Dalam Kepalaku Ada Ini

Houdini

2009-12-28T09:13:00.003+08:00

Someone said I am a good writer and bla bla bla. First of all, I am not a writer. Let me tell you why.

Izham Ismail a writer is a big misnomer. Because I am a blogger - something that I am not really proud of.

Blogger is not a writer. Blogger is an escapist, a mediocre writer. Bearing the pain of being rejected and unpublished, blog is an easy compromise.

But until he had his work published, he should stay quiet and remain a blogger.

Television makes watching theatre pointless. Photography is eating painting little by little, inch by inch, day by day. E-books is taking away the pleasure of reading hardcovers, and online news' plot to murder broadsheet newspaper is in its final phase.

Blogging kills writing.

But someone has to start somewhere, and blog is the most convenient breathing space. But one has to realize where the other hand would take. Blog might take you somewhere now, but one day it will turn its back.

The life cycle is just too comforting that you would not know when will it smite.

Have you heard of Twitter? It is a micro-blogging scheme.

It kills blogging and it goes without saying.

So where am I going from here?

I don't know, for I am just another mediocre blogger.

Art is never about the turnout, the crowd. No matter how celebrated an artist is, no one can guarantee he could belch another masterpiece the next time.

That is why looking at how well the blog is received is never a celebration for me. I have miles ahead of me before anyone can call me a writer.

But thanks anyway, I am sure flattered.

I think too much (or too little). Okay I'll go masturbate now to balance it out.

So much for the thought of quitting blogging and write seriously.

Night Train

2010-01-03T20:31:00.004+08:00

Some people I know are a funny lot. They make me laugh easily without having to try much.

Like some of them who think they have succeeded to lie to me, and another who makes up my life story without having to spend their time with me.

Knowing people is a privilege, but some of them just take relationship for granted.

Relationship is not a game you can afford to lose today and work harder to win tomorrow. My mum didn't let me go when I was a little boy and pick me up when I am no longer a worry to shoulder. She works to grow me up everyday because everyday is a battle she needs to win.

I am not perfect, so saying bad things about me doesn't give much space for anyone to give it a doubt. I know myself very well to say that negativity is an easy association with me, so I don't really mind when people starts to rough a hideous picture out of my life.

But some other people just let me go because of the weight I carry, and they leave marks on my face for other people to see, and yet still expecting the privilege from me.

It can tick some people off, including myself. And I could brush off the stain, hold the knuckle and stand up to fight.

But It is good news for them because I don't fight pointless battles. So I would laugh at myself, and move on, because if it is that easy to draw a bad picture of myself, then I have only myself to blame for not looking good.

Bola Akhir Tahun

2009-12-31T15:10:00.008+08:00

Bukit Jalil National Stadium hasn't changed much since I left, and now that I am back, it is nice to know that I haven't miss anything major at Bukit Jalil other than the game between my dad's Negri Sembilan and Kelantan, the very much talked about and controversial Malaysia Cup final match.

I was 10 years old when I went to Bukit Jalil for the first time and it was not for any football match, but for the Commonwealth Games opening ceremony. The only way for me to get there that time was by train. Everything was new back then, so the comfort of a new train journey to a new stadium was something really big for a small boy like me.

So 10 years passed, and I have lost count the number of times I went to Bukit Jalil to watch football matches. I had the privilege to travel across the globe to witness and experience the atmosphere of world-class and famous football stadiums like Old Trafford and Anfield, and while they boast to be the home of many football historic moments and greats, my favourite is still the ones at home; the one in Shah Alam and the other in Bukit Jalil.

So I paid the latter a visit yesterday, as Malaysia hosted Syria in a friendly match. The number of fans were no match to the number of support and love the national team got when they bagged the SEA Games gold medal last month. In a way, it was good to have so much space for yourself in the absence of so many on-and-off football fans.

I arrived an hour early, like I always do in any football match I go to, usually to avoid traffic and to have enough time to settle down (strolling around the stadium for food and souvenirs and snap few pictures before going to the loo for final clearance). Usually the ritual was very quick and brief, and the leisure of having the breathing space was non-existence. I could not even talk in my normal voice because I would have to shout every time I was talking to a friend.

But last night was a bit different. I parked my car 100 feet from the field, and I could see the sight of my car from the place I sat when I was eating at the food court. And the fact that I ate at the food court was something new as usually I would have a small bite of crisp or burger before the game. But last night, I had nasi goreng cili api with telur mata kerbau (fried rice with Bird's eye chili and eggs, sunny side up) with teh o ais (iced tea).

I finished and started to walk to get my seat 5 minutes before the game started and I didn't have to run and rush as I would normally have to. When I secured a nice seat, the game was just kicked off.

For my standard, last night was a VIP experience. Thanks to Alep, Sam, Faiz and Nazha for the company.

Malaysia was not the better team in term of ball possession as Syria was more superior in controlling the ball. It was their infamous vocation in playing long ball that brought the ball forward most of the time. It proved a lucrative gamble, especially with Zaquan Adha's decent ability to win the ball and taking shots.

While the strongest point for Malaysia was in its defense, they lacked the edge in the attack. Midfielders, especially Safiq Rahim was not playing his best match, albeit scoring two goals both from penalties. His lack of creativity and the eye for killer passes were the points for Zaquan Adha's wasted runs. He also wasted so much the opportunity to benefit from dead ball situation and Rajagopal should have brought in Amirul Hadi Zainal earlier in the game to turn things around.

I am personally worried with Safiq Rahim's form, who now plays for Selangor, but Amirul Hadi, who also wears Merah Kuning came to the rescue.

Amirul Hadi wasted no time to provide the assist for Malaysia's fourth goal, my pick for the best goal of the night, as he calmly fed Gurusamy before the midfielder chipped the ball nicely to the back of the net to round a satisfactory 4-1 win.

While the game was marred by disputable decisions by the referee, it was surely a nice moral booster for the boys ahead of Asian Cup qualifier against UAE, 6 days from today. I wish the boys the best of luck and continue the winning streak, play nicely, score goals, and score the hearts of Malaysians.

Do you know Ayu Raudhah? She played Aliya in the hit series Nur Kasih which I didn't watch but most of my friends did. She was there at Bukit Jalil, most probably because his boyfriend, the national striker Zaquan Adha was there to play. Zaquan Adha scored the third goal and was sent off under the suspicion of time-wasting. My friends were looking for Ayu Raudhah after the game, and instead we found her 'striker'.

Alep suggested a place for after-game drink, and we headed to a stall at Dato' Keramat, located in front of Masjid Dato' Keramat. It opens until late and you can easily park the car at the side of the road, or inside the mosque if you are not wearing shorts he he. Watching a football match needs as much stamina as playing a football match so I had a giant glass watermelon juice and iced tea to rehydrate. I ordered tauhu bakar (grilled tofu with vegetable filling, prawn paste sauce and crushed peanuts), and was surprised to just have to pay RM5 for all that.

Now that I am broke and have no one to pay me every month, I can imagine coming back to the stall. To eat lah, not to work. Bodoh lah you.

Earlier that day, I had lunch and catching up with Cepe at Avenue K before walking to Ampang Park. Yes, walking to Ampang Park to-and-fro KLCC like I used to 10 years ago. But I am 10 years older now, so I took a return train and joined cute fashionable school girls on my way back.

Cepe told me they are building a third tower for KLCC, means more weapons for Ultraman to fight with invading monsters.

The old camera shop where my dad used to take me when he still had his craze in photography is still there at Ampang Park. Off The Edge is now priced at RM12. It doubles its editorial size too, so okay lah kot.

It is good to know I didn't miss anything much.

It's the last post for the eventful year. I would like to personally wish you a very happy new year. Take care and see you next year!

Futsal 101

2008-08-03T05:47:00.006+08:00

Some parents might not agree of having their kids to play futsal late at night. A basic rule of thumb, if you ask any football enthusiast is that futsal is contagious. The nature of futsal which is very simple to play – and the fact nowadays there are futsal centers built at about every corner of the city, makes us hard to resist the temptation of saying “yes, I’ll be there” upon answering a call from the night’s tokan (an organizer, the person in charge to call and gather players and the person who collects money at the end of the futsal session).

Being a tokan sounds like a very stringent and strenuous job to do – provided that you have to forgo your worthy mobile phone credit to make at least 9 calls or messages to get the ball rolling. But, it will be all worthwhile, because when there are surplus of money collected, in result of each of players have to pay equal amount of money – and the tokan will enjoy the extra money ‘incentive’. But being a considerable team player, we would not make a big fuss about it – for he had earned it. Now you can have a lesson on transparency and accountability by just playing futsal.

It would be a case of a competition, when there are more players than needed in the team. There would be a person or two, whom voluntarily or reluctantly have to make way for 5 players to play first. Every second on the bench is a misery, a torture, and silent agony, and an utmost woe to your dignity, when you are all set in your outfit; with a pair of shoe (we called it futsalor) made up chiefly of rubber resin with reinforced well-designed couture (if its an expensive newly-advertised Nike one, of course), but found sitting on the bench.

