Jonathan Lim's Contributor Profile - Associated Content
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Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Goal
I know how my mind works. I know my limitations. I didn’t pass every test. I didn’t win every competition. I am neither a scholar nor a champion athlete. What else could I have been? Maybe, you don’t really know what I think. This goes beyond dreaming. I can do this. I think it, now. That means it’s close.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
A Season of Swim
The loss to ARMY was indeed a setback. All the while we had been playing not to loose, rather then playing to win. Seeded sixth out of seven teams, all we really had to do was come in, next to last, to retain our sponsors for at least another year. I think there in lies the problem.
Army was not even an affiliate team, a rag tag bunch of army marines sent out to compete in our annual gala swimming sports event for the first time in a decade. There was really no credential that they could lay claim to. Us on the other hand, we were an established swimming club, with over fifty years of heritage and history; many decorated swimmers and water polo players, some of which have gone on to compete in the South East Asian Games. Prior to the 2001 games, the team had been disbanded for 6 years up to the point of resurgence. We were experiencing a dip in form of our water polo program, and a lack of interest.
I was sitting up in the rafters watching the conclusion of the Penang Vs Kuala Lumpur match. The top two seeds in the group went at each other for the full twenty-eight minutes of ferocious competition. Exchanging blows and exchanging goals as the match went on. Deadlocked for the entirity of the contest, the only time any advantage could be distinguished between the two sides was when one team responded with a goal or a spark of genius by an individual. All this being said, the teams were an evenly matched pair of chess players, where by the victor would only be decided by a piece of cunning or shrewd play. Ball grabbing and elbows to the face were the norm on such occasions.
As soon as the whistle sounded I watched my players walk out from the changing room, rolling their arms as if in unison. If there was any salvation for what was to come, it would be that we were a team, proud and bold enough to stand with our heads held high, even after a heart-wrenching defeat. It was at this point that I overheard two of my senior players conversing. The conversation inadvertently found fault in my prior comment about unity. Perhaps, a realistic opinion by one, perhaps, the right attitude by the other. The truth, indeed lay in the subtext of the conversation - between the two old timers - and I feel, neither point of view or approach to the situation provided a resounding overview or solution for the situation.
The pool is indeed a place for titans, and one day everyone is going to realize that. As the team begins to stretch their already limber bodies, the older of the two cousins - of whom I overheard speaking - motions to the other to go easy on the youngsters for the time being. Once again, I overhear the younger of the two gesture his distaste.
"That is exactly the kind of attitude that keeps them complacent at tournaments. Come on boys, let's take this one!"
"Take it easy! No one here has any aspirations for us tired, warn out, second hand swimmers, much less these kids."
"I still want to win. And I want them to take on after us after we are gone."
"Listen. These kids need time to learn and mature. Coach is not going to throw them into the deep end before they even mature as swimmers."
"All I saying is that we have at least eight guys here with a wealth of experience. We can take Melaka, if we just... arghhhh!!!"
"What ever it is, just take it easy on the juniors for now. Coach does not want them peaking too early."
So with that I step down from the rafters and make way to impart tactical commands for my captain. I let that conversation go on for a little, not so much out of curiosity, but because Alex and John will never be able to have that conversation again once this tournament is over. Their apotheosis has happened, and if anything we are simply riding on their glory days to acquire sponsorship. I understand also, that if I had stepped down a few minutes earlier that frustration would have remained pent up. Let's just say a coach knows his players better than they know themselves.
Many a time I have spoken to John about his aspirations for glory. He is a washed up swimmer if I ever knew one. He is still trying to get his gold, attain his glory. But the truth is he has always been too small to be a champion. At 136 lbs and standing at only 5'7", he often found himself competing with people who had six inches and 50-80 lbs of muscle on him. The boy has spirit. I will give him that. The rest shall be our little secret.
We were about to take the pool for our match with Melaka.
(insert match description here)
We lost our remaining two games to Perak and Penang, placing us at the very bottom of the seven team table format. I felt there was hope for Selangor Waterpolo, not for the old-timers but definitely for juniors. You see, the choice to be a player or a swimmer is made while you are still young, fourteen years of age is the best time to make a switch, if that is what the water-junkies wish. After the match I notice John walk off into the changing room by himself. The rest of the eight man rotation hang around and console the youths, knowing full well that they did not need it. All in all I know everyone except John had a good time competiting. For the seniors, affording them a chance to relive thier former guile was enough. For the under 18s, the exposure and experience was enough.
