all blacks lost to france (somehow). lewis hamilton crashed out (somehow once again). the day as the above examples illustrate, started ominously. and it soon turned out to be a self-fulfiling prophecy.

FOS inspired me to the extent of ignoring every single sms warning me against playing. call it stubborn. but when one really wants to do something, or enjoys doing it (i think we call it passion), we'd go to the extent of disregarding everything else. i took a kick and the excruciating pain in my knee came flooding throughout my body. what followed was five minutes of limping. i just wanted to give it a shot but it was in vain. and i will soon find out the extent of damage done to my knee by dingjie, the fucking piece of shit. it didnt help that the formation was centred around me. not able to run, distribute, or exert and ounce of pressure, it is only natural that i dragged the entire team down with me. and hence the first loss. well in addition of blatant biased refereeing by aloysius (whom i actually once had much respect for). but all's well, ends well. somehow team B ushered in a magnificient come back and won overall with a 4-0 romp in their last game. now that's what we call zi qiang bu xi.

and so i proceeded to my orthopaedic appointment at nuh. i was greeted by the sight of a man with a huge lump (somewhat decaying lump) protruding out from his calf. my it wasnt exactly a pleasing sight. nevertheless, i waited for my turn to see the doc. initially i was quite confident i was on the road to recovery ever since i had my mini swimming pool-physio session at cherrylene's place on sunday. swelling had greatly reduced then. but at the checkup itself, e doc did some twisting test on me and obviously i failed it badly. if you do know me, you'd know that i've a high threshold of pain (which was cultivated to my trips to chinese sinsehs), but the twisting test, was beyond pain. ah and the breaking news. "i think you have a suspected torn anterior cruciate ligament" my heart sank. just blank. i was like. fuck. mum being the housewife she is (not saying she is ignorant, but at least in the field of sports and jargons, she is), doesnt actually realise how serious the injury was or how upset i was. and within the next 2 weeks, i'd have my MRI. watching House actually got my quite excited knowing that i was going to go into this machine where the doctor can see every thing that's going on in my body from a tumour to, yes , a torn ACL. if indeed the prognosis is right, that spells 6 months on the sidelines if i do intend to undergo surgery. i wonder whether that fucking pussy who still denies injuring me will pay for it. i know my mum will just go confront that bastard on a heat of a moment. i never actually imagined ever hating anyone, and i'm glad to announce that dingjie is and will be the honoured member on this list. if and when i can, i swear to the sun that i'll make him pay for being such a wuss. i used to be angry about him injuring me, but it's more of how he reacts after it that pisses me off even more. not only did he not ask after my condition once but he even has the fucking guts to deny having anything to do with it. what a pussy. wish stanlay would look into his eyes and ask him to stop fucking kid himself. to err is human, to deny, is nothing short of a soon-to-be-dead man walking.

being optimistic, which has always been my guiding principle in life, can only bring me so far. i remember in sec 2, because of a freak accident, i broke my finger 2 weeks before national. that was the first time i cried like hell. even with a broken finger, i taped it up, and went back to training in an attempt to compete through the pain barrier which unfortunately, was too much to bear considering i had two stress fractures. second time i cried like shit was ling, which was in short quite stupid. third was, yea we all know. and the soon to be forth time i'll break out in tears is when i get diagnosed with a torn ACL. i honestly dont want to surgically suture my ligament together. but if i dont do so (at least according to my research online), i wont ever be able to play soccer. yet, i look at andrew, who underwent the same surgery (albeit alittle more serious), and still cant run or jog till this date. it just scares the shit out of me. and all i can think now is fuck you dingjie.

thanks for the get-well soon messages from all of ya. it means only so much to someone who just got the life sucked out of him. but thank you nevertheless. i dont really want pity, i just want to get back to doing what i enjoy the most. soccer.

now i've to seek solace in something else. i really dont know what. i just pray that it aint so serious an injury. i just pray that maybe perhaps i'd recover in time to train for nationals. i can only wonder what if i didnt have such an injury, everything would change. everything would change.