Don’t worry, there’s a way not to lose any of your well-groomed self-esteem.

I would pretend to check for my phone if it is ringing or walking back and forth to the counter as if I’m buying a Gatorade but forgot to bring my wallet. You have to look like you are not waiting to be in the court. That’s the trick.

It is all worth it when you step into the court and the ball is coming to you, allowing you to have short but enough time to show what you have, not just a cute little Nike shoe.

With smaller ball (but of the same size) than the traditional soccer ball, futsal lay down a clear emphasis on improvisation, creativity, technique and yes, like any sport, teamwork. I think it works well to make you more composed – hence you will be all fired up to want the ball more, so you can do something with it.

Dignity is very much an important deal to wage. Nutmeg, quick decision making, tricks and composure are all weapons of pride exploitation. Being able to do it is like winning a battle, and to be at the receiving end of it is devastating. I myself can get my whole day ruined just by having someone to do a nutmeg through my legs. But a signature rabona always thrive as a sweet payback for me. Ha ha, masuk bakul angkat sendiri. Shh.

Ah yes, tripping, jumping at, charging in dangerous manner, holding or pushing an opponent are not some of the way to show how muscular and manly you are, but a woe to you dignity as they reflect your short temper and lack of composure. We don’t need any shirt-pullers or any wrestlers around. Go home and watch WWE or any sick videos if you need your doze of brutality. Please, this is a game for gentlemen.

At the end of the day, friendship is strengthened, Malaysian football will benefit, and the love of football will be blossomed.

Although Cristiano Ronaldo and Ronaldinho are not my favorite players, they both credit the skills-based game with making them the players they are now. It is no coincidence that the countries who do extremely well in futsal like Brazil, Argentina, Italy, Spain and Portugal – also do well in full-size pitch football and feature as prominent figures in the FIFA world rankings. Chances are - with widespread futsal centers and highly sensitive passion among Malaysian youth on the game – we could be somewhere in between the top-list.

Futsal is definitely here to stay in Malaysian culture. It is better to have our kids indulging themselves in inflicting chaos on the road, faking their ID to get into nightclubs, getting drunk when you have class to attend the next day and involving in any black organizations.

Aksi-aksi yang pernah dirakam setahun dua dahulu.

Aku sudah gian. Tolong lah.

How I Spend My Boxing Day

2009-12-26T08:10:00.004+08:00

Out for drink with great friends, and remember the day the most important person in my life came to this world.

Happy Doplo Nang Disember.

Au Revoir

2009-12-23T14:46:00.003+08:00

Thanks for everything. Take care of yourself. I'll come and see you again one day. Bye now, I have a flight to catch.

Snowy Weekend and The Final Whistle

2009-12-20T06:02:00.010+08:00

It is a sweet week of football news, at least to the way I read it. It came short of the script of romantic movies I would pay to watch. It is snowing everywhere in the UK, and it is with such grace English football has its stories drizzle. I am not the biggest fan of snow, although I have to submit to the fact that it is beautiful when it does.

The view of the frosty torrent is just breathtaking as I near the window for a peek, and the coldness easily annoys my Malay skin. I haven't been out for workout since it snowed, so most of the time was spent under the roof. It is gold, considering I have few books needed to be finished before going back, and of course, getting myself ready before boarding the plane. And what better way of doing it with some football news interlaced to compromise the actual playing hours I have wasted due to this beautiful and at the same time ugly weather.

Maybe the biggest and the most talked about by my countrymen was the success of Malaysian football team in SEA Games, possibly the second biggest football tournament in the region, after ASEAN Football Championship. But in terms of historic significance, SEA Games stands taller than ASEAN Football Championship, previously known as Tiger Cup, and presently known as AFF Suzuki Cup (much to do with the change of sponsorships).

Malaysia went to Laos with little hope of winning, and a bronze medal would be more than enough. It was due to Thailand and Vietnam's excellent form that Malaysia agreed to settle for anything they could. But the odds were turned around by the players, who were of course there to fight, and not calculate what was on the paper. They showed real determination and brilliance (by the region's standard) to bag the gold medal, beating Thailand and Vietnam in the process.

Back to reality, winning a gold medal in SEA Games does not paint the picture of Malaysian football doing well. It is just a tournament with age-limits. But it is good to take it as a driving impetus for the local football to grow. Now the challenge has increased in size, and Malaysian football has to be ready to seize it.

The most heartwarming development, aside from seeing Malaysian boys on the podium as gold medallists, was the spirit in Malaysian football fans that were instantly enlightened. The upbeat emotional support was similar to Dead Men of Dunharrow's when Aragorn summoned and commanded them to join him in the Battle of the Pelennor Fields.

Malaysian football fans are mostly the Dead, and most of them were summoned the day Malaysian football team won the gold medal. I was particularly emotional with the support and care Malaysians actually have in their own football team, and I hope they will honour the support even if the team is losing.

The boldness in the foreseeable frosty rain did not stop Liverpool from being unpredictable, as the team go through a rollercoaster ride inside the first half of the season. The win against Wigan was believed to be the turn of The Reds' misery ride, with Fernando Torres back to bang for more. Rafa Benitez even concluded his firm confidence that Liverpool will end the season as top four, but little did he know that the future is not as sweet as he had predicted.

Few days before Portsmouth hosted Liverpool at Fratton Park, European football casted its eyes to the next episode of UEFA Champions League which has now entered the second round. The bill was out and the world was shocked to learn how much money was made from the tournament, and clubs still involved were eager to get the ball, and cash rolling.

Liverpool were out of cast even before the last group fixture, and English football's bragging rights hope lies in Manchester United, Chelsea and Arsenal. The draw produced two dramas involving two reunions; Mourinho with Chelsea, and golden boy David Beckham with Manchester United.

The ghost of Mourinho was there at Stamford Bridge even before the draw - in FC Porto, the team Mourinho revolutionized few years ago. But this time, he is coming for real with another team he is perfecting, Inter Milan. Mourinho is my favourite manager of all-time so far and no one comes near to his charismatic and intelligent demeanor in managing a top class football team.

The value Mourinho possesses is not only in his pugnacious nature and contentious relationship with the media, but the way he protects his player and honour the player who plays for him. I raised my eyebrow when he called himself The Special One many years ago when he arrived at Stamford Bridge, but I think he has made his point now.

He turned down the offer to be England's manager right after he left Chelsea and is now taking Italian league by a storm with his free-firing side Inter Milan. I predict a close match to welcome back Jose Mourinho at Stamford Bridge.

The 1992 FA Youth Cup winning-team players will be reunited at Old Trafford on March 10, as David Beckham will be back in the tunnel. For so many love-hate stories between him and Alex Ferguson, I think the bigger story is how David Beckham's career took it turn in different way as his fellow winger Ryan Giggs' had.

Both were untouchables at their prime under Sir Alex Ferguson, and both were predicted to be the driving force in United's success for as long as Sir Alex is in charge. But fame and money lured the number 7 away as he signed for Real Madrid, and for me, David Beckham was no longer David Beckham I once knew.

David Beckham struggled, although being one of the famous Galacticos. He won La Liga after four years with Real Madrid, and he was subbed in the decisive game that handed Real Madrid the title, ironically by current England manager, Fabio Capello.

He moved on and signed for LA Galaxy, and won 2009 MLS Western Conference title, after two years battling with his own form and relationship with Galaxy fans. It has been few years since he played for England, and the hole is getting deeper as Fabio Capello is now the manager.

Likewise, United number 11 never gets old, as since David Beckham left, he collected another Champions League trophy, three Premier League titles, one FA Cup, two League Cups, three Community Shield and a FIFA Club World Cup. And recently, he was awarded PFA Player of the Year and BBC Sports Personality of the Year.

Although at one point his place was in peril as another United Number 7 came into the fray in the form of Cristiano Ronaldo. But Ryan Giggs prevailed and took the challenge to remodel his game brilliantly to keep up with the new pace of the game.

As for David Beckham, the years were wasted with fame and money. He should know by now that the has chosen the wrong path, if his ambition was more glory and honour. Now he is playing for Milan on loan, and expectedly struggling for place.

Ryan Giggs and David Beckham chose to be in different stories, and on March 10, they will pit against each other. But the battle for honour will be finished for David Beckham if he waved to the United supporters and then headed for the bench, as Ryan Giggs led the team on the field which grows him up.

When Liverpool went down to Fulham last October, United took it as a celebration. But ahead of United's much anticipated reunion with David Beckham, they stumbled at Craven's Cottage. It was bad timing for any Liverpool fans to laugh at the deja vu Fulham gave to United fans, as the trip to Portsmouth was proved to be an unproductive one.

