We are the Beach Boys

I spent the Christmas period watching Beach Boys and reading Murakami’s Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman.

Beach Boys is one of the classics. Some people claim that it has no plot at all. I would say it is a philosophical muse during the summer vacation. Watching it makes you think about life, and makes you yearn for summer and the ocean.

“I think I am lucky to be born in a place where summer comes. Because I feel that summertime is a special time to be alive”-Makoto

Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman is another philosophical muse. More for winter, autumn though. My favourite stories in it are: The Ice Man, The Year of Spaghetti, A ‘Poor Aunt’ Story, the Seventh Man and Shinagawa Monkey.

2 quotes:

Sometimes we don’t need words. Rather, it’s words that need us. If we were no longer here, words would lose their whole function. Don’t you think so? They would end up as words that are never spoken, and words that aren’t spoken are no longer words. -Where I’m likely to find it

Can you imagine how astonished the Italians would be if they knew that what they were exporting in 1971 was really loneliness? - The Year of Spaghetti

Anyway, this collection of short stories is also interesting in that some of the stories would later form the basis of his later novels. Continuation, completion of a cycle, whatever you call it…

I guess sometimes, we are just trying to complete a very grand picture. So at this time, we would be working on this corner, another time at the other corner, and somehow, sometime we will join them up, and behold, the masterpiece!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NHPkn2S8yw0

Last thoughts of 2008

The Year in Review

Two years. Two years of waiting. Waiting, waiting and waiting. I felt humbled when I finally reached Cologne. It was like seeing something bear fruit at last.

Language classes came and went. It turned out that I would have a totally different experience from my brother and friends, be it in Germany or Japan. My classmates were mainly people with commitments, not students. When I hear about other friends' experiences elsewhere, when I look back on it, I can only feel resigned. There was fun, but at the end of the day, I couldn't do anything more.

I travelled a bit, sometimes alone. St Gallen, Zurich, Holland, Belgium, Madrid, Toledo, Barcelona, Copenhagen, Oslo, Bergen, Bremen, Hamburg, Hannover, Kiel, Lübeck.

If you have to go alone, you go alone.

In the meantime, a season which had promised so much ended in disappointment. Arsenal finished third, despite playing brilliant football, despite leading the league for much of the season.

I was there, when Wesley Sneijder finished that wonderful move against Italy. Corner cleared, ball swept all the way into space for van Bronckhorst, a cross to Kuyt at the far post who headed it into Sneijder's path, and he acrobatically lunged to knock it past Buffon. To me, it was the goal of the tournament. It was the kind of goal I dream of. That incisiveness. Bang, bang, goal.

There were to be many goals from the Oranje. I really felt it was going to be our year at last.

But I was also there when they didn't even show up against Russia. I was the only one in the entire pub not supporting Russia. That was in Lubeck. I sat through the whole game, numb. At the end of it, I felt so sorry for van der Sar and Sneijder, because they were the only two who were fighting till the end.

I was back in Cologne for the final- Germany against Spain. The atmosphere was crazy. To be honest, I was glad Spain won, because they were the best team of the tournament.

In the meantime, Justine Henin also retired from tennis. I never understood the full impact of that until I watched the French Open, without Justine Henin. It was just emptiness. Nothingness. It's simply not the same.

Then, it was time to move to Munich. At one point in time, I didn't like Cologne. But looking back, living in Ehrenfeld was very nice. I remember the hospital I would pass by on my way to the station, the Imbiss, the Eis-café, Maifeld, my place. The day it snowed right after Easter, Hohenzollern Bridge, Sweet Sushi…

At the end of it, I realized that things may change, but the memories of the people who once lived there will always remain.

July was when I moved to Munich. I spent about 4 days getting everything in order before flying back to Singapore. I went back because there were things to be done. There were things that I didn't properly handle when I left the first time round. When God gives you a second chance, you have to take it.

Going back made me realize that all things come to an end.

Then August, industrial attachment. I was relieved when it was over. Autumn in Zagreb. The place grew on me, and I felt as though I had lived there forever. Then Brussels again. But before that, Cologne again. I walked from the language school at Hansaring back to Hauffstrasse 7. I didn't manage to do all the things I wanted to, because there was too little time. But I did what I could.

Brussels was much nicer this time round.

I enjoyed Oktoberfest, but deep down inside, I knew something was lacking.

Then uni started. I actually felt excited to go to school. Maybe when you haven't done something in a while, you treasure it more. Thursday dinners with the floormates, dinners with Singaporeans, parties, school, ice-skating in Heidelberg.

