He blasted my body, I broke his pride.

This post shall be a sad one. My juniors became the first SJI C division rugby team not to make it to the semi-finals of the Cup stage in a decade, perhaps even two when they crashed out 8-12 to RI in the second group stage yesterday. They blame it on bad refereeing, claiming that they had actually put the ball behind the line. They even go so far as to quote the ref saying that "I know its a try, but I didn't see it".


Its sad news, especially since they have a decent group of players. We expected so much from them when they routed the opposition 56-0 in their first match. They lost narrowly to ACS Barker in their second, and from then on their campaign lost steam. They won the next two matches by small margins, often trailing on the scoreboard, scoring late winners in matches we should have dominated on paper. Unless they can pull off a miraculous win against Saint Andrews, their fate is sealed.

On a happier note, I finally got the cocky bastard at my taekwondo class. The ideology of this ancient martial arts is respect and restraint, but he was only here for fights. Though one belt lower, 5 centimeters shorter and 30 kilos lighter, his annoying agility allowed him to dodge my more awkward attacks in the after class sparring matches he challenged my brother and I to. My younger brother, being the clumsy meatsack he is, constantly got pwned, normally unable to land a hit while he got owned left, right and center. He would taunt us mercilessly, my brother for his general, how should I put this nicely, lack of streetsmarts, and my for my overly defensive style of sparring.

I refused to be put down by this smaller, loudmouthed, uncouth ruffian from Orchid Park. Of course, many times the impulse to break sparring rules and just rush at him head on with a spearhead tackle (Now made illegal by International Rugby Board for being too dangerous) tempted me, but I resisted demoting myself to his level. Finally today, he beat up my silly brother in a match that lasted 20 seconds. No one makes my brother look like an idiot except me and himself, so I accepted his usual challenge with relish instead of reluctance today. I tried a new tactic today, letting him attack while I waited and blocked, and wouldn't even have bothered with that if sparring wasn't based on a points system which requires you to block attacks with your hands to deny opponents points (Like DotA in a way), then hit him with a counter attack. 2 years of rugby and a much larger build allowed me to swallow block all the damage he threw my way, and once his barrage of kicks ended I would tap him on the leg with my foot, which would earn me a point for contact.

It seemed to work. Knowing his kind to be angered easily, I kept it up, taunting him by blocking or dodging his attacks and landing a small hit on him while making it obvious he was doing no damage. Finally, in a rage he released a maelstrom of kicks aimed at my sides. I hadn't bothered to block since it actually hurts more to do so, and all the fury he unleashed, it really didn't hurt at all!!! Yes, really I swear it didn't hurt! While he was hitting me for absolutely no damage, I landed 5, heavy kicks on his knee, intending to break the legs he was so damned proud of. Anyone who's seen me on the pitch will know I can let loose devastating destruction with my legs, Ryan Singh and John Tan have first hand experience. He seemed shaken after that , no longer able to evade my slow but powerful kicks, and we fought on for a minute or so.

We were both evidently badly battered by then, but neither one of us showed any weakness. We circled each other, but instead of rushing out to attack like he normally does, he chose to stay a safe distance away from me and my (up till now) under appreciated legs. Eventually we both tapped out. Our usual spectators, possibly frightened by the most violent sparring match against each other they had seen so far, proclaimed it a draw. He stormed off after that, as I willed my right leg to stop quivering from the abuse it had taken over the last 3 minutes. Normally flamboyant after such matches, he was furious as he snatched his bag up to leave. I relished the humiliation and anger I had caused him. He battered my body, but I broke his pride.


Take that you arrogant, uncouth and abysmally foolish shit eater. Call your gang if you want bitch, sparring rules don't apply on the streets. No one messes with Micro da Slummer!!

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Hours spent mugging : 5