A former swimmer, turned army marine, turned waterpolo coach, who after coaching a team in the 1970s to S.E.A Games gold, had gone into hiding, appeared at our gala at the end of the tournament with new sponsors and belief in my youngsters. They went on to win bronze the following year, and gold three years after that. I went back to coaching our swimmers and left the reigns to the new waterpolo coach, Kee Swee Ming.We may have finished in last place in 2001, but our initiative paid off.
Army was not even an affiliate team, a rag tag bunch of army marines sent out to compete in our annual gala swimming sports event for the first time in a decade. There was really no credential that they could lay claim to. Us on the other hand, we were an established swimming club, with over fifty years of heritage and history; many decorated swimmers and water polo players, some of which have gone on to compete in the South East Asian Games. Prior to the 2001 games, the team had been disbanded for 6 years up to the point of resurgence. We were experiencing a dip in form of our water polo program, and a lack of interest.
I was sitting up in the rafters watching the conclusion of the Penang Vs Kuala Lumpur match. The top two seeds in the group went at each other for the full twenty-eight minutes of ferocious competition. Exchanging blows and exchanging goals as the match went on. Deadlocked for the entirity of the contest, the only time any advantage could be distinguished between the two sides was when one team responded with a goal or a spark of genius by an individual. All this being said, the teams were an evenly matched pair of chess players, where by the victor would only be decided by a piece of cunning or shrewd play. Ball grabbing and elbows to the face were the norm on such occasions.
As soon as the whistle sounded I watched my players walk out from the changing room, rolling their arms as if in unison. If there was any salvation for what was to come, it would be that we were a team, proud and bold enough to stand with our heads held high, even after a heart-wrenching defeat. It was at this point that I overheard two of my senior players conversing. The conversation inadvertently found fault in my prior comment about unity. Perhaps, a realistic opinion by one, perhaps, the right attitude by the other. The truth, indeed lay in the subtext of the conversation - between the two old timers - and I feel, neither point of view or approach to the situation provided a resounding overview or solution for the situation.
The pool is indeed a place for titans, and one day everyone is going to realize that. As the team begins to stretch their already limber bodies, the older of the two cousins - of whom I overheard speaking - motions to the other to go easy on the youngsters for the time being. Once again, I overhear the younger of the two gesture his distaste.
"That is exactly the kind of attitude that keeps them complacent at tournaments. Come on boys, let's take this one!"
"Take it easy! No one here has any aspirations for us tired, warn out, second hand swimmers, much less these kids."
"I still want to win. And I want them to take on after us after we are gone."
"Listen. These kids need time to learn and mature. Coach is not going to throw them into the deep end before they even mature as swimmers."
"All I saying is that we have at least eight guys here with a wealth of experience. We can take Melaka, if we just... arghhhh!!!"
"What ever it is, just take it easy on the juniors for now. Coach does not want them peaking too early."
So with that I step down from the rafters and make way to impart tactical commands for my captain. I let that conversation go on for a little, not so much out of curiosity, but because Alex and John will never be able to have that conversation again once this tournament is over. Their apotheosis has happened, and if anything we are simply riding on their glory days to acquire sponsorship. I understand also, that if I had stepped down a few minutes earlier that frustration would have remained pent up. Let's just say a coach knows his players better than they know themselves.
Many a time I have spoken to John about his aspirations for glory. He is a washed up swimmer if I ever knew one. He is still trying to get his gold, attain his glory. But the truth is he has always been too small to be a champion. At 136 lbs and standing at only 5'7", he often found himself competing with people who had six inches and 50-80 lbs of muscle on him. The boy has spirit. I will give him that. The rest shall be our little secret.
We were about to take the pool for our match with Melaka.
We lost our remaining two games to Perak and Penang, placing us at the very bottom of the seven team table format. I felt there was hope for Selangor Waterpolo, not for the old-timers but definitely for juniors. You see, the choice to be a player or a swimmer is made while you are still young, fourteen years of age is the best time to make a switch, if that is what the water-junkies wish. After the match I notice John walk off into the changing room by himself. The rest of the eight man rotation hang around and console the youths, knowing full well that they did not need it. All in all I know everyone except John had a good time competiting. For the seniors, affording them a chance to relive thier former guile was enough. For the under 18s, the exposure and experience was enough.