Meanwhile on the football side of life, everything that could go wrong went wrong for Arsenal. I even took a break from football. Absolutely nothing to do with football for 7 days. I wanted to stay away till the new year, but 7 days was all it lasted. Actually, I was surprised it even lasted 7 days.

I went to Aschheim to watch Bayern play Duisburg, women's football. I took a 20-minute S-Bahn ride, seeing sides of Munich I have never seen before, then walked 20 minutes to get to the small stadium. The rain was relentless. As I stood there in the rain, 5 meters away from the action, memories came flooding back. Something has always haunted me. Even now, it still does.

Bayern lost on penalties. Julia Simic didn't take a penalty.

But who was I, to criticize her? I didn't back many people up. I didn't back my brother up at that restaurant. When that waitress spilt my Pina Colada over me in Cologne, I wanted to tell her not to be afraid, not to be scarred. But I didn't. I wasn't there to stand up for people when they needed me most. As I walked back to the station in the cold, I asked myself why didn't she take the last penalty but left it to the 16-year-old to take it. I knew the answer, but I didn't want to accept it: she was afraid. We were both afraid. We were both afraid to take the responsibility if we fail. We let others take that responsibility. We looked for excuses. We ran away, we took the easy way out.

Did you back someone up, or did you just let him fall?

Before I know it, Christmas is just around the corner, with 2009 not far behind.

I didn't want Christmas to come, because it is like the referee blowing the whistle when you want advantage to be played, like the referee blowing for full-time when you are in the ascendancy, chasing a result.

Timing, timing, timing.

You can choose to wallow in your self-pity or you can choose to show some guts and fight.

What I realized is that despite everything, you have to play on: Get up, get up, get up! Get up and fight! Heads up!

I was at the Hauptbahnhof. People were coming and going. I stood there, the only constant. And I wondered if I will ever see some people again. The waitress at BentoBox where I frequent; Sunday was her last day. Munich, a city of one million people- will I ever see her again? It's a miracle to be talking to a particular someone out of a million people, isn't it? Out of a million people, miraculous. And I also wonder what the place will be like without her.

And as the year comes to an end, there are disappointments, there are frustrations.

But we will win, my friends. We will win.

Stories

I wrote many stories in 2008, though not more than in 2007. Some were very important on a personal level, some were not satisfying. But I achieved my target of one per month. I was looking through what I have written, and have streamlined the list down to 13, the 13 most significant stories.

101 Steps (January)

101 Steps came about because I told my brother I could write a story if he would give me the first line, and "It snowed today, on the anniversary of his death" was what he gave me.

Memories (February)

Memories is dedicated to Cologne, retrospectively.

A Journey (March)

A Journey was inspired by my encounter with a Swiss lady on my way back from Switzerland, as well as someone who told me about the carving she made once upon a time on Hohenzollern Bridge with someone. I did go and try to look for it, but I couldn't. In the process, I realized the power of memories.

Blue Rose (April)

Blue Rose is dedicated to Candice; we were talking about green eyes and blue roses.

Leave (April)

Leave is a story that means a lot to me, because I was trying to capture the feelings of leaving, as well as to a certain extent the collapse of a circle of friends.

That Song (June)

That Song is inspired by Barcelona and Proposal Daisakusen. "Almost here", "What really happened?" are the thoughts behind it.

Happy Birthday (August)

Is dedicated to myself.

The Balcony (August)

The Balcony is dedicated to my ex-neighbour Lily. She would sit on the balcony and smoke, and we would talk. The day I got back from Brussels, I opened the door to the balcony to find her chair gone. My new neighbor is a guy who keeps to himself. The weather is also too cold to linger on the balcony. But I miss those days.

Those Emerald Eyes (August)

I finally realized many old ideas with this piece. And obviously, I am still haunted by those emerald eyes. It is also partly inspired by my last hours in Cologne, the people I saw.

Somewhere Out There (August)

This is dedicated to Jill, who wanted a happy story for her birthday. It was actually very difficult, because I never write happy stuff.

Mari Selieni (October)

Mari Seliani is a story about being condemned to wander. The protagonist appears to be the Giovanni from That Song and Happy Birthday. I was trying to fill in a little bit more of Giovanni and Claire's story.

Friends (November)

Dedicated to people with friends. It was emotionally draining for me to write this. After I finished it, the line "Team, Janaz, what happened to your team" was stuck in my head for days.

24 Hours (December)

There were bits of Munich, Cologne, Zagreb, Heidelberg in it. It is a story about reconciliation and redemption.