Mascherano was sent off, and Liverpool were beaten with two goals unanswered. Maybe the saddest thing was to know that both Fernando Torres and Steven Gerrard were playing. The pressure is piling on Rafa Benitez, as the hints of getting the boot was rectified by his colleague, Mark Hughes who was sacked albeit winning against Sunderland.

But I hope Liverpool's board still have their common sense intact, as team-building takes time, and Rafa Benitez needs time.

So the world champions were downed by Fulham, and the crown was fit to be passed on. Thousand miles away from Craven's Cottage, the crown was on the line as reigning European Champions, Barcelona take on their latin counterparts, Estudiantes La Plata.

Estudiantes were unlucky to concede two late goals and had to settle runners-up. The bone in contention was no other than Lionel Messi who just has to win the FIFA World Player of the Year award after the vital match winner. He was the runner-up for two consecutive years, and I am sure this year the title will be his.

And Wan Zahidi wrote a newsletter for Gangdust's Facebook group about me last night, and I am flattered for such acknowledgment. I hope Gangdust will still be alive and kicking, and continue the legacy we agreed to build together.

And my last football-filled weekend in the UK has come to an end. English football experience has never come this close, and it was a delight to be part of the massive atmosphere (even for a little while). But sadly, my dreams are bigger than that. See you again sometime.

Ah, the snow, till then.

Budak Koleq and Pride

2009-12-21T04:53:00.002+08:00

As published in Konspirasi Overfloor on 19th December 2009, 37 years after the birth of Alyssa Milano, the actress I once had crush on. I was so proud of having such excellent taste.

Mr Liew of the basketball team was conferred an honorary membership in MCOBA just recently, making history as the only non-Malay to receive the honour of its kind. The decision was lauded as denying any racial sentiments Malay College old boys usually associated to.

In the case of Mr Liew, it is without doubt that any contributions in that size should only be replied with honour, and if there is anything bigger than conferring an honorary membership, such thing would be due for Mr Liew.

On behalf of the Class of 2005, I would like to thank Mr Liew for his timeless contributions in taking Malay College basketball to a whole new level. I can only judge from my two years experience there circa 04/05 that the college was orientating themselves in conforming to the nature of MCKK which is to build the future on its success. Apart from my batch's excellent PMR result in 2003, and my batchmate's Zaim's triumph in Pidato Piala Di-Raja, there were no real success for the whole college could take pride of.

But Mr Liew re-modelled the basketball team and with assistance from few old boys, the team turned into a powerhouse and fearsome competitor. Most importantly, the team achieved results which brought back the air of pride to Kuala Kangsar.

I may not know him personally, but the impact he made to some people I know was exceptional. So thank you and congratulations to Mr Liew.

But that is it.

Malay College old boys have this strange fascination of taking pride for something they belong to. The most obvious one is being a Malay College boy. And a Malay College boy would bring together with them the belief that for anything the college achieved, even if they don't have anything to do with, they could bring home the pride.

The only real achievement for a Malay College boy is to get enrolled in Malay College first. Academically, the school houses the best boys in UPSR and PMR, and students are handpicked for place in Malay College, and I particularly acquired my admission on the latter's ticket.

So the basic pride is understandable. Moving on.

Within the gates and many walls the college has, there are so many other permutations of pride that stem from many possible achievements - in sports; like the basketball team and of course many other sports teams, debating, examination results and musical skills. These are the bricks Malay College boys thought to have the power to give them pride, and for them, pride translates to the biggest single power than can make them stand taller than anyone else, respect.

Please don't get me wrong, the motivation is in many way good and the kind of momentum should go uninterrupted. This is the driving impetus for MCKK success in the yesteryears, and the challenge to become good at so many different fields as to have the bragging rights and getting the respect should be seized to keep the MCKK air of success alive.

Getting out of MCKK is as much a success as getting into MCKK, and the success of getting in and out of MCKK should not be the only reason to be proud of. Getting into MCKK requires hard work, and with the amount of challenges we did not know in the pipeline ahead of us, the hard work to get enrolled was negligible.

I may sound selfish as there are hundreds of other boys who might have punched each other to get into MCKK but failed to get enrolled. It was an easy choice for me, because getting into MCKK was not my choice. I had to only fill the same form those girls had to fill before they got into SSP and TKC, and we had no idea which school we would get into if we did well in PMR.

Like I was in coming to this world as a Malay, I can only explain my enrollment in Malay College as a destiny, and God wanted me to be a Malay College boy, like the way He wanted me to be a Malay.

So how do I say I am proud to be a Malay? How can I be proud as something I did not choose to be?

But I know that I am proud for being the person I become given the environment I was brought up in. I grew up in Malay-speaking community, and in the Malay-culture practicing populace. I am proud in how the environment has moulded me into the person I become, no matter how limited the resources and how poor the environment could sometimes be. I definitely take pride of everything that I have achieved, but that is it, I achieved what I have achieved was because I was the person who was moulded into, not because I was a Malay.

This is the fallacy that Malay College boys have long fallen into. They take pride for something as petty as being a Malay College boy, and to take pride of something else you don't have anything to do with is just pathetic. But Malay College boys cleverly shroud the feeling with the sense of belonging and brotherhood they cherish. So to take pride and tell everyone that you are good because your schoolmate is good is just wrong to me.

Self-worth is a quality every Malay College boys should have if they want to steer clear of this black days. Little do they know, until they respect themselves and people around them, no one will respect them.

As a Malay College old boy, I feel saddened with the association of Malay College boys with strong closed fraternity clouded with pathetic vanity over our previous success. Previous success is something we need to build the next success on, not something we should just be proud of.

As long as Malay College boys go on the way they are, as long as the pathetic mental attitude of taking pride in other people's achievement does not change, as long as there is no true sense of self-worth and knowing what the college has turned themselves into, then any superficial attempt at getting respect will be an illusion.

As for the success of my friends who achieved something when they were in MCKK or wherever they are now, I am proud to have known them, but just by knowing them is not something I am expecting respect in return.

And as a Malay College old boy, I am not proud because I was once a student there, but I am proud because the school has changed me to become what I am today.

That is for me, a quality of a good school.

A97

2009-12-18T00:54:00.002+08:00

I can still remember vividly, and the year was 2004. When I was a clueless new guy, this guy took out a pen and paper, and drew me a picture of the Big School and pointed out which one is what and what.

Then he asked me to join him at Infolab and he took me in the editorial board, for me to find a reason to fall in love with the college.

People started to recognize me, coming to that, and life in MCKK had a sense of purpose. I was alive.

I have no idea how would I end life in MCKK, and how would I go through life being the guy who was once a 'budak koleq for two years' if I haven't met this guy.

He is such an inspiration. He was born today 21 years ago, but he has always been older than all of us.

I am proud to be someone you know.

Thanks and happy birthday.

1 2 3 Go

2009-12-17T06:54:00.001+08:00

Close your eyes.

SNAP!

Open your eyes.

See how quick I move on?

Dilema Anak Muda Nakal

2009-12-16T09:35:00.002+08:00

DAMN, in short.

It is just weird because few minutes ago I was so hungry. Then I went to the kitchen to look for food. So there was nothing ready to eat, so I would have to cook.

So I was left with two choices, to cook or to call for takeaway. I thought takeaway would be a great idea, since I was not wearing my Jamie Oliver hat. But my wallet did not look like the one Richard Branson has.

Library and ID card would not buy you food. So I went down the stairs again and started to look in the kitchen drawer. Mental image of what could I make with the limited raw food was drawn forcibly.

It was too much effort, because I realized I was not hungry anymore. Of course, I had a big lunch, dinner and quite a number of snacks in between.

Now I am back with my eyes on the laptop screen and fingers on the keyboard.

I can't lie to myself anymore. I am hungry but too lazy to do anything about it.

It must be the weather.

Okay, I am not hungry anymore.

But I don't know why I went to the kitchen again just now.

Royal Flush

2009-12-15T09:29:00.005+08:00

Malaysia cruised to the final to set up a date with Vietnam in the quest to end the 20 year draught. The last time we won it was 1989, the very year Malaysian football league was introduced as a semi-pro. Selangor won the league. It was a great year for Malaysian football, and for Selangor fans, I can only imagine the ecstasy.

Malaysia's F1 team have secured some guys to drive their cars next season. Do you know that it is actually pronounced Lotus F1 Racing and not 1Malaysia F1 Team?

MCOBA granted a non-Malay an honorary membership, which made me thinking to go back and serve the people I once was. It is nice to see someone cares about my alma mater, but it would be nicer if that someone is those who was part of it.

Speaking of MCOBA, a small scale meeting was held here at my place this weekend. We were not conferring anyone a membership, but instead we played cards, football, ate good food and laughed at bad jokes.

Some of my football people were here too. Thanks for coming, you guys are legends.

Anfield was hit by a storm as the young Gunners were spot on to deny the arrival of Alberto Aquilani. Torres and Gerrard played for 90 minutes, and so did Lucas. I have no idea what Rafa is up to, but I am sure he will make his point soon.

