Dalam Kepalaku Ada Ini

So, How Is My Summer So Far?

2009-07-05T19:14:00.006+08:00

You tell me.

Train Wreck

2009-06-17T12:35:00.003+08:00

Reality can be surreal, but favorite people makes even the hardest of waves a smooth sailing.

That is why to see them heartbroken can easily break mine as well.

God, I will hold the anguished pieces together, and will be stronger than ever - stronger than them.

Uphill task it is, I know, for they are strongest lot I know.

God, I love them so much, more than I love myself.

Bless us, please. Bless them, please.

Lonely Planet: Amsterdam & Brussels

2009-06-08T02:19:00.024+08:00

Life after exams was so eventful, and still is when I am writing. Filling a huge space I left between days of books and assignments, and days full of doing nothing, I thought a good way of doing it is set my injured knee to some place I haven't been to.

Thanks to Ah Thong and Ammar, I raised enough money and didn't eat enough proper meals to fly the three of us to Amsterdam and Brussels last week. Having finished his exams a million year ago and unexpectedly flew his way to Britain (I thought it was one of his infamous practical joke), both of them said why not to the thing that 10 years ago was one of my not keen to do, traveling.

Ah Thong and Ammar? Random people I met some years ago in Kuala Kangsar who turned out to be good friends.

Life on the road is so much easier if you know what you need and at least a little about where are you going, what are doing, how you will get there, where you can stay and most importantly, how you will get the moolah to get you a plane, a bus, a ship or whatever. So I guess the hardest part of it was planning.

Ah Thong lives 3 hours away from my place by train and 6 by bus. He came to my place on a weekend to plan and few minutes telling Ammar it was done. It was the time when he was given an exclusive tour to the real British adventure, after being a Londoner for two years. I don't think he fancied it - after a cup of frappucino and few more intimidating demeanor, he started to miss London back again. Typical city boy.

Anyway, we did the planning over The Usual Suspects and Starsky and Hutch, and the plan looked pretty on paper as we sent the itinerary to Ammar few thousands miles away in Minnesota.

Minnesota Timberwolves, the only Minnesotan thing I know, apart from knowing a friend lives and studies there. Many thanks to NBA Live.

It was a usual morning full of anxiety when Ammar texted me few hours before I sat for my final paper. He thought he was stranded, only to know Ah Thong was on the tube to Heathrow to fetch him up.

The first thing I did after exams was to pack my stuff and head for London for a pound. Yes, one fucking pound, thanks to National Express ridiculous summer deal. But life is not a fairy tale, as one pound equals to six hours of back pain and maddening inability to recline your seat.

We watched the Champions League final at a kebab shop in London. Ah Thong, an ex-atheist, converted himself to a Gunner, Ammar is a so-called hardcore Blue and I am not a Devil. So basically, we were Barca fans.

I thought Londoners are either Arsenal or Chelsea fans, but when Samuel Eto'o ran past Vidic to nudge an opener for Barca, we were the only three in the shop to celebrate. Let me remind you, football is more than life and death here, so we better behave ourself if Barca scored again (which they did in the second half).

Barca were clearly the better team and United looked like a kid joshed before going home crying. Messi, Xavi and Iniesta were the tallest men on the pitch that night.

We needed to get a good rest, so we let the Devils cry as we were heading east tomorrow. As for Ah Thong, he needed to do some packing.

Have I told you I enjoy packing? Some people find packing a hassle, a huge drag, and almost the reason to spoil the fun of going places. That is when you felt like you have lots of stuff to bring with you, and started to feel guilty for making some stuff unimportant.

Without trying to be wise, here is packing tips from the packing master. Remember to choose, stuff in, and carry.

Choose; like picking a life partner, pick things that you can't live without, not things that you can live with.

Stuff in; like in a relationship, pack them in gently as not to break it, and leave some space just in case you are getting something from the place you are going.

Carry; if you think it is too heaving, do some ditching, and start choosing all over again. Be light, take off all your envies, jealousies, unforgiveness, selfishness and fears.