To the people who have read my stories, thanks bunches. Just one more request- tell me which one is your favourite. It somehow means a lot to me to know.

24 Hours

She had been standing outside in the cold for a while now, looking a little dreamily at the signboard of our pub. I stacked the chair onto the table and walked out.

"Hallo, can I help you? We are unfortunately closing, but if you are lost and need directions or something, I will be glad to be of assistance."

My words seemed to have jolted her back to reality. She looked at me and smiled, rather absent-mindedly. Still, she didn't say a word.

"Hallo?"

She smiled, shook her head, and started to walk away. I shrugged and started to make my way in again. Suddenly she turned and called out, "Will you be free later?"

"What?"

"I mean after you are done with the packing up…will you be free? It's Saturday right, so there are no lessons…I mean of course you would be tired and want to catch up on sleep…but could you give me just one day of your life…24 hours."

I didn't know if I was more surprised by her request or by the fact that she spoke so much.

Having received no reply, she ventured, "Please?"

I found myself nodding.

She smiled, "I will be waiting here then."

I went back into the pub.

"That's a pretty girl," my colleague nudged me and pointed outside. That was when I realized she was. "What does she want?"

I didn't reply to that, but finished packing up, and announced that I was leaving.

As I stepped out into the cold, she was checking her watch. She smiled as I stopped beside her. "5 in the morning…are you hungry?"

I realized I was, and nodded.

"Is there any place around here that still sells food at this hour?"

"There's an Imbiss around the corner. Doener," I replied.

"Let's go," she said excitedly.

I got us two Doener, and handed one to her. We sat at the tram-stop, eating Doener. She swung her legs a bit as she ate, again with a dreamy expression on her face. "It's the best thing in the world, isn't it? Eating something warm at 5 in the morning, after work, or after partying."

That's true.

"So, why are you here at this hour? Were you at some party or something?" I asked.

She shook her head. And I realized I didn't even know her name.

"What's your name?"

"Alexandra. But you can call me Alex for short."

"Ok, Alex. I am…"

"Florian."

"How did you know?"

"That's a secret."

And she smiled, before turning back to her Doener. I knew I wasn't going to get an answer from her, so I finished up the remaining bit of mine.

"So, what are we going to do next?"

I shrugged. 6 in the morning, not much one can do, even in a city like this.

"Let's go see the sunrise," she said excitedly.

"It's still 2 hours or so away," I reminded her.

"Oh," she fell silent. "But we can start looking for a nice place to watch it from…somewhere high."

I thought for a while. "I think I know a place."

She smiled.

The place I had in mind was the bridge. We could start from one end of it and walk right to the middle, and there would be the sun, gently awakening from her slumber, slowly turning the blue of the river into red, and then gold.

That was exactly what we did.

"Amazing," I heard her say under her breath. She turned to me, "Do you do this often? I mean, you know bring your girlfriend to this bridge to watch the sunrise?"

"I don't have a girlfriend."

"That's true," she said matter-of-factly and turned back to admire the view.

We made our way back to the inner city. People were starting to fill the streets: families with young children in tow, lovers ranging from teenagers to adults to grandparents.

"Last-minute Christmas shopping," I casually remarked.

She didn't seem to have heard me. Instead, she suddenly dashed forward to a window display. I followed behind. Chocolates. I caught her smile in the reflection.

"I wonder how it tastes like," she said, still fixated on the exquisite chocolates on display.

"You have never ever eaten Giovanna's chocolates?" I asked, somewhat incredulously. Giovanna's can be considered to be an institution here: hand-made chocolates steeped in tradition, passed down from one generation to the next; the shop we were standing in front of was the one and only in the city. The entire world, I should say.

She shook her head.

"Where are you from, anyway?" I suddenly realized that she might not have come from this city.

She smiled, "Here."

"Wait," I said, and entered the shop, reappearing later with a box, which I duly opened and passed to her. Her eyes lit up. She took one, and bit into it, closing her eyes as she savored it. She nodded and gave a thumbs-up sign.

We walked on. She looked around at everything, somewhat wide-eyed…which was strange, because having come from here, and having lived here for the whole of my life, I was already used to the sights; I wouldn't be walking around looking as though I was in a foreign city.

She pointed to the small clock tower to the side of the main square. "Is that what people mean, when they say 'by the clock'?"

I looked at her strangely. "Yeah."

She smiled, "It is kind of minimalist, and doesn't really fit the surroundings, with all the grand buildings all around."

