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Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Joga Bonito

It doesn't take a football pundit to tell the difference. Just ask anyone who has been following the past few World Cups and he can tell the difference. With the exception of certain footballing greats still alive in the big scene, football stars now seemed more withdrawn, more detached, more fake. The last point is shown more evidently in this World Cup in Germany, with more cards than ever being brandished for diving. Yes, when the hell did players get booked for such an offence? And when is diving included in football anyway (it should be underwater duh)? But we have indeed seen players diving inside the penalty areas, heartless tackles being employed on the top legs, referees being conned and soccer politics right on the pitch itself this month in Germany. Football is evolving, just like the rest of the world, into something downright commercialised and fictitious.

It should be beautiful, a game focused not only on winning but also on the quality of play. No doubt winning is important as well but it is a bonus if you play well and win. The last of the eight finalists were decided just now and Mr. Black is not surprised to see the big names inside despite playing badly in the earlier rounds. The World Cup is not just a game; it is a stage on which players get developed and show their abilities. Seasoned actors on this stage naturally find it easier to face the spotlight, bear down on the opponent's goal and score, but credit must also be given to some of the newbies for putting up a good show.

I have to say the only blackhorses in the quarter finals are Portugal and Ukraine. But both of them have come a long way (esp. Portugal who ate up le Oranje) and so have, in a sense or another, deserved their slots. Ukraine? It's Shevchenko vs The Blue Azzuris. Go figure.

Mr. Black's bet for the blog: As much as I liked Argentina, Germany is going to go through to the semi-finals and face off with the handsome dudes from Italia. On the other side, I would pick the new boys from Portugal to dance to the beat of the samba-dancers from Brazil. The finale?

Germany vs Brazil.

And by then, I hope Joga Bonito gets through to them (means "Play Beautiful" in Portuguese).

N Black Sey @
12:51 PM
[c]d4rkang3l

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Inept Combat Training

Mr Black returned, in one piece, three days ago from In Camp Training (ICT) over at a "ulu" (slang for distant and isolated) camp. Or rather he returned from ICT: Inept Combat Training instead.

However, the reason shall not be disclosed over the confines of blogger or any other blog portal for fear of being persistently political. Consequences may be dire so bloggers beware of what you write.

What he can say is that he feels disappointed. The overall moral of the company was low all the way right from in-process and even hit rock bottom just after field exercise before being condemned to a level slightly better than significant till out-process.

Hence the term Inept Combat Training.

Yes, the training was tough and it made me feel all the way back like a NSF (not like a virgin sorry) years ago. But no, it wasn't that that made Mr Black black. It was a lack of camaraderie amongst the men, the officers and the specialists. Something along the way didn't click, and the equation turned out to be lopsided. However, names shall not be mentioned on this blog because that would make the whole thing even worse. Mr Black doesn't like finger-pointing one bit.

Ok thats all the random rave Mr Black has. He is sure better things are to come. Oh come Shakira, wash my dirty laundry (this is a joke, hint: her album name).

N Black Sey @
10:54 PM
[c]d4rkang3l

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Geek in Da Train

The subway train is an amazing place, if you know what I mean. Come to think of it, a good part of your life is spent on it (provided you are not burning petrol behind the wheel of a car) and Mr. Black thinks it is far too wasteful for the time spent in the cramped environment of the train to slip away. Open your eyes, stay awake and you will see a lot of stuff that can either make you laugh or cry (but you can't do either of that cause you are being scrutinised as well).

The thing you absolutely have to learn while taking a train is how to look from the corner of your eye. You can be reading, napping, pretending to nap, listening to your little white machine or doing whatever you like on the train but staring is a big no-no in the trains. You can't stare at a MILTF (if you don't know what this means, either google or watch American Pie) strolling in with her 2-year-old kid or a couple engaging in lengthy French conversation (Frenching in short) directly unless you want to be sued; you have to sly your eyes in a way that leaves people wondering if they are too insignificant to be even looked by you. Make use of science as well, and by that, I mean the power of reflection (thanks to the cleaners who keep all the windows sparkling in the train). In the dark surroundings of an underground tunnel, you could be spying on an unsuspecting person residing in the other corner of the carriage without even looking at him/her directly. But still, that doesn't beat the kick of looking at the person while he/she is not noticing, and then averting your eyes skillfully when he/she does.

Mr. Black is not trying to teach people how to peep or to spy. You guys already know that; I am just reiterating.

Now let's talk about the fun part: the types of people you will meet in the train if you are not napping or drooling on somebody's shoulder. The train has the power to put totally unknown strangers together within close proximity - sometimes so close you can smell them - yet provide a strangely natural and comforting environment. And best of all, the people you will meet are all random as well. Mr. Black, wallowing in his nothing-to-do-ness, has come up with a short list of the special characters you will meet or have already meet. Oh, how I like the idea of randomness.