I finished reading a book and halfway through another, and I am blogging like a newscaster. Maybe that is the end product when you have no internet for a day.

And yes, I've told you, there will be a time when people will come crawling back at you if you play well. I guess now it is one of it. So, good luck in the final, Harimau Malaya!

Songkok Lebih Tinggi Dari Otak

2009-12-12T01:33:00.002+08:00

Have you seen the circulated picture of my prime minister 'drinking' with his Thai counterpart? In case you haven't, google it and take some time reading any comments. That would be necessary to get you fired up before reading this post.

Here, here, here, here and here in case you are too lazy and more bothered to look up for gay porn.

Although not officially an Islamic country, my country is mostly constituted by Muslim populace. Alcohol consumption is prohibited among the Muslims, and is further rectified by the country's law.

Yet, law doesn't prevent anyone from not committing any offense. It regulates the people and sets the imposition of penalties, but that doesn't mean that crime won't exist.

There is no single prime minister in my country's history who is not a Muslim. So the image of any one of the prime minister drinking in public might cause a great amount of perplexity among his concerned countrymen.

I am one of those people prohibited by both the civil and religious law to consume alcohol. I can understand the typical overreaction of my own people when they see something like this happens. The nature could be explained by both exposure given to them and their readiness to absorb anything given.

My people spend so much time on the internet, for all intents and purposes. Some of them working, some of them studying, some of them seeking for entertainment and some of them just can't help but to go online for nothing. Although the internet pretty much kills the joy of reading a book, at least it gives something for my people to read. In that sense, it is good.

With the amount of information on the internet, it is almost impossible not to know anything, and simple deductive reasoning would imply those who spent hours reading should have more knowledge than those who spent hours playing football.

But my people is not equipped with logical reasoning enough to identify any logic behind something happened, because my people are emotional to the core, and will find any possible ways to rely on their own sentiments, the sentiment that should at least varied given the amount of knowledge they have.

The quality of being flexible and more open which could lead to an effective intellectual discourse is not there in my people. That is why they find a problem adjusting to any new knowledge they acquire.

The picture is larger and the prime minister alleged drinking picture is just an example of overreaction of my own people. The internet is possibly the easiest way to spot this flaw in my people make-up. It is so easy to find my people's overreaction on YouTube, in the comment section, there is always something controversial to talk about.

My people have the penchant of choosing a side and devoting themselves to it. So any form of assault would naturally replied with any sort of retaliations, no matter how stupid they might look.

The amount of knowledge they have can't stop them to being emotional, which is a shame considering the first verse sent by God to them was about knowledge acquiring and seeking divine guidance by reading God's word.

Another basic fallacy in the thinking of my people is their weird abstinence of talking about their own religion. Any new approach or idea would be fiercely rejected and shut down. Most recent example would be the arrest of Dr Mohd Asri Zainul Abidin, a pugnacious former Perlis mufti.

If the Muslims are not given the liberty to talk about their own religion, than who will? The notion should be restructured. There is no point of talking about freedom of education, freedom of speech or any sort of freedom, if the way of thinking is massively shallow.

I for one had the experience for such superficial way of thinking of my own people when my view on certain religious matter was rejected simply because they thought I was not morally appropriate to even bring up the issue. It would be the same case for any Muslim girl whose opinion on her own religion rejected just because she doesn't wear tudung (hijab).

It is ludicrous in every sense of the word.

I am just sick of looking at my own people who spent hours exploring the world, acquiring knowledge, only to go back narrowing their mind all over again, as if the adventure was unreal.

I am not in the position to judge whether to criticize my prime minister should he really consume alcohol red handed. I know his political tendencies and his history, but don't expect me to know what he has under his pants. Even if he drinks, it is always between him and God to deal with.

My only problem is the approach my people take to deal with an issue - bound to be too emotional and utterly illogical.

But then again, the sweeping generalizations do not apply to all of my people. I have to make certain exceptions. I believe my people have what it takes to be successful, only if they start to become one of those exceptions.

The belief, that is why I still call them 'my people'.

"It might look like one, but it is actually halal." That would be a hilarious clincher.

Football Folly

2009-12-10T23:26:00.006+08:00

Football is a subjective sport. This nature makes it easy for anyone to talk and look like a pundit. A simple comment and a loose suggestion about a match or any player would easily give any bloke a vague air of intellectuality and grasp of the game. That is why we see so many figures going up to give comments on television and newspapers, so many that we have lost count.

Of course, I am not going to be blunt saying that all of them are up there trying to look cool, because some of them are very commendable and deserve more credit. I like a football pundit who can judge a situation with honesty, common sense and a welcome dash of humor. But most importantly, a good pundit is someone who strongly backs his opinions with facts.

Politics are not welcomed in football in any ways, not even in the manner politicians would present themselves through their rhetoric. Football pundits, as much as the players, managers and fans, have a big role to play to raise the game, and they too have to behave correspondingly. They have to go beyond rhetoric, overpowering words and wits because you don't vote to win a football match.

Football has taken a nasty battering over the last decade for not being a gentleman's game. It hurts me every time football is put into comparison with rugby, in which the latter enjoy the regard of being more noble.

Football has been equated with un-gentleman-like behaviour such as cheating, diving, swearing and complaining. Players and sometimes managers are the ones responsible for this. And off the field, violence and racism marred the beauty of the game for so long. The fans are directly blamed for this. Football has endured enough pain to bear for another one, the one that kills the sport in the most insidious way - the association of football with stupidity, reflected by how football people talk about the sport.

Talking about football, a simple thing players, managers, fans, pundits, every football people take for granted.

Don't get me wrong, it is nice to see how much football is celebrated and talked-about, but too many people given space to talk about football gives more space for mistakes which are costly to the face of the game. To the casual observer, it all looked very easy and without relevant facts and numbers to back the opinion, the world's view on football being the sport for the mentally challenged will continue to stay.

There are so many columns on newspapers, so many shows on television about football, and even the guy sitting next to you can throw their opinions away if you are looking for responses after a certain football match. It is so easy to give opinions that we over-compromise the basic research to understand the subject.

But with football terms and the right connotations, it is easy to convince anyone that we know everything about football, when actually we haven't got a slightest clue.

It'd be the case for me if someone asked me to write about fashion; I might think I know and understand it, but I have no idea whatsoever beyond superficial level.

Any opinions without facts not only tarnish the image of the sport I love, but also operate intelligently to dumb down the football people. Ultimately, the sport will go into the direction the world have in it: to be a sport for the stupid.

I am not writing this just because I am beyond annoyed at how Rafa Benitez has been treated over these very hard few months for Liverpool. True, this might be one hard slap on his face, but this is not the hardest.

It's not always possible for any teams to win trophies, but good managers averaged a 50 percent win rate, and the top class managers were up around 60 percent. Benitez increased his number in his five year reign with 56%, and given how illustrious his rivals would catch him up and the amount of money they spent and the amount of money Liverpool had, he is one of the best manager European football has ever seen.

His win percentage is even higher than the great Bill Shankly himself, but of course, the percentage is not the only parameter up for comparison.

That is the kind of workings and contexts I made for my judgment which satisfied me every time. Sadly, the kind of effort were left out by most football people.

Football is very tactical, and it is very hard to explain any state of play with subjectivity alone. Science has pretty much consumed the facet of the game, and football people seem not to bother catching up.

It is a tedious effort to look up for statistics, numbers and history, so football people choose to compromise them with their baseless common sense which is easier to do.

Of course, the likes of Alan Hansen, Andy Gray, Paul Tomkins and Jeff Stelling never failed to assure me that while some other ignorant made it looked so easy to give football opinions which fit the assumption that football is a stupid game, football is a game for thinkers at its core.

I hope with the World Cup coming next year, people will not get too excited to give opinions that would not only make them look stupid, but the sport as well. Especially my countrymen, who have this strange penchant in doing anything for the sake of looking cool and up-to-date with the latest fad. I am fully sure that looking cool as a football pundit in any mamak stalls during the stage of football's biggest event is one of the thing they are looking forward to

I guess baseless opinions hit me not just in football, as a friend recently told me that I am a ladies man. I am not particularly sure how far he went to come with that opinion. But as far as I am concerned, the last time I checked, I have only 146 female friends out of 625 friends on Facebook!

I can go on, but you get the idea.

True, baseless opinion is easy.

P/s - The picture was taken to show how easy it is to pull a football pundit face. Even I can do it, casually while having tea and banana, with Wan Zahidi as the moderator.

Real

2009-12-09T10:53:00.002+08:00

World is a stage where nothing is real. Except for one - and let me tell you this, the only thing that is real is a mother's love.

She who loves you no matter who you are, and whoever you want to be.

Pen and Paper

2009-12-07T04:49:00.005+08:00

The pen hit he paper in the most seductive of way. The hand nearly smudge the fonts on the creamy paper. The ink is still wet when he realized that he has written something worth of note.