"And that must be the old townhouse, with that nice restaurant…"

She continued on her way. I highly doubted that she came from this city. I even doubted if she was living here. Yet she seemed to somehow know the place well, just in a different way.

"I am hungry," she suddenly announced, stopping in the middle of the crowded main street of the pedestrian zone.

Unknowingly, it was already close to one.

"Can you bring me to brunch at Kathilein's?"

That was a good choice. Tucked away in a side alley, Kathilein's is the best place in town for brunch. Small, cozy with excellent food frequented by locals, it is one of those places free from photo-snapping tourists.

I duly brought her there, although I found it funny that she as an inhabitant here did not know where it was. But then again, everything that had happened since 5 a.m. in the morning was beyond my comprehension.

We had to settle for a place in the inner courtyard because the place was already full. The waitress brought us blankets, although it wasn't all that cold, thanks to the heaters that dot the courtyard. Brunch was buffet-style, so she left us after telling us that she would be just inside if we need anything.

I felt a little embarrassed, because Alex was behaving as though she was totally ignorant, had just come from the countryside, or worse- from outer space. She was behaving as though she was seeing everything for the first time in her life. Brunches couldn't be all that different, right?

I was relieved as we were finally done. As I called for the waitress to bring us the bill, Alex told me that she didn't have any money with her. I realized that from morning till now, I had been the one paying for everything.

"Not a single cent?"

She shook her head.

I couldn't believe my luck. I checked my wallet- I didn't have enough for two. By this time, the waitress was here. I sheepishly told her that I needed to go draw some money. She smiled and nodded as she left us again. Alex smiled widely at her. That was when I realized there was some sort of resemblance between them. Anyhow, I quickly went to the nearest automat, came back and made the payment.

"Thanks for the treat," Alex said as we leave Kathilein's.

"You are welcome," I said subdued.

"I would like to see the Christmas Market," she said.

I was already used to her requests. "It's right ahead."

We came to the first of the stalls.

"Pretty!" she exclaimed.

We walked around the stalls, squeezing past the people milling about.

"It isn't so large-scale anymore."

"What?"

She didn't repeat herself, instead wandered off to a stand selling roasted almonds. "I remember eating these when I was still a little girl. I would hold the paper cone with both hands because I was afraid I would drop it… I really haven't eaten this in a while."

"Young lady, how about some roasted almonds?" the owner, a big fat man asked in a gruff but grandfatherly voice.

She smiled and looked at me. I bought her a packet. She ate the almonds happily as we continued on our way.

She suddenly stopped. This time, her attention was on the circular stand selling sausages. There was a giant grill right in the center, and customers would gather around it, behind the counter of course. The vendors would be busy flipping the sausages on the grill, occasionally adding in more charcoal.

"They don't do it like this anymore…not with a real fire…"

What did she mean? I looked at the fire in the middle. This was the only way I knew.

She walked on ahead again, and I had to catch up.

We finally came to the ice-skating rink. We stood by the side, leaning against the railing as we watch the action on the rink. A girl of about 12 was skating in the middle of the rink. She was elegant to watch; it was as though she was born to ice-skate. Her movement was just so natural. She finished her routine and gave a little curtsy in the direction of a man, her father, watching by the rink like us, and they laughed. She was a born performer.
“Bravo!” the man called out. She skated over to him and he patted her on the head.

Alex was strangely quiet. She was looking at the father-daughter pair as well. She smiled slightly; I thought I saw a tear. She turned to me and smiled; I looked away.

"There is one more place I would like to go."

"Uh-huh."

We found ourselves at Riverfront, the warehouse at the riverbank that had been converted to a club. There was a gig tonight, which she wanted to watch. It was a band called Vanille. One of those indie bands, I supposed. They hadn't come on when we entered. There was a big crowd inside. They started cheering when the band members made their appearances one by one. The loudest cheers were reserved for the vocalist.

I was shocked when I realized it was the waitress from Kathilein's. I stole a glance at Alex. She was applauding very enthusiastically- like seeing a friend on stage.

After getting over my initial surprise, I got myself to just relax, enjoy the gig and simply not think about the bizarre coincidences and incidents in the past 20 hours. The band was really good, that much I had to admit. The vocalist had a special aura about her.

"She's good, isn't she?" Alex asked, her eyes fixated still on the stage.

"Yeah…do you know her?"

Alex nodded without looking at me.

The gig ended and we were one of the last few to leave the place. We stood by the river.

She looked at her watch.

