have known each other for so long. We even had good laughs in Malay in between plays that left this only non-Malaysian in the team puzzled on what actually was going on. I guess I really enjoyed such moments. But one thing, I could not stop but starting to miss my old CAGERS teammates, with whom I spent four, five years of playing career back then. I would ponder back at the moment when Bob and I had this nice little giggle at the scene of Pozer continuously missing his shots, or Didie making those weird sloppy plays that eventually went into the basket. I would reminisce the moment when I pushed so hard during roadwork just so I could be ahead of Nageb and Geto at the finishing line, or even when I failed, the three of us would regroup right after the stop to laugh at Mijie for finishing last. Memories, how sweet are they. I guess I am not the only one missing them; Nageb related to me the same feeling he had in our phone conversation last night.

I guess that is all for now, I am signing off.

Notice and Appreciation

The writer will exempt himself from writing probably for this couple of weeks; he truly needs to commit himself to the demanding university schedule and stuffs.

In the meantime, the author wishes to express his heart-felt appreciation to those who have been so kind to drop in their personal comments and views, particularly on the author's last few postings. Believe me that he is so tempted to further give elaborate opinions on those issues; it is just that he could not find ample time to do so.

Thanks again and may God bless all of you. And yeah, do stay tuned.

Of Getting Fit and Bouncing Back

My stamina sucks. I mean it. I just had a morning jog and I was like, exasperating even before I completed the first round of the field. Heck, there was in fact this one Mat Salleh lass running faster than me. Well, probably the IPod she was listening to was the reason, that with music, she somehow forgot that she was running. Oh look, I cannot stop from giving reasons here.

In another case, I also had a 20-minute basketball game last Thursday, which was like my first competitive game in one year. Enough said, I ran out of gas and could not run entering the second half of the game. How bad is that?

I remember that the last proper workout I had was way back to more than two years back when I was still a basketball player at MCKK. Back then, it was not really hard to be a bit pushy to myself when it came to stamina building. After all, I was the captain of the team- if I was not the one to be pushy who else would, as simple as that- while another reason is Mr. Liew was always there keeping an eye on us. These days, I always find hopping back to bed after Subuh as more tempting than anything else, particularly going for a couple of rounds of the field jogging. Meanwhile on the basketball court, my priority has always been playing; stamina building has never been on the list. Of course most of the time I only played half-court which is relatively easy and does not really demand superb fitness level from anyone who is playing.

I have been thinking hard on enrolling myself for gym, but could not find the way to do so at the moment. My financial status is obviously one of the major reasons, where a single month of gym membership would cost me like a huge proportion of my monthly allowance. I made a promise to myself after the winter break that I would enroll if I could find a casual job thus pocketing some extra money, but then again the sight of job was nowhere to be seen after dozens of work applications and three weeks of job hunting.

Another alternative is working out on my own sans gym equipment, which I believe everyone can do. I have been searching on Google on stuffs related to this matter particularly from Men’s Health Magazine website, and apparently there is a bundle of information on this sort of fitness training available on the net and it is just left to me whether to follow them or not. I know I am being so frantic by doing all these, but the thing is I so want to rebuild my weary muscle and reclaim the stamina which I once had during my prime time more than two years back. Speaking of prime time, I used to be a believer of the idea that my time has already passed, that there is no way to come back and be in excellent physical shape I once had. But then again, I am only 19, and there are plenty of athletes in the entire world whose sporting careers are just about to start at such age. Of course I do not put my sight on being on par with those people; the thing is I have every reason to believe that I can always get my old self back provided that I work hard.

Adieu Comrades

Here comes another month in the yearly calendar when people fly off to pursue their studies. Friends go, but sweet memories are forever tucked in mind. I did not manage to get any further details, but here is pretty much what I have to offer:

• Ikrom- Accounting, Bank Negara
  Indiana, USA

  Sheikh- Actuarial Science, MARA
  Pennsylvania, USA

  Kandaq- Actuarial Science, MARA
  Illinois, USA

I believe Hamid and Athong are likely to follow suit shortly, but for the time being these are the only three musketeers to get off.

Anyway to the three of you, assuming that we are not going to cross each other’s path in the next three, four years because of our location in two opposite ends of the hemisphere, here is my best wish of luck to all of you guys in your future endeavors. Fly as high as you can my fellow comrades, but at the same time do not forget to look back to the ground where our root germinated. The country needs bright people like you guys.

"We will fly and touch the sky.."

I guess this is your real chance to touch the sky!

Get A Life NameWee!

This chap has certainly gone too far!

Freedom of speech never means you can simply insult other people’s race and religion. Surely there is a much better way to air out dissatisfaction. The fact that he posted this video while we are on the verge of celebrating our 50th year of nationhood really boils me.

Please, leave your comment on the video people if you really love our country, our religion. The bitter history of May 13 will definitely be repeated if we let things like this to go on.

To NameWee: Go get a life!

Help Us Find Salhi (updated)

Alhamdulilah, the good news is fnally here; this guy has been found in Kuantan!