When you try so hard to be a man, you become a girl.

He looked at the ceiling with great reverence, might be to himself or the man he turned to write the line. He continued -

When you try so hard to be a man, you become a girl.

WHEN YOU TRY SO HARD TO BE A MAN, YOU BECOME A GIRL.

over and over again, ending in large sturdy capitals. Why he stopped might be tricky to answer the fickle son, but surely great abstention was required. Maybe he stopped because he had made his point.

Or he stopped because he was no longer afraid to smudge the paper when he closed the book.

Sapot

2009-12-04T22:02:00.001+08:00

World's eyes are set on South Africa for long, but tonight they are magnified for the draw. It is an impending event of glamour with star-studded attendance, all the more a suggestion of commercial participation in football.

Don't get me wrong, publicity makes good business sense and it is critical to make football a well-publicised sport. David Beckham will join Eusebio, Kaiser, Milla and Platini on the seats of the greats, only that his place in Capello's biggest ever campaign is looking shadowy. He is a nervous man, both for anticipating a call up from Capello, and the fear of being grouped with France or Portugal.

But he is the most famous face in sports, so he can be seen anywhere.

A staggering 200 million viewers are noted to be casting their eyes on the draw, and at least few hundred thousand pairs would be coming from my home country.

While it is widely celebrated, even before the kick off in Johannesburg, I quietly take ignominy every time world football is having fun. Because in my country, football is bedridden, in dire need of a magic potion to recover.

It actually kills me to throw my weight behind the country I barely know and support them when they play in World Cup. The love is never real, nevertheless I had to give out of despair and the fear of missing out the fun.

Algeria, North Korea and Honduras are back on the train after a period of impasse. Brazil and Spain are leading the train neck and neck. The Irish will watch the French compete in the greatest of bitter, while Italy trying to remind the world that the cup is with them.

Malaysia, can only set their eyes. Saddest thing, no matter how magnified they are, the love is forever illusory until the country herself is in one of the pots.

I'll make the love real.

P/s - Cheers for the love.

Stand if you dare

2006-10-19T18:01:00.002+08:00

"Who knows the answer for this one?" asked a teacher to his students. He always did that.

prepare for his students a very trivial questions upon completing a chapter of the syllabus. The

class was very loud as one can hear them talking like a deaf. But when the teacher hand them the

query, they appeared like a dumb. Speechless. Mute. But they did thinking. Think, think and think.

Still, they were on their seat. It was like 30 000 of crowd roaring raucously in a football match

before. But then, as the trivial question came into view, it was the contrary.

Minutes after, a student stood up to answer the question. He stood, and walked towards the

whiteboard with sky-high confidence, poise. His friends looked at him cynically. Stared at him as if

he was Master Yoda, an alien from the outer space. The boy then carved his answer on the board.

"Wrong," said the teacher. BOOM! The class gone crazy after that. They were alive! They roared

again! They laughed, jeered to the boy. "Buek malu yo" Disappointed, embarassed and humiliated.

That was what he felt. There goes a heart of a loser. The teacher smiled.

"Last chance, anyone?" asked the teacher again. Everyone were looking at each other as they

were too afraid to stand for their answer. But then, few seconds after, a boy stood and walked

through the passage of fame. He knew, he can't be the one to be laughed, jeered, mocked.

"This is my answer,". Wait, but his answer was the same like the previous boy carved. Wasn't

that wrong? What he was thinking? "Your answer is the same like your colleague before, and

therefore, I have to say, your answer is wrong,"

"@*&*!(@&amp;$!@(^$&$^!@&$!Harharharharhharharhahrahrharhar!!!Doh a lu!!harharhahr&((*&!!"

the class was so high after drinking the laugh-oholic liquor, again. "Harharharharha@$!(@^@!$^!!"

"Wait," the boy said. "What's wrong with my answer? If this answer is wrong, show me the correct

one. No way my calculation is wrong!". The teacher's eye can't stop looking at the boy's face. So did

the audience. What's next?

"Well done, you passed the test," the teacher said to the boy. "Test?" the class thought. "Yes,

it's a test. His answer was correct. It was perfect, and flawless. But I just want to see if his

confidence stand the same way as his answer's. When I said his answer was wrong, he stood for

his right. He was poised to his answer. The student before really disappoints me. He simply left

his answer when others jeered at him. So did you guys. Look, you are still on your seat. Do

nothing but commenting other's flaw," The teacher left the class. The class knew what the teacher's meant by the test. It was something to do with themselves. They have to change from now on. Their mind, their sole,

their heart. They looked at the student who got the teacher's respect. "Can we be like him?"

4:15PM
Monday, 27th June 2005

Epiphany

2009-11-30T18:46:00.004+08:00

24th November 2009

I will give some time for this sepia-toned waking up to end. Winter is colder than I can bear. It is true what they say, never underestimate the weather. It can bite you hard before you know it.

But life is short, and I need more than waking up courageous to make decisions. I can't walk on frosty veneer with the great of grace when I struggle to even find the right shoe. The right shoe, the one defined by people around me, has dragged me this far believing that it could not be anything else.

The roads are slippery, I know. Most of the lot do not want me to kill the grace; slip and fumble, the lot I greatly dear. And another would find amusement in the murder, nothing much anyone could do.

I have chosen my own shoe. Hunches and voices should tell me it is hard for anyone I love could digest. The hearts were stabbed and crushed, and they bleed silently. I had to do it, for mine has long lost and I want it back.

I don't think I have to pick myself up, because I am descending to ascend, not slipping and be sent.

Nothing will ever be the same again, I try not to think much about. Walking on in silence; each of us deep in thought. That is uncomfortable, but I need to hold tight.

Dream, passion is a state of mind. People raised the glass of their success of defacing their dreams and passion trying to make me feel inadequate unless I live their dream. From all available surface, things look too good to be true and I've never allowed to answer back.

I have failed to see how standing on top gracefully could be satisfying when I actually wanted to sit down calmly, to do things I have always wanted to do.

I could tell my children that daddy had given it a go. But nothing could daddy do when it was not daddy's dream anymore.

Daddy was young and stupid, and daddy was old and wise.

Apple over orange, a turnaround. The decision is both hard and easy. But life is not just about climbing up the ladder people erected for me. I have dragged the man long enough, and it is time to set him free.

People either love me or hate me, or they don't really care and it is easy to stand up anonymously.

Today, I have decided to finally put a face to a name, and a name to a face. I know when the time comes to leave, I just have to walk away quietly and don't make any fuss.

So I officially quit doing medicine today for a simple and complicated reason - I have a dream and I want it back.

Al-Klasiko

2009-11-30T04:43:00.005+08:00

El Clasico is one of my favorite football rivalries. The others being Liverpool - Manchester United and Selangor - Kedah. I have something about football rivalries, the history and intense building up prior kick off. And of course it is nice to see how far passion and loyalty could take a fan in a football match.

Football is a game of balance. A team can be known to bang goals after goals, an indication of a team's attacking prowess, and another might be famous for their rock solid defenders, a sign of a team's defending ability. They might be a joy to watch, but at the end of the season, chances are, they won't be lifting any silverware.

Because attacking alone is not enough without defending, vice versa.

Real Madrid is an example of football imbalance, despite financially possible to rule the world. Unable to get Arsene Wenger is a problem of meagre worth if their defensive line is a terrible fit in estimation of the club's value.

Up front, they are looking unstoppable. Cristiano Ronaldo led the new era Galacticos with Kaka and Karim Benzema joining him by his side. Then came Xabi Alonso to provide, akin to the role of David Beckham in the previous Galacticos era.

Real Madrid have too big a pool of attacking players. Raul never gets old, Ruud van Nistelrooy is desperate to get playing time and youngster Gonzalo Higuain looks confident to fill the massive boot Raul and Ruud would leave vacant.

Even if Kaka is unavailable, Guti should be more than ready to roam the midfield area, so do Granero and the Diarras.

The point is, Real Madrid should have no problems to bag goals. Their problems is how not to concede.

Iker Casillas is a Spanish goalkeeping legend, even when he is playing now. But a great goalkeeper needs a great line of defenders in front of him. Peter Schmeichel wouldn't have been great without Jaap Stam and Ronny Johnsen, and of course, Buffon is not a Buffon without Cannavaro and Materrazi.

No offense, but I think Raul Albiol and Pepe aren't Galacticos material, the bones of contention to Real Madrid's massive ambition.

It was absolutely no surprise when they lost to Barcelona an hour ago. Zlatan Ibrahimovic is a world class striker, everyone knows that. But you are a Real Madrid player, a world class team. Defensive fluke is the last thing you want to commit if you are playing at that high level of football.

The other problem is Pellegrini's inability to exploit the big pool of attacking player he has by not employing Kaka, arguably the best playmaker in the world, in a position where he could freely roam as a playmaker.