It was 4 in the morning. Almost 24 hours.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for the past 24 hours…it was really very nice. I feel as though I understand a lot of things better. although it may be a little too late."

I dug my hands deeper into my pockets, not knowing what to say.

She took a step towards me and hugged me, burying her face in my shoulder. "I am sorry."

She let go of me and took a step back, wiping her tears. She waved, "Merry Christmas."

"And goodbye," she added, almost as an afterthought.

With that, she turned and disappeared into the mist.

**

"The lives of people in the entertainment business are really in a mess," my friend commented.

"Why?" I asked, looking up from my newspaper.

He gestured to the TV. "And the worse thing is their music. Can you even call that music? Man, I…"

I didn't hear him ramble on. Instead, I listened to the newscast. A young singer had passed away. Drug abuse, stress, failed relationships had all taken a toll on her health in the past year. Hospitalized for the past few months, she had finally succumbed to illness. She was 21.

Listening to the news, you would have believed that her life had indeed been a wreck. Her parents divorced when she was 5, with her mother taking custody of her. Her mother was a singer in a band with minor successes, whose dream was to see her daughter succeed where she had failed. Her daughter was a juvenile delinquent and dropped out of school when she was 16. She was eventually taken on by the producer her mother was seeing. Her debut single was a hit, and she went on to record three successful albums, cementing her status as one of a new generation of pop idols. Although popular, she was also a controversial public figure, decried by many to be a negative influence to younger girls, mainly due to her messy private life. It seemed as though she wasn't the kind who could cope well with the limelight, although one had to admit that the paparazzi could be ruthless too. In any case, things started going wrong, or perhaps had never been right in the first place. To sum it up, she had been fighting a losing battle.

Nevertheless, nurses and doctors said that she passed away with a smile on her face, as though she had finally found peace within herself. Strangely, there was also an empty box of Giovanna's chocolates beside her. Giovanna's had closed down about 20 years ago.

And I remembered that strange incident 25 years ago, when I was still a poor student working my way through university.

They started showing a photo slideshow of the singer as a tribute to her. As I looked at her childhood photos being flashed on the screen, I realized the singer they were talking about, whom I hadn't recognized amidst all the make-up and hair-do, was none other than my daughter, whom I hadn't seen since she was 12. Because I was too old for that sort of music, I didn't realize she had become a star. Because her mother had been hell-bent on severing all ties, I didn't get to see her for the past 9 years.

Whatever excuse I could come up with, one fact remained: I wasn't there for her.

the other day, i was with friends at the christmas market in munich. we were at the ice-skating rink. two teenaged girls were skating, twirling in the middle of the rink, curtsying slightly after each successful manoeuvre...like true performers. they were enjoying themselves.

as i watch them, i can't help but wonder how they will turn out. teenagehood- an age of innocence. what happens after that? will they go on to uni or will they get kicked out of gymnasium to a realschule? will they get a job at a supermarket, or will they work at some seedy establishment?

two people, one city, two different lives?

for the first time in my life, i realise how difficult it can be to be raising a family in a big city. to call it the "perils" would be exaggerating things a little, but the balance between protection and exposure is indeed hard to achieve. and as parents, it is always hard to feel at ease, even without being paranoid.

but what is positive, what is negative? what is good, what is bad? we all have a set of values, but do we really have the right to say that working as this is good, working as that is bad?

the world is that grey, isn't it? i don't have an answer as to what sort of values we should have, but i suppose as long as we are happy like this, as long as we would rather turn out like this, then maybe we should be satisfied with our lot.

on 18 December 2009, i suddenly realise how i have taken so much for granted.

20 songs for 2009

Before you know it, the year is almost over. It almost slipped my mind to come up with the annual list.

1. Ashes and Wine a fine frenzy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yN3VvRzq5h4
you may not believe it, but I was there.

2. Forca nelly furtado
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ChGxIvWscA
“It is the moment you remember you're alive”

3. Forever Love xjapan
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TF2EPftV_eo
Forever love.

4. Lies glen hansard
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vg0zRzoH9MY
“who did you wrote this song for?”
“she’s gone.”
“she’s dead?”
“she’s gone.”

5. 小さな恋のうた mongol 800
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qu5kWHR_Imo&feature=related
such a simple song, yet says so much.

6. Kiseki greeeen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ogEKEAGcCBg
a worthy successor to chiisano koi no uta. That simple sincerity.