The sky was a clear cobalt blue and the temperature was warmly welcoming when we finally flew for Amsterdam from London Stansted, an airport located an hour away from central London. London is as big as its people's self-respect.

We stayed at a 3-star hotel located 15 minutes from central Amsterdam. We succumbed to promiscuous Dutch lifestyle very quickly as soon as we arrived, and in the words of the packing master above, we strictly chose women to ask for directions.

Random fact, Holland and Netherlands are not the same. Go figure, if it's a news to you. It was to me.

As part of its notable lifestyle, we chose to go around and cover Amsterdam ground by bike. Ah Thong cycles everyday through busy London, and it was his time to shine. Amsterdam is very, very bike friendly and you can literally go anywhere with a bike. Multistory parking spaces akin to those built for cars are so easy to find.

But a drink for energy is needed before doing a Lance Armstrong, even for proffesionals.

A typical way of sightseeing, we went to [sic] Amsterdams Historich Musuem over so many museums there are in Amsterdam. I don't know why, maybe because that is the only museum we happened to stumble upon. We were so much zeroing in on how to get to the big Amsterdam sign. When map fails you, the best thing is to ask around, another opportunity to become a Hugh Grant looking for a Julia Roberts. English is widely spoken, so to communicate with the locals is not so much a headache.

So we knew where the big sign was, and the quickest way to get there is by water. So we had to either swim or rent a boat to Museumplein, Museum Square in English. We are sensible and pragmatic people, so we chose to canal-bike instead.

Nicknamed himself as John Rackham few years ago, Ammar is useless on the steering wheel. So Izham Sparrow had to come for a rescue.

We took a while cruising through Amsterdam canals before returning the small boat back in return for our deposit.

Van Gogh and Diamond Museum are few other museums located at Museumplein, but we chose to hang around the big 'I amsterdam' sign and took a nap on the green after a long day of cycling, walking and canal-biking.

We needed energy and H-two-O, and after stuffing up, we wandered through for free live music and street performances.

As the night approaches, we finished up our dinner and headed to the area between Raadhuistraat and Centraal Station, where the most of the journey is all about.

Red Light District, the place where suddenly hot European babes will actually turn their heads and talk to typical Malay guys. Well, few travel guidebooks suggested that Amsterdam is not just about RLDs so as to broaden our horizon to explore for more other unique places in Amsterdam. Thanks but no thanks. This is unique enough for us.

As for the others, let the story stays there. Disclaimer: Sorry for disappointing you with only a paragraph of what you might actually looking for.

The next day, we sampled a cup of Amsterdam public transportation and travelled more parts of Amsterdam by bus and tram. I thought it was cheap and reliable, a mark for that. Another good way of diving into seas of people to mix around.

We went to Amsterdam Bijlmer ArenA, the home of AFC Ajax, home of the legendary Johan Cruyff. Just a point to brag, only five teams in Europe have the honour of keeping the real Champions League trophy after winning it; AFC Ajax, Real Madrid, FC Bayern, AC Milan and yes, Liverpool. The one you see in stadium tours are just replicas, only that five have kept the real ones for a while. If your team is not one of them, pray more.

We called Amsterdam a day with free complimentary green apple from Amsterdam Public Library and dozed off for tomorrow's journey to the capital of European Union.

If you want to take a break from reading, go have a little stretch and make yourself a cup of tea now. I am carrying on in a while. So, few pictures before I'm getting there.

You don't have to fly to Brussels from Amsterdam, and a more cheaper option is to travel by bus, which took us about 3 hours. We got off at Gare du Nord-Noordstation, and with a few minutes talking to the guy on the information counter, we figured out that it actually stands for North Station.

Communicating was a bit tricky in Brussels as the people hardly speaks English (so much for it being the capital of EU, it tells so much that not being able to speak English is not a bad thing). Brussels is a bi-lingual city, its people either speaks Dutch or French, which explained why signs are written in two languages.

I picked up few Dutch when I was in Amsterdam, dank u wel (spelled danke je wel) for thank you and nekhe (spelled negen) for number nine. Number nine? A number for escort services I saw on Dutch TV.