A more astute Pep Guardiola, on the other hand was quick to spot the hole and appointed Xavi and Iniesta to easily outmuscle the lonely Xabi Alonso. Hence, without midfielders' effectivity, money spent on Cristiano Ronaldo and Karim Benzema is wasted.

I don't have to tell you how quiet Kaka has become when he joined Real Madrid from Milan.

But the loudest men on the pitch weren't Xavi and Iniesta, but the 2Ps: Puyol and Pique, whom rock solid defending was beyond brilliant. Victor Valdez had the best of time with nothing much to do when his to centre backs were on fire. Cristiano Ronaldo looked like a little kid in need of an ice-cream and Kaka was a clueless tramp.

Possession was in favour of Barca, thanks to Xavi and Iniesta's calm, but the number of shot saw Madrid to be more superior - 16 shots but only two on target is enough to explain Barca's not only good in attacking.

El Clasico ends, and a balanced team get the better of a financially balanced team.

P/s - The picture is a deliberate effort to show how well balanced Barcelona as a team.

Raya Si Burung Puyuh

2009-11-27T04:58:00.002+08:00

Selamat Hari Raya and Maaf Zahir Batin, whoever you are.

BT-end

2008-06-06T19:58:00.008+08:00

It costs me MCOBA Futsal – which my batch team ran ragged winning the grand title, our first time and against all odds, including Erare surprisingly grow to be the top scorer.

Yes, I just got back from the compulsory 5-days camp, a Kursus Kenegaraan as the penghulu would say, organized by Biro Tatanegara. It is made compulsory for all open minded Malaysian students who are going to spend taxpayers money to attend – to be brainwashed as a way to instill instant patriotism and to infuse the pro-government ideology in the minds of a group of people whom probably smarter than them.

As a way to prepare myself from any unexpected clutter and confusing mess during the course, I guided myself through the BTN website to find out what the course is all about, few days beforehand. I was particularly dumbfounded in the bureau aptitude in designing the module, which I described as holistic, provided every area of how to be a good Malaysian is clearly pointed out in the arrangement of agenda. It’s long winded (as always) objectives noticeably call every attention to advocate development efforts by the government, as well as to understand the intricacy of utilitarian principle and social ethical conduct. I was excited actually, knowing how elaborated this course would be, albeit many negative impressions surround it even before I received the course letter.

I was lucky to be placed at Kem Bina Negara Lipis, obviously not because the place homes the birthplace of Najib Tun Razak and Siti Nurhaliza. It is new and I was privileged to be among the first to use the camp, and surely not the last to complain about the quality of the place. Simply put, while it may sound cliché for a camp to have water problems, I can never tolerate electric connection problem – when I woke up as early as 5 in the morning only to find myself in confusion whether I just got back from a futsal session or something, provided the amount of sweat formed.

Alah manja la kau. Peluh sikit pun tak
boleh.

Sikit kepala bapak kau. Anyway, the food was superb. I was served as much as 6 times a day, to which I was anticipating a weight gain. As always, metabolism said no. In addition, thanks to Amir Tan’s strict diet policy and my group mates’ kesederhanaan dalam pemakanan, I was blessed with bigger portion. Terbaik.

I was told that it is precisely the same module used even if your camp is located in Suria KLCC or St. Jakob Park, Switzerland.

Four speakers were invited to cover four sessions of 8 hours lecture – and 8 group activities were carried out before 4 books were given to be read within the space of 3 nights as preparing ourselves for the exam. The thickness is equivalent to height of rice I scooped every meal session.

Being naïve (failing the course means shattering the whole studying overseas dream), the speakers, as well as the selected line of facilitators were given undisputed autonomy to insult and malign the idea of human rights, especially among the non-bumiputera. The take home message is simply put as breathing the air in this country necessitate a huge dispensation from the Malays. The idea is simple, shut up and put up, or get lost, which mean failing the course. So along the way, we have to spare our thoughts and agree of any provocations imposed.

The highlight of the course, as least for me, was not the lousy and easy peasy physiological test, but the group activities covering on the issue of politics and racial issue in this country. We were told by the facilitators to speak up, even though the matter is considered as taboo to be discussed explicitly. And it was my time to shine as well – especially the issue of social contract, racial discrimination and bloggers credibility were brought up. All this wild, blind shooting by them, together with nasty provocation has not been backed by evidence – maybe because it has been an accepted practice in our country not to question any claim, no matter how unintelligent or far-fetched, as long as it is done on behalf of bangsa, agama dan negara.

Personally, I have nothing against any facilitators or any people in the bureau, as they are designed to be like that and I just hope they can step out of the comfort zone and speak up for themselves, and not because of the module said so.

Enough said.

But there are things that I just could not disagree, in fact, I feel more proud of being a Malaysian when matters like the achievements and sovereignty of the country were put on the table. While I built up nice close relationships with other course-mates, the course actually did help me in refreshing my understanding about this country. Am I becoming more patriotic? The answer is definitely yes.

Menara Bangsa Akan Kita Bina,
Perkasa Tiada Rebah Lagi.

All in all, the mind boggling nature of the course which put my stand and judgment on the line was indeed another lesson for me to find truth – and not just good food as consolation.

Anyway, though the personal feedback from the facilitators was not that convincing, I hope I’ll pass the course – and no phone calls from my sponsor as well.

P/s - Thanks Mior, for the picture. And for the delay as well.

Prestige

2009-11-25T18:43:00.001+08:00

Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret, but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call "The Prestige". - John Cutter.

Are you watching closely?

Gangdust: The Story So Far

2009-11-23T08:35:00.004+08:00

Maybe what we asked was a bit too much, but to dream is not a sin.

We found ourselves hanging when the biggest Malaysian sporting events outside Malaysia had moved into the stage where everyone was asking whether everyone was going.

Little we could do if our university do not have the privilege to hold a big number of Malaysian students to make up an established Malaysian society, because to play in Nottingham Games, you have to play for your respective university's Malaysian society.

We are not blessed with quick feet and amazing trickery with the ball to capture anyone's attention if they saw us playing on the field. Added to the mixture was the fact that it was only our first few months playing under cold oceanic climate. The regularity and human conscience would allow those who are counting days to have more playing hours in the event.

And for any young blood like, there is always next year.

For me, it was either playing or not going. I've got through, but the story was neither entirely about me or started at Nottingham.

Because for us, the biggest Malaysian sporting event is at Liverpool, where the love story unfolded.

Napoli didn't set the footballing world alight in its first 80 years, we all know that. Sir Alex Ferguson didn't gather the esteem overnight, and neither did Arsene Wenger. It took time and perseverance to leave a legacy behind. Of course, with passion and love.

I am a Liverpool fan, so the love for the city came quite naturally. But it was not my love for the city alone that brought the team we were about to form to the city. It was the passion and love that brought us there, when we knew that the first sporting event to take place after Nottingham Games that year was Liverpool Games.

The year was 2008, and the month was November. Liverpool was next on the calendar, and we were in dire need to be there, playing.

Maybe we were all too bitter not to turn to our Malaysian societies for a place to play, because as the saying has it, if we can't join them, beat them.

Us in Liverpool, November 2008. (L-R: Mudin, Kajai, Syahmi, Wan Zahidi, Mukhlis, me, Faiq, Toyot, Dedust)

So it was passion, bitter, anger, and love for the game that gave birth to the band we used to call Dedust and The Gang. With few e-mails and invitations, we've got enough players to compete in Liverpool Games and technically, Gangdust FC were born that day.

Which was exactly a year ago.

We knew each other from college, and I had the privilege to play alongside some of them in the college football team few years ago. So we are no strangers to each other.

Mukhlis studies in Leeds and a big United fan. Wan Zahidi and Faiq both in London and support Arsenal. Syahmi and I stay up north while Mudin in the Midlands. Toyot lives in Sheffield, few hours away from Dedust who lives in Liverpool.

Geography, course of study and favorite teams are few of many reasons to keep the distance even greater among us. But of course, it did not happen.

Dedust and The Gang wore black as we started off fledgling. It was the coolest colour we could think of, and most importantly, economical.

I could still remember the moment I got off the train on a cold Friday night at Liverpool Lime Street and waited half an hour for Dedust, Mukhlis and Toyot to pick me up. We then walked up to the bus station to fetch the Londoners (Wan Zahidi and Faiq) who had the taste of wounding British bus ride for the first time, after being pampered with London Tube for so long.

Accommodation was superb by our standard. We couldn't ask for more. The room was big enough for the eight of us, with Kajai being the unsung extra, who traveled with Syahmi to be the team's first ever cameraman, and fan ultimately. Mudin didn't stay with us due to logistic problems.

We were so happy to see each other that we forgot that we had a tournament to play the next day. The time was spent fooling around as opposed to discussing tactics and set pieces. We cooked supper that could equal to a king's dinner and we were too full to doze off. I would spare the details of the amount of laughs we had, especially the one we got from Kajai, who was on top of his performance that night.