7. Friends otsuka ai
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kzoo2tG0dis
“the very first dream you talked of- do you still remember?”-rei

8. Das Beste silbermond
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W5VzwPYpE3Q
Ich sag's dir viel zu selten
es ist schön, dass es dich gibt

9. Gold b’z
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HBz2FkrJUwA
When times are hard, when you need inspiration, listen to this song.

10. Eisai anna vissi
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvrwMONs8Ok
Athens Olympics 2004.

11. However glay
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vMMyugiwQeI
I still can’t get this video out of my mind, because people just started to cry when the music came on.

12. With You lisa and park hyo shin
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0-oD-HHVUo
I still like the mv a lot, a lot.

13. Glamorous Sky nakashima mika
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7xVls3coIoc&feature=related
“Yasu, are you listening?”
“Good evening, we are Blast.”

14. Hitoiro nakashima mika
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbqyINF5EQw&feature=related
the one word to describe Tokyo.

15. Sign mr children
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2bCcHK_5A3M
a song that reminds you of yesteryears.

16. qing tian jay chou
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2ImztgAtiY
still love the cello part in the middle.

17. Bad Day daniel powter
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j7g6LenMQ5E
You sing a sad song just to turn it around.

18. mata aimashou seamo
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NAlavMXPSc
So God, forgive us just for today.

19. Precious yuna ito
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2AUk3IproIs
inoru two of us.

20. Say Anything xjapan
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3esTTUPlJo
good songs survive the test of time.

24 hours ago, i was in heidelberg. you can say i am suffering a little from heidel-withdrawal-symptoms.

heidelberg is a pretty town; i established that the first time round i was there. but it is through this trip that she really grows on me. time alone, time with friends, ice skating, home-cooked food, meals outside; the balance is there.

i can't say that i can really iceskate, but at least i can move around the rink myself, albeit slowly.

if you remember, i once said that running on the field with football boots is like ice-skating. i can finally confirm my hypothesis. there is a similarity. the word to describe it is liberation.

it is kind of special to iceskate for the first time in your life amidst all the pretty buildings of a beautiful town.

alot of pictures are almost perfect. almost, almost perfect.

the difference between a holding midfielder and a playmaker is that a holding midfielder takes care of his team, while the playmaker looks to get the best out of his team. another way of looking at it is that the defensive midfielder builds the foundation, the rest of the team build the house and the playmaker adds the gloss.

players who are brought into the game by the dm and playmaker must justify their presence. if they don't or can't, they have to go.

last shot at redemption

watched the 3rd placing and final of the women u20 world cup last night. something is wrong when you watch 8 games in 6 days.

but anyway, i feel that the third placing game represented a last shot at redemption for the germans, because i felt they played below their potential against usa; it could have been them in the final.

germany fielded what i reckon to be their best, most balanced team:
vetterlein
mirlach schiewe henning baunach
schmidt kulig hegering simic
banecki pollmann

and they promptly raced to a 3-0 lead within 21 minutes or so, courtesy of a marie pollmann hattrick.

while i admire kerchowski's work rate and her overall teamplay, i think at the end of the day, you field a striker to score goals. and that is what pollmann does very well. the second and third goals were pure poaching instincts, that marks her out as an out-and-out striker.

kulig and hegering added steel to the midfield, and simic brought composure and rhythm.

but i also realised why the germans werent in the final. the coach meinert had attributed the two goals conceded against brazil to individual errors, which arent as bad as systemic errors, because they can be corrected on a personal basis. but maybe those are systemic errors.

while i can accept the opponents pulling a goal back when you are 3-0 up, i think the moment you restore that 3goal lead, the game should be over. there should be absolutely no more trace of hope for them. the ball should be stroked around, and you have to give the impression that the next time you go forward, you are going to score. the contest should be over. but instead, the final score was 5-3, and i felt the last 2 France goals could have been better defended.

i think mentally, the germans are not deadly enough.

the final was less of a goal fest. usa won 2-1 and were dominant until they decided to close shop and defend their 2 goal lead, thereby conceding a goal in injury time and ensuring a frantic conclusion to the game.