Our hotel is just 10 minutes away from the station and city centre is another 10. Basically, we don't have to use much public transportation and just have to make sure we are fit enough to walk.

Brussels is a bit more mellow than the lively Amsterdam, hence a good place for traveling couples looking for some alone schmaltzy time. It is popular for homemade chocolates and perfumes and we had great time going in and out chocolate shops for free sampling. Making the seriously-I-am-interested-to-buy face will earn you more piece.

I think a day is enough if you want to skim through Brussels unique architectural eminence, but we were told by the soft spoken perfumer Ah Thong bought his perfume from, if you want to experience something Belgian and different, get on a train to Bokrijk, 4 hours away from Brussels. After some googling, I have promised to myself to go next time.

Anyway, the perfume shop (or a booth) was a small shop at Vlooienmarkt where we also bought strawberries for snacks. Then we headed for the world's first shopping mall (yes, the world's first, opened in 1800s), Sint Hubertusgalerijen and I think we were not the first human being to not to buy anything upon going there.

I thought Manneken Pis is a big statue. Maybe because I don't know French to figure out that it actually means little man urinating. There are so many legends behind the story of the little man, ranging from it being the son of former Belgian master and the kid who was responsible to win a war for Belgium by urinating.

One thing about Europeans is that they love to carve and make statues that make their buildings and monuments so pleasant to see. I just love to see the efforts and time needed to make very little detail that make even a gift shop so artistic.

We were lucky that Brussels Jazz Festival was held when we were there, so another free live music for the ears. It was held in the middle of Grand Place-Grote Markt, surrounded by city tower and so many old buildings (many more carvings to see).

Brussels is home for nice buildings and more museums and galleries, hence more pictures.

We had BBC and CNN in both our room in Amsterdam and Brussels, and we were updated on GM bankruptcy and Air France flight crash. The latter was so daunting to think about as we had to fly back to London. But thanks to fit flight attendants, I didn't spend a minute thinking of plane crash.

We touched down at London and rushed for dinner with Hamid, another guy from Kuala Kangsar. He bought us a massive dinner at Tinseltown, an American-like halal diner at Farringdon and then we met Ali, our senior, again from Kuala Kangsar. Having just spending two years in Kuala Kangsar, I can only judge him from legends and tragedies about him, which I think far from true when I met him.

Ammar had to fly back to Malaysia the next day and we slept only at 5am. We stayed at Hamid's and I had the longest sleep in my life to miss sending Ammar off to Malaysia. When I woke up, Hamid has gone for some meeting and that left only me and Ah Thong, who was still sleeping. I woke him up, had dinner and I watched Terminator for the first time at Fulham Broadway. I thought it was just allright, since I am not much a science-fiction movie fan.

I headed off home a day later, which was three days ago on the same bus that made my back hurts, and as you can tell, it takes me three days to recover, unpack, and sort myself out from the crazy adventure I had. Well, okay lah, not so crazy adventure I had.

I'll meet the two again in few weeks. See you guys in Kuala Kangsar!

It was a great week. No, with friends it was a helluva week.

Now back to fund-raising and the paperwork.

Verba-teh Tarik

2009-05-27T12:47:00.002+08:00

Hang balik mai sini bila? NZ jom. Aku tak jejak situ since kau takde. Haha. Macam pergi Graceland tak jumpe Elvis.

Paris and Rome, I'll be home.

Supper With Heather Fairclough

2009-05-26T11:00:00.002+08:00

Some people just want my help, not my friendship.

"How did you help them, anyway?"

By allowing them to make fun of me.

I play around too much, no one takes me seriously.

"Yeah, I was about to say that."

Of course. Finish your drink, I'm paying this time.

"Ha ha yeah right."

Tangisan Timur Laut

2009-05-25T04:34:00.004+08:00

Welcome to Whineside, to Woeside and to Tearside, where football bubbles through the veins of a region and where, this season at least, it threatens to corrode the soul.

George Caulkin, one of my favorite, other than the already famed Hubbard and Rae.