The team was a balance, and we didn't have much problems in any area of preference. But the problem for any teams has always been the one between the goal post, the goalkeeper. Mudin was reluctant to wear the glove for a reason we'd figured out a year later. But we were lucky that he understood that a team is not a team without a goalkeeper.

Wan Zahidi and Dedust are natural defenders and Mukhlis can play anywhere across the field as our utility player. We rely on Syahmi, Toyot and Faiq's speed and control of the ball to get the ball forward. So we have covered pretty much every area to at least not to get humiliated.

It was not the best first outing for the team, as we failed to qualify to the second round and had to settle for plate division. We played some good games, and had most of the ball possessions. But we found it hard to convert them into goals. We then lost in the quarter final to a team from Sheffield.

We held our chin up high, and we were proud of ourselves. It was not the be or end for Dedust and The Gang. We vowed to bounce back, in which as those bastards would say, there is always next year.

Which was true, because few months after that (the next year), the brethren convened again for another bout.

But before that, we took our time touring the city and had probably the best Chinese buffet in the world, and to add icing to the cake, we made a video to make fun and laugh at ourselves.

It was Manchester, next on the calendar.

Liverpool was a formative phase for Dedust and The Gang. We started to know each other better and learned how we move on the field for the chemistry to be nicely built. And off the field, we started to become very good friends.

It is nice to see the mood is still there when I told them that Manchester was on for a game. They replied in a blink, and we subconsciously entered another phase of the team where something serious needed to be carefully thought of.

Dedust and The Gang is not a one-off, as it turned out to be. We started brainstorming for a brand name, something to label and position us on the map. I have no idea how creative footballers could become sometimes, especially in things directly related to them. So the team needed a new name, and the table was open for suggestion.

The name Gangdust was a year long expedition, and it was not the first time that such brainstorming session had to be call for. It began as early as in Liverpool, when the team was informally formed. Being already in Liverpool, Dedust was obligated to do the paperworks, and had to deal with the organizers to register the team.

These are few takes that we had before we settled for Dedust and The Gang; Dedust Kick, Neraca Hidup, Fly.com, of course came from Dedust himself; Jiwa Kacau, Hati Luka, From Banting With Love, You Don't Kick The Dedust, by Mudin; Apa Nama Team Anda, Nickname, Team Bebas, Team 20-an, Terung, by Toyot and Faiq came up with Ding Dong FC and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

The list didn't stop there, as the flow continued. Mukhlis tried to sell the name 'Muka Escape' and Wan Zahidi was perverted as always, with 'The Bangable' and 'The Bangbus'. But the subject of contempt was in Syahmi's grandiose idea of a team name, 'The Maestro'. Wan Zahidi was starting to get personal, Mukhlis too. We thought it is worthless to be named Zinedine Zidane when we actually play like Shukor Adan.

So many ideas and so many names, and we were spoilt for choices. But it all went to the trash when Dedust demonstrate the use of tyranny to ensure stability, as he took the matter in his hands.

He had the form, and named the team Dedust and The Gang.

That was how. We just had to agree, as a way to say thanks to him for registering the team.

So in Manchester, I did the registration. So the power is back to the people. It was quick as we grew fond in the name Dedust and The Gang surprisingly. We just had to incorporate it with something to make it sounds cool.

There was not a single war of words when Faiq replied 'Gangdust' at 3.08pm on the 27th of January 2008. Everyone agreed and we have a new name. Not only a fervent DotA and FarmVille player, Faiq is the man who named Gangdust.

While other teams might start talking about tactics, we were more interested in talking about the team jersey, as new team needs a new kit. We were again looking for something cheap and probably more reputable than a simple black t-shirt.

Sports Direct was a bailout as Celtic home jersey was on sale. It is something uncommon as I have never seen any other teams wearing the jersey in any Malaysian games. It looked nice too. So it was an easy pick, and now Gangdust have a colour.

Wan Zahidi could not make it to Manchester and it caused a brief scare for the team as we were in deficit of a defender. Mudin offered to fill Wan Zahidi's absence but that would leave his place empty too, and that is worse.

That is when someone in Leicester came with a good news, to play as a goalkeeper to allow Mudin play as a defender for the first time. It came in the form of Firdhaus whom we call Jaya, another guy we met in college.

The team's diet was excellently taken care of when Jaya is aboard. He cooks very well and he would be the first to wake up to cook us breakfast. As you can tell, he is very good with his hands, which is quite obvious for his inclination to play as a goalkeeper (other than scoring some girls which I just can speculate for the moment.)

Manchester Games was smaller in scale compared to Liverpool Games, and we wanted to give a good first (or second) impression for the brand. We were worried if Wan Zahidi's absence would leave a massive gap, but Mudin proved that he was more than able to fill the shoe. So was Jaya, who was brilliant between the posts.

We had a good run-up generally and went to the quarter final and lost to the finalist. Certainly, there was an improvement and we were very happy to see that. My initial and only concern was the amount each player played in the tournament. It could be heartbreaking to come all the way and not playing enough games, I totally understand that. But it was a relief to know that all of us understood that whatever happened on the field, it was for the team's own good, because football is never a one-man show.

Manchester is one hour train journey from Liverpool, so we decided to stay at Liverpool at Dedust's place, again for the second time. We developed a romantic relationship with the place and decided to celebrate it as Gangdust's official accommodation and operation office.

Manchester Games in one word, maturing.

We went as far as creating a Facebook group to band together with friends and fans we made at Manchester. We tried to make it a practice to update those who joined the group with news we packed in a newsletter. I wrote the first few ones before Wan Zahidi joined the editorial. Toyot is involved in the technical operation of the group and every one of us has to widen the fan base through invitations.

Membership was quite slow in the first few months, and we barely had 30 members on the ship. The number climbed months later and we passed our 100 memberships before we play in Sheffield, where Sheffield Games was fixtured next after Manchester.

Of course, initiation of an enterprise is without doubt a hard thing to do, as we had to make the group as interesting as possible and it cost us greatly. I for one had to be continuously enthusiastic and passionate to set the team alight.

It did not come without some reprisals and hate mails. I've received so many criticism for being too passionate about a thing that is good-for-nothing, and somebody went as far as labeling the efforts a waste of time. Sometimes the passion within the lines I wrote in the newsletter caused them to hate me more. Anyhow, I have to thank them because without them, I would not have a story to tell.

Thanks for making Gangdust stronger.

Of course it is never about how many members and fans the group made because true fans are in the heart, not in the mere numbers. We are not bothered if the people who joined the group are not real fans, they just wanted to be in the group for the sake of it, because our biggest fans are ourselves.

Nevertheless, Gangdust is now established.

What's next on the calendar is a gossip among us, and being impatient and nosy like a psycho girlfriend, we just could not wait for the next tournament to play in. Toyot then came with a good news that Sheffield was organizing one, and being in Sheffield, the papers were given to him to submit.

Wan Zahidi is back and would be wearing green-white for Gangdust for the first time. Sheffield Games is quite reputable on the map, as we were oblivious that the news and promotions had been circulating for few months, even before Liverpool Games. We wouldn't know if Toyot didn't tell us.

Of course, Wan Zahidi's comeback had nothing to do with Sheffield Nasyid Competition that was scheduled after Sheffield Games. He was just psyched to know that we did well in Manchester that he didn't want to miss another outing.

The line-up was a reminiscence of the first we had in Liverpool. Jaya had to call the journey to Sheffield off due to work, and Mudin now back as goalkeeper. Mudin as a goalkeeper is a hard decision, to be honest, because we were desperately in need of a goalkeeper. I know he is more inclined (and more capable) in playing as a defender, and the decision to play him as a goalkeeper was hard for both me and him. As it might be the last game of the season, I promised him to look for replacement so that he could play in his first choice position. So it was a big favour from Mudin to play goalkeeper for us in Sheffield.

Complacency is the biggest opponent for any teams, established or not. We tried not to look back and steered the team forward all the time. Every new tournament is a new book for us, so we want to get it right every time.

Mukhlis was showing signs of his knee injury relapse, which was a scare to all of us. But he was not showing signs of quitting without a fight, as he battled the injury to play for us nevertheless.

The tournament sparked a pleasant rivalry between Gangdust and another team of our kind, Sperma. They were all from KYUEM, and the intensity came quite naturally.

We were grouped with Sperma and coincidentally, Newcastle, the team I played for in Nottingham. Sperma was a better team when they beat us and topped the group to qualify for the next round. We had to win the game against Newcastle to book the second place.

I believed in Newcastle when I played for them in Nottingham Games, and I know what are they capable of. So it was quite nervous when I am playing in the opposite direction now.

They need a draw to go through, and when I missed the given penalty, the score was still 1-1 and I thought it was over. It was not until Mukhlis presented a nice pass to set me one-on-one again with the goalkeeper to send Gangdust to the second round.