my team of the tournament would be:
GK: 1.Alyssa Naeher (USA)
safest pair of hands in the tournament. conceded only 1 goal in the tournament.
DL: 4.Josephine Henning (GER)
actually a center-back. i thought she was more steady and better in distribution than the captain carolin schiewe.
DC: 15.Lauren Fowlkes (USA)
rock at the back for the americans
DR: 7.Bianca Schmidt (GER)
started at right mid in the 3rd-placing, switched flanks with julia simic, then got pulled back to right-back. versatile, strong, quick and skilful.
ML: 17.Nora Coton-Pelagie (FRA)
always a potential match-winner. forced the keeper into a superb save with her free-kick in the 3rd-placing. dual-footed with a powerful shot.
MC: 6.Kim Kulig (GER)
striker-turned-all-action-midfielder. tenacious, skilful and an eye for goal.
MC: 14.Keelin Winters (USA)
the captain, has been everywhere for the team.
MR: 10.Eugenie le Sommer (FRA)
france's playmaker. i think she is the most creative player in the tournament. you know what she wants to do, but sometimes her teammates let her down. involved in most of france's goals, and scored 4 herself playing in the hole.
FL: 13.Alex Morgan (USA)
said to be the americans' most talented player. watching her yesterday, i can only agree. a delight to watch on the ball, and doesn't try to do too much.
FC: 19.Sydney Leroux (USA)
tournament top-scorer. plays as a lone striker supported by 2 wingers. usually isolated when usa starts to close shop. but still does well under those circumstances.
FR: 11.Nicole Banecki (GER)
strong, fast and skilful. she isn't a fantastic passer, but her strength and close control usually get her out of trouble.

*julia simic would have been in the team, if she had played more.
*it's nice to see the stars for the german u19 team back in july, pollmann kulig and simic reunite to steer germany to victory.

people come together where there is a vision- tadao ando

the media is biased

i was watching the man u-sunderland game. man u scored in injury time to win 1-0, and the commentators were saying that it is a victory for football because all sunderland did were to sit back and soak up the pressure.

when he said that, i was very very shocked. of course as an arsenal supporter, i was hoping that sunderland could pull off some magic. but i was shocked because while i agreed with his statement that it was a victory for football, i cant help but feel that the media is freaking biased and practise double standards. nobody feels sorry for us when we lose or draw after dominating the entire game. instead, they say we deserve it, because we couldnt finish the opponents off. and when we finally come to realise that it is our own fault and nobody else's, we hear such comments.

nobody backed us up. people only back chelsea, liverpool and man u up. what the hell is that, you idiots?

not that we need their lousy backing. but if you have got any self-respect left, you will show it to them.

show how wrong they are. show that their lousy opinion don't matter at all.

on a brighter note, kashima antlers won 1-0 to be crowned japanese champions, back-to-back. i am proud of them, because they won it for themselves, for the captain mitsuo ogasawara.

champions, back-to-back. well done.

concentration

i watched four games of football so far. something is certainly not right when i am watching so much football. but in any case, if there is one word that can sum it all up, it has to be the above.

the first game was the carling cup tie between arsenal and burnley. did burnley deserve to go through? yes. because we were naive, and because we shut off twice and that was when they scored. to me, the result is a massive disappointment, because most of the young players should know that the carling cup will be their only chance of top-level football unless they are able to secure loan deals elsewhere. and the opponents were burnley. i think it is embarrassing to suffer the same fate as chelsea. i feel really let down because i have basically been made to eat my words. the two most disappointing players were bendtner and randall. the way i see it, bendtner is not going to fulfil his potential. how many chances does he need? with randall, it is really his concentration that gave burnley one of the goals. and he was perhaps the only player who managed to perform poorly against wigan, so that basically summed it up.

then the women u20 world cup in chile. first semi final between france and north korea. france were basically on top for the whole of the game. took a deserved lead through the no17 nora coton-pelagie, who won the quarter-final for them previously, but conceded an equaliser which was really offside. then in the very last second of injury time, a lapse of concetration saw dprk grab the winner. heartbreak at the very end.

the second semi-final was between germany and usa. this game has less to do with concentration. the germans were outplayed in the first half because they were trying to match usa's tempo. in the end, they never got into the game, because it wasnt being played at their rhythm. the goal conceded wasnt a result of a loss of focus. it was the sort of thing that happens when you drill the ball across. credit to the usa for that.

i watch women's football and youth football because i feel that football at these 2 levels has something that football at the highest level has lost. so i am not too impressed by the americans' time-wasting tactics and negativity in the second half, especially when they have a team that can play football. i was hoping that they could be punished for that sort of thinking, but it was not to be.

3 names sum up germany's failure.
1)kim kulig and marina hegering
having to replace your central midfield completely due to injury and suspension is really bad luck. but the choice of personnel was bewildering. against brazil, they played kerchowski, the banecki twins and baunach. it is something like the roma of last season. interchangeability was the key word. basically they were playing with 5 attackers and 1 midfielder(hegering). kulig played as a forward in the u19 in july. so it took me some time to convince myself that she really was playing in center mid. this worked against brazil, so maybe the coach thought it could work against usa, so in place of kulig and hegering, she put in a midfielder nathalie bock and another attacker, the no18. i dunno if she realised it, but the americans pressed the midfield much more than the brazilians, and were much stronger and more organised. and kulig's aggression was missing. so they were run ragged.