Those Mackems are having the last laugh, two points clear the sorry Geordies, and can still play Liverpool next season. Boro are worst, unable to cope with Downing's absence and Tuncay was obviously too heartbroken to work his socks off. Maybe it is time to pack your stuff and head to Merseyside.

Championship is the last thing big team like Newcastle would ever like to think about. The ghost of Elland Road will haunt St. James Park for as long as Newcastle are in the Championship. Such coincidence, my first Premier League match as a spectator was a match between the two relegated clubs. Anyway, good luck next season, for I am looking forward to learn some Championship kick of English football.

Robbie Keane thought he could return as the bone in contention, when he scored Spurs' first and only goal at Anfield, but the Reds were too good to allow anyone to humiliate them in front of the Kop.

It was an emotional farewell to the legendary Sami Hyypia, and the sight of him replacing Stevie G at 84th minutes, and wearing the captain's armband was heart-rending. We will miss you, Sami.

Another trophy-less season for us but we achieved something great this season: re-establishing ourself as a serious title contender. United were close to shed Devils tears, and mark my word, Liverpool will be back to haunt them.

Premier League, checked. Let's have some Malaysian football, shall we?

FB-itis

2009-05-20T03:17:00.004+08:00

"Dude, why so quiet?"

I am updating my status. Ha ha no lah, I am reading, can't you see? Anyway what's up?

"Oh, have you spoken to Ali about the task?"

Yes, I wall-to-wall him already. Ha ha yes I have.

"Dude, I like your suggestion."

Like only?" Anything to comment? Ha ha any other ideas?

"Dude, do you know Nicholas?"

If there is a quiz on how well I know him, I'd score 60% easily. Ha ha yes I know him.

Poke! "Dude, don't lah poke me like that!"

Poke! Nah I poke you back.

"Anyway, can we talk about the assignment during lunchtime?"

Sorry mate, I'll be offline by then, try message thread. Ha ha sure.

"Why so mad?"

I tagged you in a note, but you did nothing. Another thing, no birthday present from you yesterday.

"Wall message wish not enough ah?"

Anyway, hey I like your new dress.

"When did you see one?"

Err, your profile picture?

What in the blue hell was that?

So people, beware of this thing called Facebook. It fucks you and your social skill.

"Sun and surf, barbecue, beach bonfires, ah I just love the summer."

Huh, I thought it is still winter?

Kamal

2009-05-17T04:09:00.004+08:00

Here is something I've promised to do.

Today is 16th May 2009. I don't give any hoot about what is there supposed to be remembered on this day, other than a friend's birthday.

He is Ahmad Kamal bin Zafrullah. I just call him Kamal.

I know him since 1995 and we grew up together ever since. Together we played and appreciated football like any other middle-class kids that time. If not because of him, I might probably have found congkak and cartoons interesting instead.

We were in the same class, played football for school together, being corrupted prefects together, ran for house relay team together and above all, had been lepak mamak together for as long as I can remember.

He supports Chelsea and never been bothered to annoy me when The Blues made more marks than The Reds.

It broke my heart when his family left Taman Permata. Anyway, it is funny that I can still remember his old house phone number, considering that it was used to be the number I would dial for football meeting every evening.

My house used to be the video-game and indoor football dungeon, and I'd go to his house to ponteng sekolah agama to play barefooted badminton and football. Both our parents still don't know about this.

He is very athletic in nature. He'd be the guy who would climb the tree if someone kicked the ball into the tall, sometimes spiky tree. I'd rather stay back and look from far, since I wouldn't be much of help given how inferior my physique was. Fair enough, and still is.

He can play in any given position, even between the post. I used to envy his shooting strength and hated myself for being small. We won the school's famous inter-class football competition and have not stop talking about it yet everytime we meet.

Now that he lives few miles away from Taman Permata, he is still making his rounds, driving all the way to meet us over teh tarik.

He was the last guy I lepak mamak with before I left, and one of few guys who is always there to pick me up when I'm down, all secretly behind the scene.

He is one of few people I don't feel geli at all when he calls me 'bro'.

Nice knowing you. You are my prayer answered. Happy birthday, bro.

