We are the Champions... or not.
So we're not the champions. We didn't even make it past the semi-finals.
I don't know why I'm writing this entry only now. In fact, I don't know why I'm even writing at all. The miserable aftermath of defeat, the raw emotion in the face of disappointment has all but faded, making writing about the VJC Invitationals a pointless typing exercise. Not to mention, I have better things to do, like get a start on my holiday homework.
Perhaps the reason why I'm persisting in typing out this entry is because I need to get some unspoken, psychological burden off my chest. After all, for someone to get beaten at the hands of a particularly incompetent opponent certainly generates a degree of mental duress.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. To be honest, I really don't feel particularly affected by losing. Maybe it's because I've grown used to playing an unimportant, peripheral role in most of my endeavors, performing the duties of the perennial loser, that losing isn't really painful any longer. There isn't very much emotion compelling me to waste a good part of my holiday writing this blog entry.
It could, of course, be a subconscious desire to flex some of my considerable literary muscle that drives me to write. There is very little point in keeping a blog at all if you don't show off a bit. After all, a blog is a fashion statement, and my writing's the digital equivalent of the Gucci emblem.
But nobody really reads my blog anyway. Save for a few precious souls, nobody actually finds this URL worth the extra line of HTML on their blog. And if all I wanted to do was drool over my own work, there are better ways through which I can admire myself. My (as yet undone) Commonwealth Essay, for instance, beckons. There really isn't any point writing a whole entry just for this purpose.
Quite possibly, though, all I really want to do is thank a couple of people. I'm very bad at expressing gratitude by word of mouth -- maybe it's to do with my ego. Or conservatism. Whatever the reason, there is little embarrassment involved in thanking others online.
So to all my teammates -- thank you for being there. To Anish, Marvin, Samuel and Benjamin, thank you for supporting me and bearing with my incompetence. I'm glad to be part of this team. Special thanks goes to Jing Song, and especially Chere, coaches who aren't really getting paid very much to watch us screw up on the floor, but go ahead with it anyway.
It's quite possible that the people I'm thanking will not read what I've just written. At any rate this is a particularly dry entry, with a particularly uninteresting motives.
But whatever the case, these people are people who have plied their faith in me whatever the odds. These are people who automatically earn my respect, and no matter what, they are the champions...
... or not.
I don't know why I'm writing this entry only now. In fact, I don't know why I'm even writing at all. The miserable aftermath of defeat, the raw emotion in the face of disappointment has all but faded, making writing about the VJC Invitationals a pointless typing exercise. Not to mention, I have better things to do, like get a start on my holiday homework.
Perhaps the reason why I'm persisting in typing out this entry is because I need to get some unspoken, psychological burden off my chest. After all, for someone to get beaten at the hands of a particularly incompetent opponent certainly generates a degree of mental duress.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. To be honest, I really don't feel particularly affected by losing. Maybe it's because I've grown used to playing an unimportant, peripheral role in most of my endeavors, performing the duties of the perennial loser, that losing isn't really painful any longer. There isn't very much emotion compelling me to waste a good part of my holiday writing this blog entry.
It could, of course, be a subconscious desire to flex some of my considerable literary muscle that drives me to write. There is very little point in keeping a blog at all if you don't show off a bit. After all, a blog is a fashion statement, and my writing's the digital equivalent of the Gucci emblem.
But nobody really reads my blog anyway. Save for a few precious souls, nobody actually finds this URL worth the extra line of HTML on their blog. And if all I wanted to do was drool over my own work, there are better ways through which I can admire myself. My (as yet undone) Commonwealth Essay, for instance, beckons. There really isn't any point writing a whole entry just for this purpose.
Quite possibly, though, all I really want to do is thank a couple of people. I'm very bad at expressing gratitude by word of mouth -- maybe it's to do with my ego. Or conservatism. Whatever the reason, there is little embarrassment involved in thanking others online.
So to all my teammates -- thank you for being there. To Anish, Marvin, Samuel and Benjamin, thank you for supporting me and bearing with my incompetence. I'm glad to be part of this team. Special thanks goes to Jing Song, and especially Chere, coaches who aren't really getting paid very much to watch us screw up on the floor, but go ahead with it anyway.
It's quite possible that the people I'm thanking will not read what I've just written. At any rate this is a particularly dry entry, with a particularly uninteresting motives.
But whatever the case, these people are people who have plied their faith in me whatever the odds. These are people who automatically earn my respect, and no matter what, they are the champions...
... or not.
posted by Jumbiez at
4:19 AM
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Opalsr, at 1:30 AM
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