2)julia simic
she came on only in the last 15 minutes or so, and that was when germany played their best football. the game was calling for someone to come in and dictate the tempo. and that was what she did. hold the ball, play it to someone, bring another player into the game. i think every midfield needs someone who can pass the ball.

the fourth game was the game between hoffenheim and bayern. if you are in germany, you would have heard alot about hoffenheim's exploits. so i was really eager to finally see them in action for myself. and i was very impressed. i think they are possibly the most exciting german team. fast, direct football. strong, fast, skilful. they play a 4-3-3 that becomes a 4-5-1 in defence, and the moment the ball is won, becomes a 4-3-3 instantaneously. what i mean is that when they are pressing, you can see the attackers pressing as well. but when they clear the ball, you will see three attackers up there with the opposing defenders. they came to munich looking for a win. they played well enough to win it. and in the last minute of injury time, a concetration lapse saw the ball get to luca toni around the penalty spot. he scored, and i felt really sorry for hoffenheim. sometimes, it is really that unfair.

it always seems like we need to show some guts. but when we do, we get slapped in the face like that.

A Fictional (maybe) Story

Some stories end before they have even begun.

I was on my way to class when she appeared in front of me, with a guy I have never seen before. Let me start from the beginning. To say that she is pretty is probably an understatement. Elegant, delicate, exquisite, she is everything but outgoing. She’s always with the same guy, the guy whom I will henceforth name as the guy who is always smiling. Well, if I were him, I would be smiling like that too.

But in any case, they are not together. That much, I have already established.

I could only come up with two possible reasons as to her introversion: one, she is simply shy, especially around guys; two, she is already attached, just that her boyfriend is not in this course. Either of these reasons would explain her wariness of guys, aside from the guy who is always smiling.

I envy him, because this is a girl whom you wouldn’t mind being mistaken as a couple for.

And after a while, you somehow convince yourself, thereby giving yourself false hopes that her introversion is more due to the former rather than the latter.

So as they first appeared before me, I thought the guy was just one of the many constantly seeking her attention. Until their hands touch in that gentle, delicate way, her gentle, delicate way. Until I see her smile, the kind of smile I, or anybody else in the world other than him for that matter, could never hope to be on the receiving end of.

In class, I sat behind them. He sat between her and the guy who is always smiling. He took out nothing, but just sat there. He was simply accompanying her, sitting in her classes, to spend more time with her, to understand her routine a bit more.

All very sweet; something I would have done myself.

A few minutes before the end of the class, she leaned forward and said something to the guy who is always smiling. I knew she was telling him that they were leaving. He held out a hand in acknowledgement. And all the time, the boyfriend sat in between them. He sat between them, between everybody else and her.

And I felt silly for envying him, the guy who is always smiling. It must have been difficult to sit through all that.

My attention went back to the couple, but they were already gone. I sat, rooted to my seat till the class was over.

And so the story is over, not before it has even begun, but after a page.

broken

The hours before leaving a city.

“Do you still remember your first day in this city?”

The crossroad junction. A map in hand, foreign names swirling in my face. Green man. A hurrying girl. A glance back. The middle of the road. That moment.

e lue, e lefe.

One look, one love. That Flenien saying.

Café Raqele. The setting autumn sun down the street. A cod stew. A girl cuddling with a guy. Bliss. Noticing the attention. Stopping. A giggle, another kiss. The smiling waitress.

Say, is there a place where there are only lonely people?

A thoughtful look.

Franzi. Maybe you can try Franziska’s.

Franzi. A name I have almost forgotten.

On the streets again. The chilly wind. Pulling the collars up. Red light. Through the glass. A girl, staring at something else. Maybe a person from her past. Lost in thought. Green light. A distracted nod and smile to her friend’s words.

Getting on my way. Heard a song, right in the middle of the square. A familiar song. Could it be that song from long ago? A startled passerby.

No, this is a new song.

The big screen on the building. An unknown MV, an unknown singer, an unknown title.

Overwhelmed.

Midnight. Bright lights dimming. End of a day. Start of a day. Never made it to Franzi.

“You are ok now, aren’t you?”

A half-finished latte macchiato, an empty seat.

So, this is goodbye.