Please click on the above picture for details.

Thank you.

Politics and Sports Do Not Mix

It seems that after every round of flop in our sporting field, an immediate wave of change is sent in the hope of rectifying the root of the problem. Foreign coaches brought in, foreign coaches kicked out. We need you back, local experts. What happened to your team idiot? You, pack your stuff, out. Back off senior players, let us give this bunch of youths a chance to shine. And so on and so forth. The latest, which perhaps is the biggest, most shocking decision ever made in a decade, is shoving off political leaders from playing their hands in the managerial matters of sporting bodies. Quite obviously the idea was formulated in the wake of yet another disappointing slump of our national football in the recently concluded Asian Cup, with such a poor display that qualified us to be labeled as the only non-competitive team in the tournament by a prominent daily newspaper in Australia. The question being, why didn’t we show those sporting team managers cum political figures the exit door long, long before, before the little bruise that we had could turn into an incurable illness?

Malaysians from every part of generation have long questioned the credibility of these parliament dwellers in getting involved in our professional sporting bodies, let alone being the most influential figure in them. Apart from the suspicious lots who argue that these leaders are merely carrying political agendas in stepping up the managerial ladder of those bodies, the others who politely accept their integrity remain doubtful over their ability to bear the huge responsibility of leading a globally-acknowledged sporting body. Blame not the doubters, as we recognize the hard work needed in running such bodies which strive to continually produce top-notch athletes.

Recent headlines on this issue came as a laughing cause for me especially when you think about how easy those figures decided to pen down letters of resign upon listening to nationwide call for them to do so. From a logical point of view, I see that no one should be you willing to give off their top-notch position in those bodies if they love them so much, or if they are indeed committed in working with the sporting bodies. Because what happened is the opposite, my conclusion is pretty simple; they indeed did not enjoy being a member of such bodies let alone committing themselves in full swing, and perhaps it is not too much if I choose to concur with public view that says they indeed have unique agenda being in such position. Of course I am not aiming the whole bunch of those leaders by saying this. In every situation, I believe that there must be a good apple amongst the rotten ones. Unluckily the latter had gone overboard thus posing serious threat to the good few.

We cringed, cried in agony upon watching Hafiz Hashim fell shamefully in the hand of Lin Dan on the badminton arena. But little did we know that the Chinese fellow is a successful product of the system in China, where promising youths at the early age of eight, nine-year-old are brought into the sports school that exist in every province. I mean every province. Now, how big is China? We, on the other hand have only two nationwide. The similar case happened to Yao Ming, the first Chinese basketball player to shine in the NBA whose unusual height was traced two generations back, before he was even born. And we continue to wince when it was the football team’s turn to lose 1-5 to the mighty country. Of course the comparison I have made is unfair, but what I have in mind is that we need great people to come with this kind of idea in order to improve the quality of our sports. Like most of you, I believe that these people are definitely not politicians. Not intending to belittle them, but after all, what can you expect from a man who runs the floor of the parliament in the morning when what we are talking about is finding quality athletes? Quite simply the two cases do not run on a parallel ground.

Of course things are far from resolved even after those leaders give up their seats. The quest for success is not a short-term one; one cannot expect to shoot a bow and get immediate result. Act early, and make amend on things along the way. What we need right now is past athletes to come back and lead. In this matter, an article in The Star last week provided ample reasons and justifications why such step is deemed instrumental if we are to look forward for a brighter future of our sports scene, one of which includes a look at the international football governing body in FIFA which is piloted by none other than the game’s legends. On the local scene, the appointment of Marina Chin as the new head of Bukit Jalil Sports School is seen as an excellent early move to realize our dream, at least for me.

Bad Day

Have you ever had a day when suddenly everything goes wrong, when you were hoping that things could not get any worse and right at the spur of that moment it did. I have, last Saturday.
I woke up quite late that morning, which was bad enough because I was planning to get some tasks done that very particular morning. Never mind, I thought. I could always do it later, probably tomorrow. Early on I planned with a friend to go to Punchbowl, a small suburb in the Northern part of Sydney because both of us were craving for KFC, and that suburb is the only place known by us to be offering halal KFC. Another friend earlier told us that the one in the city is also halal, but both of us really wanted to jalan-jalan that particular day, we decided to opt for the one in Punchbowl, which by distance is considerably farther. So when it was already time, I walked to the bus station and thought to give that friend a call while on the way. As if it was an early sign of a bad day ahead, it happened that I called to listen to the sound of him waking up. Not a big problem I thought, because somehow I had this intuition that said this thing would happen. Because going back home to wait seemed to be futile, I chose to wait for him there, hopping from one shop to another while hoping that the time would run fast. Luckily that friend was quick; he made it to the bus stop in less than half an hour. The bus, also, arrived not long after we were there.