A former swimmer, turned army marine, turned waterpolo coach, who after coaching a team in the 1970s to S.E.A Games gold, had gone into hiding, appeared at our gala at the end of the tournament with new sponsors and belief in my youngsters. They went on to win bronze the following year, and gold three years after that. I went back to coaching our swimmers and left the reigns to the new waterpolo coach, Kee Swee Ming.We may have finished in last place in 2001, but our initiative paid off.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Perfect Pictures
We made plans to elope.
There were perfect pictures of all those stories that I told.
She said she would never behold the photgraphs I put in
her mind, unless I told her to.
They are meant to inspire, not remind us of a destination.
There were perfect pictures of all those stories that I told.
She said she would never behold the photgraphs I put in
her mind, unless I told her to.
They are meant to inspire, not remind us of a destination.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Margerette says she wants her boyfriend right here!
When I am on my coffee break on monday morning, I want to think back at the conversation we had the weekend about tea leaves. This may not be much to you but these are the things that make my life worthwhile. I want to have those conversations on the weekend. Even if they are as inane as they seem. I want them!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Anguish
About a simple girl who had simple ideas about how to live her life, decides that she will follow around an angry anti capitalist in hopes of never letting him get into too much trouble. To the public her boyfriend is a juvenile and a deliquent, but to her he is just misunderstood, but also perhaps a little too anarchaic. She initially attempts to change his perspective his anti capitalist views but he is stuborn and will not buy into any of it. She spends her time trying to keep him out of trouble. He already has two strikes and a third will mean that he has to spend time in juve prison. theme is naivety. how far will she go to protect and how far will her resolve be pushed. The title refers to her constant state of anguish in which she finds solace. She pleads with Tomak, telling her that she is happy this way. but he is so resistent of the fact that she seems to be in perpetual anguish.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Catholic self loathing
What if I just wanted to be left alone, so as to figure out what I really wanted? I've done it all now and I don't think I am closer to finding that thing. I guess I could have had anything I wanted, and all I needed to appreciate all of it was to take the bagage that comes with it. So, just to recap, I enjoyed it all but with out having to work for any of it, and at the same time I didn't have to take the baggage that went along with it. The baggage is what is important. It makes drinking a beer all the more refreshing, for what weight would you be washing away, if you had no baggage? You got to take all the stuff and lug it around in a suitcase that has no wheels, one from the 1980's, which you dragged round on a leash and unflexible wheels, ones which afforded you no mobility. They just went straight. I remember them.
I never really thought that the first thing I would need to learn in life is that I am just a man. The thing is, I was just a boy. Who was it that was supposed to tell me, to teach me how to live? I got all the wrong answers and there is no one to blame but... well, someone should take the blame for it. I hate this life, and I want out!
Maybe, you can distract me long enough to find my feet. Let me start over, give me a new life, rejuvenate my youth. Let me live my own life!
"Dammit!!!"
He starts to scribble away at the piece of paper, of which he had started writing this letter. Being away from home for so long proved to be less that affable. Still, there was no comfort in anything anymore, except the friends that he had, and they were there for him too. That's where these letters went, to friends scattered all over the country.
Damien is a catholic, and though he tells people he feels the eternal guilt of a man left to ponder his own demise, the truth is that he can't bring himself to commit suicide for the sheer cliche that it is and how passe the aftermath would evidently become. Blasse!
I never really thought that the first thing I would need to learn in life is that I am just a man. The thing is, I was just a boy. Who was it that was supposed to tell me, to teach me how to live? I got all the wrong answers and there is no one to blame but... well, someone should take the blame for it. I hate this life, and I want out!
Maybe, you can distract me long enough to find my feet. Let me start over, give me a new life, rejuvenate my youth. Let me live my own life!
"Dammit!!!"
He starts to scribble away at the piece of paper, of which he had started writing this letter. Being away from home for so long proved to be less that affable. Still, there was no comfort in anything anymore, except the friends that he had, and they were there for him too. That's where these letters went, to friends scattered all over the country.
Damien is a catholic, and though he tells people he feels the eternal guilt of a man left to ponder his own demise, the truth is that he can't bring himself to commit suicide for the sheer cliche that it is and how passe the aftermath would evidently become. Blasse!
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