Already exhausted from a long day of work and martial arts practice, I forced myself to tackle my Business online MCQ. My struggle took me three hours. From 10.30pm to 1.30am, I flipped through my course notes, Googled, and resorted to guesswork. My eyes hurt from the glare and I felt Enkish, but I pulled through and my reward was to learn that I survived the quiz. This was surely a sign of my tremendous mental strength. I strongly feel that most of my full-time counterparts in NUS, NTU and SMU cannot hold a candle to me in terms of mental fortitude. If I had the luxury of doing a full-time degree, I would have been challenging for First Class Honours every season.
With barely an hour of rest I woke up and watched the Champions League tie between Barcelona and the Arse. The football Barcelona produced was breathtaking. Their intricate passing and movement off the ball made the Arse look like some obscure South-East Asian club. It was like watching a team of Zidanes. World class, delicious, and irresistible.
Although diminutive in frame, Lionel Messi stood head and shoulders even above even this esteemed group. He was unstoppable on the night, weaving in and out of the hapless Arse defence with such poise he seemed like a mirage in the desert. His four brilliantly taken goals propelled him into history, and as he joined his teammates in celebration after the final whistle, the Nou Camp saluted him as one. And didn’t he deserve it.
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