To cut the story short, we later took the train and arrived in Punchbowl about an hour later. The plan was either to have our lunch or to pray first; depend on which one we could locate before the other, KFC or mosque. After about 20 minutes or so of roaming around, unfortunately both were not found. So I asked a purdah-clad lady where the mosque is, and was advised that a good idea was to travel on wheels, otherwise the mosque would be somewhat far from where we were. The good news was that just a couple of hundred meters away was a musolla, according to that lady. So the idea of praying in the mosque was slashed. Anyway just after we arrived at Punchbowl, I received a phone call from Bukh asking me to play basketball that afternoon. Quite easily that excited me, and instantly I planned to go back early so that I can play. Jumping back to the current circumstance, the search for KFC continued after we finished praying. Nonetheless just like in the previous case, we discovered that KFC is also located far from where we were. In that moment of despair, we both decided to go back to the city and have our KFC there.

It was already inches away from 3pm anyway; I promised with Bukh to make it to the basketball court by 3.30pm. Since I really did not want to be late for basketball- albeit by then I knew exactly that I would definitely be- my appetite for KFC was all but disappeared. Nonetheless that friend of mine really wanted to go, so after a little negotiation we both agreed to tapau.

I already had a clear picture of what I was going to do next, timeframe included, once we boarded the bus back to Kingsford at about 3.05pm; the usual bus ride would take roughly 15 minutes at maximum, and once home I would pray, change my clothes into basketball gear and hop on the bus again to go to the court, KFC can wait. If I was not under time pressure cycling would be an option anyway, because you know traveling by bus here is mind-bogglingly costly. Also, I would expect that none of my housemates would be home because from what I heard they were going somewhere that night. No one’s home equals to easier rush afterward, I thought. I reckoned by 3.30pm I would get out of home again.

However, the usual 15-minute bus ride from the city suddenly turned out to be a 45-minute one. The traffic was bizarrely heavy, apparently that was the reason, so basically I had no one to blame. But indeed, I was so pissed off. Plans ruined. I would be late- in fact too late- for basketball. Did I tell you that I was hungry as well? I remained positive that I would make it into the court when I arrived home 45 minutes later, before another bad thing happened. Even before I entered home, I could listen to what was happening in. apparently my housemates are still there, along with a number of his friends. Songs were played out loud, guys at every inch of the corner. I feared that my temper would go off at any time therefore I did exactly what I was supposed to swiftly, and left without even speaking to one of them. Anyway I was also thinking to have a quick taste of that KFC since I was really craving for one, but the thought, because of what had happened, had to be cancelled.

I quickly made it at the bus stop again, and jumped straight into the first bus that came. I never took that bus before, but it read ‘Circular Quay’ which I knew by conscience; the bus would go straight along the Anzac Parade, and would only make its first turn once in the city. The basketball court I was going to, by the way, is just next to the city, apparently before the bus made any turn. A couple of hundred meters away however, that bus made a left turn. Damn. Definitely a wrong bus. I rang the bell, hopped off and had to walk back to Anzac Parade to catch another bus. Some more time wasted. Bus fare wasted. The next bus came shortly, and I knew by then that things would be all over. I would forget all the bad happenings today once I stepped into the basketball court. It was not yet over, though.

That second bus went straight, as expected. I immediately rang the bell when the basketball court already came into sight, but it happened that the bell did not work. I tried with the second onel, same result. Probably there’s a slight problem with every bell in this bus, I made a guess. So I decided to stand up close to the driver, hoping to give him the impression that I wanted to get out. The bus anyhow went straight, past the basketball court straight, straight, and stopped. At the traffic light. I knew it was illegal to get out of the bus at any place except for its stop but still I made it a point to ask the driver. As expected, he refused to let me go. Not a problem, the stop is not that far in front. I could always walk back to the court I guess. But things went from bad to worse; the driver did not stop. On and on and on he drove, until we arrived at the city. Of course I got out at the first stop, not wanting the stupid driver to bring me farther. By then, as many of you might have expected, I already gave up the hope of making it to the court. It is winter here in Sydney anyway, and there I was in the middle of the city wearing mere T-shirt and holding a basketball, while people surrounding me were all covered by jumpers, thick clothes. Now you imagine.

Well as going back home was the last thing I wanted to do at that moment, I decided to saunter around town at least for a while. One thing, I remembered that I had not eaten for quite long, so going for a quick, cheap meal was on mind. After all I could think of any other way to get rid of tension caused by that entire day; I do not smoke, so probably eating is the best idea. Cut it short; I bought some chips and finished it in a split of a second before making my way back home.

Things started to subside from then on; it was so fortunate that nothing else happened when I returned home, until it was time to sleep. In total, I spent a handsome albeit futile cash of almost AU$15 for transport, and wasted a whole day planning and doing things, but eventually brought me nowhere. In reply, I received mere anger, frustration, fatigue, and the list goes on.

As I ponder back, I believe that a bad day is always there written on our fate; probably acting as a reminder from God for the wrongdoings we had done in the past. When we start to think that things happening to us are damn bad, think again, and we will soon realize that it could have easily gone worse than that. Only by doing that we can learn no to grumble, and instead be grateful for the lives we are living today.