Females Are More Religious In Nature

2009-05-15T21:26:00.006+08:00

For the first time, I am writing this post in the comfort of ridiculously Usain Bolt-fast university internet connection and not so comforting feeling given that the exam is just few days away.

A directorate pharmacist (or drug consultant for commercial reason) from nearby hospital came to teach me gastrointestinal and liver aspects of pharmacology today, and I should know by now to suggest some drug (with accurate quantity) if you are struggling with abdominal pain. OMG!

Only if she didn't look like someone familiar, I would have paid more attention and wouldn't have screwed the last bit of the tutorial. OMG!

I never thought I'd enjoy doing drug dose calculation, since my numerical skill is beyond catastrophic. I had to use the calculator to subsract 32 from 45, when talking to my junior about IB points. OMG!

Now I have an hour to kill. I've watched every goal there is at 101greatgoals, read more news than I supposedly had to, and starting to load Top Gear on YouTube. Ah life's great! OMG!

Okay not, since exam is around the corner. It's like, OMG!

It is raining out there and I had to keep my cool by not running in the rain, and walked steadily instead. Toilet drier was in full blast before I sorted myself out again. OMG!

A guy next to me is panicking with revision (I assume he is doing Business, because he smells nice) and a girl is talking very loudly on the phone just right accross the table. OMG!

The wall is painted white with adverts of college election hopeful candidates' campaign poster splashed all over. Some of them are cute and might get my vote. Few more revealing pictures will secure my vote without a slightest of hesitation. OMG!

The printer is so busy today, ominously printing off slides after slides. If the printer can talk, he might want to have heart-to-heart talk with me. I have nothing to do with him, since I have my own printer in my room - except for it being the loyal supplier of A4 papers. OMG!

That printer is a cash machine for the uni, ripping 4p for each page printed. Yes, I did turn to look at the print charges poster right at my back. OMG!

And there is a girl just below the poster. Accurately standing at my 5 o'clock, she mixes black-white silk dress with dark purple scarf and wears blue sandals with brown handbag - and stupidly big green stone earrings, which succesfully confused me of the concept of mix and match. I can never understand how fashion works. Ridiculously weird and expensive. Yes, I have to turn and look again, and lucky to escape unnoticed. OMG!

When I mentioned 5 o'clock just now, a Chinese couple just walked in. The guy raised his eyebrow to greet me hello - that's how we Asian do the trick: no talking, yet relationship saving. The girl is okay lah, nothing like Gillian Chung to really catch my attention. Seeing them reminded me of Sichuan Earthquake Charity fundraising drive they had last week in uni. I donated zero pence, compensated it with few emphatic questions and discovered how well the drive went!

Can I make up a story that there was a massive earthquake happened in some place in Malaysia few years ago that killed millions so that I can lead a charity fundraising drive? I think I could get 100 pounds easily in a day. Tell some stories, show some bucket and shake some hands, and in few days, I'll get my USD300!

Morally wrong. OMG!

One of my coursemate knows my school, but spelt it CCKK. Banyak sangat C tu. He knows it by the school's cricket ground. He asked me whether I know Bradford Grammar School or not. I knew shit about his school before he told me his high school story. He went away just before he was about to bore me.

I remember now who that drug consultant looked like: my essay advisor back in Banting. Oh she was my tutor as well. I hope she is doing well. I have to go now.

By the way, there you go - blogging, by girls' definition.

OMG! So, OMG! Aww, OMG! It's like, so, OMG! It's like, aww, so, OMG! It's like, it's like, aww, aww, OMG!

Kill me.

Toodles.

OMG!

Hai Cerdik Pandai

2009-05-13T02:41:00.003+08:00

Jalan-jalan terpijak kaca,

Bijak pandai tak pakai selipar,

Kalau tuan tidak membaca,

Jangan cuba nak cakap besar.

Man exceeds all bounds when he thinks he is self-sufficient. - The Clinging Form: 6-7

Good luck in exams, hamba-hamba Tuhan sekalian.

P/s - Can somebody tell me how to raise USD300 in a month without doing anything legally and morally wrong?

