It's been a controversial 3 days, agony derived from a bad decision resulting in a bad accident which would stir bad outcomes. Joy, well in that i got alot of self time. So what better way to name this post than with a name that makes no sense, but however belongs to a name of a song from a band that has been ranting tru my speakers these past 3 lisztomanic days, except:
Liszt |list|
Liszt, Franz (1811–86), Hungarian composer and pianist. He was a key figure in the romantic movement; many of his piano compositions combine lyricism with great technical complexity, while his 12 symphonic poems 1848–58 created a new musical form.
So as you take time to disect my introductory sentences and pull sense out of it, let me take the chance to fill you in on my finally chasing the football dream before we dive into the highlight of events...
You see, or as many of you cherished listeners may know, I have been fustrated in recent years that I never had the chance to take up professional football. Sure, I play every weekend or weekdays for the matter but hell, I barely get onto the pitch. I play street soccer, that's not real football man. And so.. well I always doubted my ability to perform or even cope on the field. And I was dying to prove otherwise. Plus being 20 years old now Im not exactly the perfect age to take up professional training, and there weren't any avenues for me anyway. Even if i had managed to string up a team its purpose would only be social, and that wasnt enough.
Well. That opportunity came. I was invited to strike for a FAS-registered team that was aiming for division 1 on NFL. And to my blessings, I pulled it off.
Here's what happened on the first day: I was early, and my friend was late. He was a malay, and so when i arrived, there was this bunch of malay guys and so i chatted up with them. Just then the other team came, and they werent small and non-angmoh like I'd expected. In fact, they were exactly otherwise. Which kinda startled me with they're huge sizes and white jerseys and tumbler full of drinks and all, they looked too strong a team. Not that i wasnt up for the challenge, i was just dying to impress on my first game, and pave a spot in the team. Well then my friend arrived and i realised that i was actually looking at my team. So he threw me a white jersey, and 20 mins into the game i was in. It turned out good. I made a couple good runs, nice passes and to my delight i volleyed in a goal. And that was it, trainer said I had speed and stamina and he wanted me back in the next game. And for the next game he played me lone striker for 90 mins! Sth i had a little difficulty coping with but nevertheless enjoyed it hugely.
Then came sunday. LISZTOMANIATION. I was tired frm a whole weekend of football and swimming and my uncle somehow persuaded me to play a final street soccer with my cousin two hrs before i planned to head back to camp. So i did, and i sprained my ankle. You gotta know that's the worse timing. My squad's having IPPT this week and I'm not there to conduct for them. Worse, my riding tp's this thursday, been waiting for TOO DAMN LONG but now it seems i wont even be able to take it. Which means ill have to wait another 2 mths before my next test date. And finally, i have no idea how many weeks i'll be out before i can join in the team again. Totally sucks huh.
Well, ive been home 2 days, wallowing in self-pity, spending time in my room watching shows, reading up on stuff. And now that its coming to an end, i wouldnt quite say I want it too. Self-time was actually kinda good, tho i would say i havent really been... mobile. Which would usually have killed me but this time around i was happy doing dumbbells. Jelly arms now, but killer arms tmr!
So, I do really hope my leg gets better enough for me to take the test. And that my football dream is really real. God bless me.
