Sian ah...
I want to complain. The polyester wonder is bored. Ever since my brother gave up lugging me to school, I only ever get to go to the gym or to some basketball court somewhere. If my mama is in a good mood, I get to eat hotcakes. That's about all. Not good.
Sister Rabbit has pneumonia and is coughing madly. She's obviously in no shape to take care of me. I can't do anything to help, neither can my army of dust mites. Sian. There's really no English equivalent that conveys sianness adequately.
My brother told me my girlfriend can run. She ran so fast she won a medal at some cross country meet. I ought to be happy for her, but I'm not. Because I didn't get the medal. Why oh why did she not give the medal to me? Seriously, can you expect me to share her joy like this? No way man.
Last weekend actually wasn't so bad because my mama brought me to Khatib Camp. Not that the camp was a fun location per se, just that it was somewhere I hadn't been before. Home of the gunners. Whoa. My mama complained about paying tax money to fund the military organised ECAs. Guess who benefits from these events which serve to beef up the officers' portfolios? Enhance Career Action. Some sports carnival indeed. My brother observed there were only two sports. Basketball and football. How very observant. Ok, four sports, if you must. Basketball, adult football, children's football and swimming. The swimming pool was open to public that day, with a grand total of ten lifeguards stationed, more than enough to save all the people drowning at any one time. In fact, two lifeguards could go save onedrowner swimmer.
My mama's enthusiasm for the event stemmed from a deep desire to recoup her losses to IRAS, an organisation which has made her very unhappy the past few months, and is going to make her even unhappier come April. Incidentally, the same ultra efficient organisation can't cope with the heavy traffic from all the kids trying to get their Singpass to participate in the JAE. My poor brother was roped in to help in the event so that my mama could sit there and shake leg. Unfortunately, this did not happen. Those big bad bullies from the SAF (most of whom really can't play basketball) kept intimidating my brother, who I think was pretty freaked out but tried not to show it. Hey guys, if you can't take incidental contact under the basket, don't play 3-on-3. What wimps.
Auntie Dino and Uncle Dinoman didn't want to carry me so I had to sit alone at the scorer's table most of the time while my mama and brother worked 31 games in a row without a break. Not easy money at all. Naturally, my mama was super excited about the free Kelme bibs and Avia balls Uncle Dinoman said she could take home. Not 100% satisfying, because the items came from the event sponsors and not Mindef.
We all wanted to see a Commando-RSAF final but it wasn't to be. Together with Armour, these were the only three teams which really could play. The flashy armourers were knocked out in a penalty shootout, and the very disciplined commandoes, despite great help defence, just couldn't contain this Shaq-like (in terms of size, not skill) guy in the paint. Uncle Dinoman was a little sad that RSAF won in the end. 16 teams, 14 from the Army, and they all let the Airforce win?
RSAF won because they fielded the Siglap captain, a Chong Ghee starter and a shooting machine little guy who just coudn't miss. That same evening, I got to see both Siglap and Chong Ghee play in the Division I NBL. Uncle Yix plays for Siglap too. The last time I went with Auntie Hweech to support him and get some free dinner from the Siglap boss was when I was about 4 years old.
Uncle Yix in action
You know, I don't exactly enjoy watching ball games. What a dumb sport. Maybe I'll tell you about it some day.
Sister Rabbit has pneumonia and is coughing madly. She's obviously in no shape to take care of me. I can't do anything to help, neither can my army of dust mites. Sian. There's really no English equivalent that conveys sianness adequately.
My brother told me my girlfriend can run. She ran so fast she won a medal at some cross country meet. I ought to be happy for her, but I'm not. Because I didn't get the medal. Why oh why did she not give the medal to me? Seriously, can you expect me to share her joy like this? No way man.
Last weekend actually wasn't so bad because my mama brought me to Khatib Camp. Not that the camp was a fun location per se, just that it was somewhere I hadn't been before. Home of the gunners. Whoa. My mama complained about paying tax money to fund the military organised ECAs. Guess who benefits from these events which serve to beef up the officers' portfolios? Enhance Career Action. Some sports carnival indeed. My brother observed there were only two sports. Basketball and football. How very observant. Ok, four sports, if you must. Basketball, adult football, children's football and swimming. The swimming pool was open to public that day, with a grand total of ten lifeguards stationed, more than enough to save all the people drowning at any one time. In fact, two lifeguards could go save one
My mama's enthusiasm for the event stemmed from a deep desire to recoup her losses to IRAS, an organisation which has made her very unhappy the past few months, and is going to make her even unhappier come April. Incidentally, the same ultra efficient organisation can't cope with the heavy traffic from all the kids trying to get their Singpass to participate in the JAE. My poor brother was roped in to help in the event so that my mama could sit there and shake leg. Unfortunately, this did not happen. Those big bad bullies from the SAF (most of whom really can't play basketball) kept intimidating my brother, who I think was pretty freaked out but tried not to show it. Hey guys, if you can't take incidental contact under the basket, don't play 3-on-3. What wimps.
Auntie Dino and Uncle Dinoman didn't want to carry me so I had to sit alone at the scorer's table most of the time while my mama and brother worked 31 games in a row without a break. Not easy money at all. Naturally, my mama was super excited about the free Kelme bibs and Avia balls Uncle Dinoman said she could take home. Not 100% satisfying, because the items came from the event sponsors and not Mindef.
We all wanted to see a Commando-RSAF final but it wasn't to be. Together with Armour, these were the only three teams which really could play. The flashy armourers were knocked out in a penalty shootout, and the very disciplined commandoes, despite great help defence, just couldn't contain this Shaq-like (in terms of size, not skill) guy in the paint. Uncle Dinoman was a little sad that RSAF won in the end. 16 teams, 14 from the Army, and they all let the Airforce win?
RSAF won because they fielded the Siglap captain, a Chong Ghee starter and a shooting machine little guy who just coudn't miss. That same evening, I got to see both Siglap and Chong Ghee play in the Division I NBL. Uncle Yix plays for Siglap too. The last time I went with Auntie Hweech to support him and get some free dinner from the Siglap boss was when I was about 4 years old.
Uncle Yix in action
You know, I don't exactly enjoy watching ball games. What a dumb sport. Maybe I'll tell you about it some day.
posted by :O at 7:22 PM
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