Enigma Bahasa

2009-05-06T05:43:00.004+08:00

Sains dan Matematik dalam Bahasa Inggeris. Kau tanya apa kata aku. Dengar ya, aku cuba ulas.

Aku tak kisah kalau nak disuruh belajar dalam bahasa apa pun, tapi kalau aku ada kuasa, aku mahu belajar dalam bahasa aku berfikir.

Bangsa aku teruk dibelasah, dikatakan mundur dalam Sains dan Matematik kerana prestasi buruk ketika menjawab soalan dalam Bahasa Inggeris.

Tahu tak, bangsa aku bukan tak tahu jawab soalan, tapi tak faham soalan dan tak tahu cara terbaik untuk terangkan jawapan. Kerana apa? Bahasa Inggeris bukan bahasa dalam otak bangsa aku.

Sumpah aku tak nafikan kepentingan Bahasa Inggeris. Aku boleh mati kelaparan kalau tidak tahu berbahasa Inggeris di sini.

Tapi aku rasa jelik bila orang permainkan isu bahasa, bahasa apa pun, baik bahasa aku atau bahasa mereka. Masing-masing menjatuhkan maruah masing-masing.

Bangsa aku dengan yakin angkat bahasa aku sehingga lupa bahasa mereka juga bahasa ilmu. Bahasa mereka angkuh dengan nilai tradisi bahasa mereka sebagai bahasa ilmu sehingga lupa bahasa aku juga ada saham dalam menyampaikan ilmu.

Kau permainkan ilmu kalau kau permainkan bahasa ilmu. Jangan permainkan ilmu, wahai hamba Tuhan.

Aku tak kisah kalau bangsa aku handal berbahasa Inggeris. Aku tak kisah kalau bangsa aku handal berbahasa Melayu. Aku tak kisah kalau bangsa aku handal kedua-dua bahasa. Aku tak kisah kau adun kedua-dua bahasa dan jadikannya bahasa lidah kau, walaupun kadang-kadang ramai yang rasa jelik.

Sumpah aku tak kisah.

Tapi aku kisah kalau bangsa aku jadi bangsa tak berilmu dan tak berakal hanya kerana bahasa.

Sains dan Matematik dalam Bahasa Inggeris. Jadi kau tanya, aku setuju atau tidak?

Aku tak kisah kalau nak disuruh belajar dalam bahasa apa pun, tapi kalau aku ada kuasa, aku mahu belajar dalam bahasa aku berfikir.

Hormat bahasa aku, dan hormat bahasa mereka, nescaya ilmu akan datang bersama keredhaan Dia.

Harap aku menjawab soalan, dan kongsi dengan kau sedikit ilmu.

Itu pun kalau kau faham bahasa yang baru aku gunakan.

Thank God It's Weekend

2009-05-03T00:54:00.003+08:00

A friend left me at home to watch Boro play United at Riverside, and another friend left me at home to play in a football competition at Newcastle.

Eh tak lah, Izham Ismail suka main bola jaring actually.

Funny thing is, I still call them friends and still looking forward to buy them a drink.

Have a nice weekend, people.

P/s - United scored twice and now six points clear. Joke.

SkepDick

2009-05-02T19:07:00.002+08:00

I just found out what loser means: those who long for greatness but never try to take hold of it.

By simple deduction, it means that you are not a loser if you are trying. Which means that 'Fuck You Skeptics' is a valid term until hell freezes over.

Skeptics are like elephants. They have dick on their face.

I am sure there are more definitions to add. Well it is up to what kind of losers you bump into.

Do not lose hope and keep on trying, hamba-hamba Tuhan sekalian.

This one goes for those who chase their dreams quietly, for in the wise words of a good friend,

We should have just dreamt quietly and focus on making that dream a reality, rather than talking about the dream.

May God be with me, you and everyone.

WK10

2009-05-01T02:05:00.006+08:00

1998 is a year to remember. France won the World Cup for the first time, and Wan Kuzain Wan Kamal was born.

Wan Kuzain Wan who?