I have no idea how it worked, but we were drawn to face of all teams, Sperma in the first game of the second round. We had our second chance to turn the leaf over, and it would be sweet if it was done to knock them out the tournament. But they proved to be a more composed and organized lot, as they overpowered us to go through the quarter final.

It would have been a bigger margin if Mudin was not on form. The main problem was again in our ability to turn chances into goals, and we had to end the season with a second round knock-out finish, which was for me, a good result.

The fan base was expanding quite nicely, and we threw an end of the season party at Toyot's place to celebrate. Toyot is a nice host and has the coolest house and housemates ever. Syahmi stayed up all night to play video game on PS3, and me and Wan Zahidi belted out our magical voice in a SingStar battle. We had barbecue that night and it was a nice way to connect among ourselves, except for Dedust and Mudin's infamous knack to sneak out from helping out in the kitchen.

That was it for 2008/2009 season, and it was a long season I can remember. Decent run and excellent barbecue in Sheffield was a fitting end to a great season, and we couldn't wait for the start of the next season.

We broke up for summer break and I had to make sure relationship with those in the group is well taken care of. Wan Zahidi chipped in for some write-ups as well. It was nice to see some of the people wanted to be actively involved in the running of Gangdust next season, and two of them were going to don Gangdust jersey few months later.

Majin Mohsen and Ahmad Redzuan (Wandog), our fans-turn-players have confirmed their place in London to further their studies, and I made a quick reservation to secure their service for Gangdust. They were our junior in college, so the prerequisite to play for Gangdust was still preserved.

Another good news came from Kayrel Anuar who was coming to Sheffield. He is no stranger to me, having played with me, Wan Zahidi and Syahmi for the college team last few years. On the field, he is the man with three lungs, attributed to his exceptional fitness liken to Michael Essien.

We also received many kinds of feedback from those in the group; well wishes, sarcastic reviews and requests to play for the team. The pool is getting bigger and it is very nice to see the development.

Then came a sad news: we received a news from Mukhlis who had to undergo knee injury operation and he is set to be sidelined for a year. It was a big woe for the team, and we have to believe in Wandog and Kayrel to fill the enormous shoe left by Mukhlis.

Majin plays goalkeeper and literally, he couldn't fill even Mukhlis' room. He he.

Nottingham Games, although the biggest Malaysian sporting event, is a season opener for Malaysian football events in the UK. It was a good opportunity for the players to get the engine started before the real season starts. Also, it was an opportunity to gel with people from our respective place.

Me and Syahmi played for Newcastle for the second time, and the team still openly accept me albeit the goal I scored in Sheffield. Wan Zahidi played for a London team, and Faiq, Majin and Wandog played together for another London team. Toyot chose to give it a rest and handed his place in Sheffield's team to Kayrel. Dedust and Mudin played for Liverpool and Nottingham team, respectively. Mukhlis was there too, leading the team from Leeds as a manager.

Most of us had an excellent time, especially Wan Zahidi who won third place while Faiq, Majin and Wandog through to quarter final. Dedust's Liverpool team also had a nice run, playing in the quarter final. The new signing trio showed excellent snippets of what we are getting in the future with magnificent performances. Majin had his saving gloves on and was on fire in Nottingham. Wandog showed exemplary maturity with the ball, and Kayrel was as strong as ever with his hard and effective tackles.

I could only imagine the changes for Gangdust which is now on another phase of evolving.

Our 2009/2010 season kicked off in Liverpool. Homecoming, and we are back to the place where the journey started. Mukhlis, Kajai and Jaya couldn't hop their bodies on the train, but managed to hop on their well-wishes for our season starter. The entourage from London and Sheffield are now bigger in number, with Wandog and Majin joining Wan Zahidi and Faiq; and Kayrel joining Toyot.

Mudin decided not to play for Gangdust this time, and played for Nottingham instead. The biggest shock came from Dedust, who played for Liverpool. With Mukhlis out for injury, it might be a blessing in disguise as we had just enough players for Liverpool Games without him, Mudin and Dedust.

We began the season with full of confidence. With the presence of Majin, Kayrel and Wandog, they would have a big influence on the way team performed. As it turned out, they did well, better than we all expected.

We ran riot in our first game as we had an easy 7-0 win, the biggest win ever recorded by Gangdust. Our biggest fear was the team from Bradford who have the esteem of an established team with excellent history.

The second match against them was a nervous one. Majin was on fire again, and defenders (Wan Zahidi and Kayrel) didn't show any signs of backing off as they were rock solid in resisting Bradford's ferocious shots. I went on the second half and poached a goal for Gangdust and we continued to defend until the whistle blown.

And that was enough to send us to the second round, and the future looks bright for Gangdust so far.

We knew from the moment we arrived in Liverpool that if we were scheduled to play Sperma again, they were the team to beat before anything else. It was deja vu when we were drawn against Sperma, again in the next round. We had been looking forward to playing our arch rival and for me personally, I love everything about the game against Sperma; getting mentally prepared and soaking up the atmosphere. It's a fantastic feeling.

The game was indeed a tight one. It was as intense as expected. We went down twice and equalize twice to settle the game in penalties. Kayrel scored the best goal for Gangdust with a screamer from his position for our second goal.

I was haunted by the memory of Sheffield's penalty miss, even though its been days. I had to put an end to that stupid guilt and stepped on to take the penalty.

Penalties are all about keeping your nerve and having a bit of luck. I had both and converted the first penalty. Wan Zahidi converted the other one and eyes were on Majin to save the next penalty

It took his mercurial save to reserve the title hero. He made a wonderful save to deny Sperma's second penalty and handed Gangdust first ever win over Sperma.

The win secured our place in the quarter final, and of all teams, we had to go head-to-head against Nottingham, which Mudin played for.

Mudin turned out to be a brilliant defender, and he has improved so much since the day I met him in college. He organized the defense so well that it was very hard to penetrate. And equipped with rare amalgam of technical prowess and ball control artistry, Nottingham were deadly up front. They banged goals fun and it was no surprise for their easy win over us in the quarter final. We lost the game 3-5.

We are very proud with Mudin that we had his back all the way to the final, and in doing so, we developed a nice relationship with Nottingham players. Dedust's Liverpool team on the other hand, went to final too, but cheering for Nottingham team was easier to do, especially knowing that if Nottingham win the match, we would lose to a champion, which is a feat. It worked out well for Nottingham as they eased the final victorious.

Liverpool Games was an excellent improvement and we are a better team compared to last year. We bought ourselves another session at our favourite Liverpool's Chinese buffet, where the lads show massive improvements as well - Faiq ate more than a plate to begin with, Wan Zahidi has started to pick up some table manners, and now we have Majin who looked like a kid in a candy shop.

Liverpool Games 2009 ended with style and I am surprised to see how much changes the team have gone through.

It has been an eventful experience so far. We are continuously making significant changes to the make-up and structure of the squad, hence the journey doesn't stop in Liverpool.

I can't end this piece without enormous expression of personal gratitude to those who traveled with us to see us playing, and thanks for your tremendous supports. Of course, the atmosphere and sheer emotion that resonated from all sides of the team; the Facebook group and feedbacks were remarkable, and I am in no doubt that this was a huge and significant factor in the team's improvement.

Finally, given all the cynicism and negative publicity that sometimes surrounds the team, I want to extend my gratitude to the players who have taken Gangdust to their hearts. Playing with and for you guys is an honour.

Thank you all and let's go for more.

Happy 1st Anniversary, Gangdust.

P/s - The journey continues here and here.

Parlimen Kau!

2009-11-19T17:20:00.006+08:00

It is not a news that Members of Parliament have the access to internet in the Dewan, which could explain their staggering ability of understanding by heart few thousands topics to be debated. Some of them go as far as Facebook to update their followers (which in Facebook called 'friends') and for the advanced, Twitter.

I am the biggest skeptic when it comes to politicians' involvement in social networking. I wonder how it actually works, and who was actually doing all the typings and signing-ins. Of course the words came from the politicians themselves, but who actually did ramble through the politicians' pictures and pick one for their profile pictures?

Does it tell something about a politician's style and persona if he sticks to old-fashioned boring mugshot of him wearing formal jacket? Do they want to give an idea that he is a formal and serious person? Is that how they want to be presented socially, social-networkingly speaking?

I don't blame them totally, because on the internet, everyone wants to become somebody else.

I have a feeling that while some others were up for scheming laws and debating national issues, some Members of Parliament played Solitaire under the counter.

Ha ha of course I am kidding.

Because with computers with such specifications, they could play Counter-Strike instead!

P/s - I've never seen any MPs referring to a certain laptop while presenting their points in UK Parliament. They don't have much space to even bring extra paper folder, just looking at the way they sit themselves. However, they make more interesting meeting than what we have in Malaysia, which is more a cage for a fight than an intellectual discourse to fix the nation.