Ping! Pong!

It isn't everyday Singaporeans flock at whim to contest in table tennis, or any other sports at all, in a manner of confession. Hell, the lifestyle here sings of the extravagant luxury of food, or to be blunt, eating. Though we are picked to the bone, to work like our island's buoyancy depends on it. We are positively drowning in fatigue over here, hello? Then again, I might be nailing onto something here whilst I digress. Then again, again, that's always how I start off, no?

Even the blue moon has never risen over sports being a normal professional rice bowl, yet, ours is a state quite handsomely dressed in the grandeur of contemporary sporting embellishments. Painstakingly blessed by a not-so-regular client of mine, Lady Luck, a familiar acquaintance invited me over to my former residence for some good old bouts of table tennis. 

How I had hankered after an opportunity like this to re-connect myself with the sport. I desired the cries of victory, though most of the time they were in the form of sighs of relief. I miss the occasional comedic instances when the elusive plastic ball would, ever so coincidentally, hit us where it hurt the worst, and how we boldly enacted and experimented with all kinds of unorthodox shots. In the events that they did accidentally score us legitimate points, the frozen expression on our opponents' faces