1) MILTF: No comments. Go figure. Just don't grin to her kids.

2) Dream Girl/Boy version 1.1: It's hard to imagine but fate strikes you at the most unlikely of times. Just when you turn your head to swipe that unsightly strand of hair from your forehead, there he is. Shining, shimmering almost to a T, wearing a simple T-shirt and jeans. You gape, struggle for air and then miss your stop. Reality strikes you equally hard then: he left, you never leave him any number or name, and yes, the two of you are never going to meet again.

3) Mothers with demonic kids: Yes, you pity the mother. Her kids become the attention-grabbers in the whole carriage once they board. They slide, swing, climb, played hide-and-seek despite the mother's feeble attempt to stop them. Fellow commuters do the "I'm irritated" clicking sound with their tongue. Others shake their heads slightly. The boy yells and slides down the pole like a fireman (maybe that's his ambition). The girl follows suit like a pole-dancer. You feel like leaving the circus. Or maybe all you need to do is to stretch out a leg at the correct time.

4) Crazy dude/dudeness: I don't know about you, but I always see them. Half-mumbling to themselves, they would huddle in their seats amongst their red-plastic-bagged-belongings, chit-chatting to an invisible being, oblivious to the stares of the other commuters. (Yes, I mentioned that staring was not allowed, but this is an exception). Sometimes, they stared straight back at you, their gaze penetrating you as if something, or someone, was hovering behind you. You wonder if the dude has a knife in his pocket and secretly prayed that the train would express itself to your destination.

5) Hooker-wannabes: Yeah, I guess you know what I mean. Girls dressed in loud, overwhelmingly short skirts with gold rebonded hair (Mr Black is not stereotyping, please) battling their eyelids endorsed with fake eyelashes at you. That's when you sly your eyes, my friends, and hopefully you may chance upon something good enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

Of course, there are lots of special characters you will meet when taking public transport but I am not going to characterize all of them here. There are the Ipodders, the Nappers, the Pseudo-nappers, the "I-want-to-get-a-seat-even-if-the-train-is-bound-for-hell" Aunties, the Office-Ladies and more. Don't be surprised if you fall into one or more of the categories.

So before you board a subway train the next time, remember that exciting people await you. Just don't stare.

N Black Sey @
12:40 PM
[c]d4rkang3l

Sunday, June 04, 2006

A Run to Remember

No, its not a sequel to "A Walk to Remember" with prettyface Mandy Moore. It's Mr's Black's annual Individual Physical Proficiency Test (IPPT known to all guys) on Saturday and boy, was I nervous when I walked along the camp, looking with mixed feelings at the dreaded track encircling the field. So it had come, it had to come someday but yeah like last year, I was not well-prepared. I thought that I was the only crazy dude to book a test starting at 0730 hrs so I was pretty surprised when I see quite a lot of guys there already when I reached by 0745 hrs. (I will not book a test starting at 0730 hrs again unless the camp is situated right next to my camp. I am not the kind who would wake up at 6am to run and exercise, sadly.)

Anyway, I took the static stations first comprising of sit-ups, standing broad jump, chin-ups and shuttle run. All seems to be well (except for the chin-up station. I have to admit I am heavier, damn) until I proceeded to the track.

Running the 2.4 km.

(Flashback to the past when I was still lanky and lean. I didn't dread the run as I did now. Fast-forward to the present, I stared at the track, red and warm in the morning sun, inviting me to scratch its back. I looked around. It's funny when you can tell if a person is going to run well later by the look in his eyes. There were looks of hope, self-induced hope, despair and self-induced despair. I hope I was not looking too despondent that day.)

What happened then happened quickly. We lined up in 3 rows, answered a few questions on our health and readiness, and before I knew it, I was running. No, I was more like jogging. And as I jogged, I thought of a lot of things. (It's a waste to put your mind to rest when your legs are working so hard.) I thought of giving up, falling out of the test, when to fall out, should I fall out and a whole array of questions while my legs were pounding the track. I thought of the consequences and the rewards; the monetary incentive as carrot, the retest that I will have to take as stick. After the 3rd round (we have to run 6 rounds), I had decided that I had invested too much of my energy in this run that I could not fall out now. And so I ran.

As you can see, after all the aches and pain, I managed to pass the test. Not to say I achieved gold or silver awards which would have gotten me 400 or 200 bucks extra cash respectively. But Mr. Black is satisfied. I had managed to achieve what I set out to achieve, and so if you think that my result sucks, I would have said, "Yes, it does. But I am satisfied."

After all, its a run to remember.

N Black Sey @
5:00 PM
[c]d4rkang3l