RETURN OF FARTMAN!

When Fever Becomes Us

Accomplishments are always a good thing. It gives people a sense of success, no matter how meager the accomplishment might seem to others. Most of us would probably rejoice and claim the utmost credit when we accomplish something, be it within us or otherwise.

Under the sweltering 33 degree heat this afternoon, I decided to be nice and gave the Euro R a wash and wax. The wash went pretty smoothly, with no gargantuan amount of strength and perspiration being exploited. I was pleased with myself when the Euro was finally clean.

Then began the polishing and waxing. First layer on, and I started to feel the perpiration clawing at my t-shirt. I took a breather, allowing the wax to dry, and at the same time inspecting my masterpiece, making sure that not a single spot had been missed. Satisfaction reeled through my blood, and I could feel an adrenaline high coming on.

Stage two commenced. Starting from the back of the Euro, I centered my palm onto the sponge, and began polishing the wax off. The first ten minutes were a rush. Nothing could stop my arms from circling the sweet bloody body of the Euro.

I went all around her till a showroom shine emerged on all four sides. Standing tall, I gazed at the beauty that was before me. There was still the hood and top left untouched. An hour had passed. Refusing to be defeated, and driven by the ecstatic thought of how the Euro would look, I pressed on. My arms ached, and I now only wore a fusion of my T and skin. I moved on to the tyres, and gave them a shine that my army boots would never even taste.

I felt a fever running through me, having accomplished this onerous challenge, and more so because I got a positive feedback from Dad, the owner of the Euro. I whispered within me, "Now who the man..."

A couple of hours later, I went to NUS with TeRence for a game of footy. There we played against a team whose players were at least two years younger, and definitely much fitter. In fact, the comparison was nonexistent. One team had fitness, the other none. Enough said.

However, we managed to hold them for quite a while, or so it still seems to be. When they finally scored, one of them screamed, "Come on! Nice shot!" Nothing perculiar about being charged up. However, in my opinion, he was overly enthusiastic during the game. Ok, I'm being too nice. He was a wanker.

It just got me thinking. We're having a nice Saturday afternoon game of footy, just trying to enjoy ourselves, playing hard but at the same time keeping a sense of sportsmanship, but this dude just didn't get it. Does the fever overwhelm us so, that we cannot even have the decency to be friendly while playing a friendly game of footy? Trash talking is fine if it's competitive, but I feel that it has no place in a game of such inconsequence. Sure, we all want to win, but winning as a wanker is just beyond my understanding.

I really wonder what drives people like that. Am I being too laid back? Or are they overzealous? A matter of perspective. Maybe it's me who's lacking the competitive spirit, but I will never be able to find out, because I'll never be a wanker who takes a friendly game too far. I hope that future games will be a better experience.

Till next time, goodbye world.

posted by Da Buffalo! @ 2:56 AM