This young gentleman just made my day. I hope to see him soon, maybe in 2018 and see him making 2018 another year to remember for Malaysian football.

I just hope this kid will thrive unspoilt and stay in safe hands.

Wan Kuzain Wan Kamal, remember the name.

P/s - He wears number 10. What did I say about those tenners?

Parodi Tun Det

2009-04-30T04:20:00.003+08:00

I haven't tried it before, and it seems to be somehow fashionable to write in that particular way. 'Che Det' way as they call it that is, but I am not sure my wit would be as clever as his in number form.

2. I turned myself quickly for missing the first number. The introduction above is meant to be numbered as first of the post. Okay I promise I'll start my points at number three.

3. It is actually quite hard to even try to elaborate your points in a confined space of numbered paragraph. It feels like being trapped in a jungle with your hands and feet tied by armed terrorists who are hiding from the powers that be.

4. I spent literally one and a half minute before starting with this number. Most people will ally number four with bad luck, as they have it in Chinese culture. But to think of it, Patrick Vieira captained the famous Highbury Invincibles in the remarkable 49 games unbeaten run wearing number four. Even so, getting goosebumps over discovering superstitious subject matter is quite an amusement.

5. I broke my promise to start writing some relevant points at three. This is what I do most of the time, especially in telling myself when to do work and crack on studying - I play a waiting game. I love to see the look on my face when the deadline is near at hand.

6. I love playing the game in relationship with opposite sex as well, but with not much positive results to swagger about. Anyway, you should give it a try.

7. Number six was actually a little trick to have more number in this post. It was in fact an extension to the fading elaboration of number five.

8. The privilege of wearing number eight usually given to holding midfielder who has the best control and flair to engineer a team's pace. Tenners are those who get most attention and money. Sevens usually play right midfielder and wear nice boots, while elevens roam the opposite flank, traditionally possess more speed than the righteys. I made them all up for it is not written anywhere in the official football paper. But it makes sense to me.

9. My target is to have as much as 10 number for a start. Well not that I will do this again, considering the obvious struggle I am having right now to make some sense.

10. A doctor by degree, a politician and a writer who writes casually in number form, Che Det is just amazing.

Have I made my point?

Ketuk Pintu

2009-04-29T05:26:00.002+08:00

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Halim.

Halim who?

Alah buat-buat tak kenal pula.

Ha ha ha.

Merah Lawan Meghoh

2009-04-25T15:36:00.005+08:00

In case you don't know, Malaysia FA Cup final is tonight. In case you don't know, Selangor will play Kelantan in the final. In case you don't know, KTM Komuter will end their service a little late tonight if you think driving to Bukit Jalil is a hassle.

In case you don't know, it will be an epic match of hunger against history. Please fill the stadium dear Merah Kuning fans, for 40,000 east coast red army is set to go hog-wild about Bukit Jalil.

Something I found in my wallet.

May this year be ours. Good luck Red Giants.

In case you don't know, Malaysian football is where my heart is.

Kisah Stadium Trafford Tua

2009-04-25T14:47:00.006+08:00

Kisah kedua kalau awak kisah kisah yang pertama.

Manchester United might be the most supported club in the world. The fans would easily gather and form a country bigger than Brazil, let alone Malaysia.

The latest ticket price rise announcement left all Devils rueing in utter disgust when capitalism gains mastery. While just few miles away, The Citizens are all smiley when their Arab owners announced seven percent reduction in ticket price, and few other Premier League clubs reported to follow suit, which left no wonder why more locals support Man City.

Maybe it is back to old cliche and simple rule of trade: you have to pay more to get more.

But in my book, none of that matters.

I travelled to Leeds by train and slept all the way. I reminded myself to make full use of my underused cheap digital camera to snap pictures of scenic farms en route, or at least take five to have some good time enjoying the view of woolly sheep lingering and horses jumping around.

Maybe I was too busy counting them as the next thing I knew was, a hot lady was sitting next to me and before I got to put myself together back, I had to get off the train.

Arsenal were a naughty team and Rafa Benitez might get it wrong to think that scoring equals winning. When a decent striker is on fire and the opposition team's defense sloppily trying to close down, expect a goal galore.

He has made attack the priority at this desperate times, at the cost of a tight defence.

I tried to be positive by pointing out individual mistakes as the main reason. It might be the case for the first 3 goals., but Arshavin's fourth goal proved me wrong and really got on my nerve.

I shook my head in disbelief over how fragile and careless the whole team, especially the defense was. The entire team grew giddy in pursuit of a winning goal and allowed themselves to be hit on the break, Theo Walcott being the villain to set up Arshavin's fourth.

I was tad disappointed with how Reds fared in the game they should have won. With Stevie G left on the bench at the worst of times, things are getting all easier and nicer for Manchester United.

On a positive note, it is good to see the transformation of a more attacking Kop, characterized by breakneck pace and brilliance of Torres and Benayoun up front.

I am just hoping Benitez would reappraise his defense this summer and look forward for next season and in the words of Tory leader David Cameron when he blasted the Government after the unsettling budget announcement, the season is dead, over and finished.

I had few years of romantic relationship with Manchester United before I fell in love and married to Liverpool.

Like any broken relationship, it is always an emotional moment upon walking down memory lane. When I knew I would soon be sitting on a seat of the Theatre of Dreams, I wished the 10 year old Izham Ismail is here with me to live the dream.

He might go crazy to see his hero in Ryan Giggs running along the flank, and executing some trickery just like his old days.

That's when I thought of Mukhlis, who still has the dream I once had.

National Express were generous with their cheap promotional fun fares and with just 6 quid, we travelled from Leeds to Manchester right after Mukhlis finished his epidemiology lecture (which I attended as well).

We met Ken on the bus, a red cap with Sir Bobby pin-clad old gentleman as he was going to watch United play as well. It is just another game in his 59 years of supporting Red Devils. He paid 3p (loosely converted as RM1.60) when he first watch United play at Old Trafford and he doesn't understand why it is so hard for so-called football fans to watch football at stadium but laying it on thick that they know every nook and cranny about the world of football and even boast that they are the biggest fan of a team.

He was a healthy man when he first came to Old Trafford and today he cheered for Red Devils from the famous Stretford End with his walking stick in company.

It is not about money, it is not about where you come from, it is not about how fit you are, it is about heart, speaking in a a thick Yorkshire accent - before I slept and woke up to lose him.

Old Trafford is massive and I am not surprised how they can systemize the stadium, home fans and visiting fans to watch football without a hitch, given the team's stature of numero uno in the world.

The fans were crazy, singing songs I have no idea about, shouting over players' fouls, cheering over beautiful completed passes, and getting excited over chances made, and above all, when chaotic when goals are scored.

Still, I was not quite impressed - not because I have seen them all on telly, but I just don't know why such magnitude the stadium has failed to overwhelm me.

The game at Anfield 24 hours earlier was breathtaking and full swing with emotional roller-coaster, and it effectively put Kop's on the backfoot in the title race as United cruised easily through a pretty straightforward match against Pompey.

But I think the only think that separated the team was those 2 goals, as United had to scramble back to top the standing, and didn't play a champion quality. But Rooney's early goal surely eased his team's nerves and Pompey were as good as they get in posing threat in United six-yard box, with Crouch winning everything in the air and Nadir Belhadj gracious footwork to trouble United's back four.

It was Scholes' 600th appearance and he made more impact in the last 599 games than this one. He played it too simple and was easily outshone by Anderson, who started very well before wore off in the second interval.

My man of the match is fellow old warhorse, Ryan Giggs who will make his 800th appearance for the club when they host Spurs this evening. That Macheda guy was not even born when Giggs made his first senior appearance for United. Giggs gets younger on the pitch and was magnificent in almost every department and ultimately upstaged Scholes in the night of nostalgia.

I've told you.

Though not particularly impressed, it was a privilege to be among the 74,895 attendance who made it to Old Trafford that night. Being one of millions Malaysian who throng to Kedai Mamak for live English football every week, it is crazier to imagine how privileged and lucky I was.

How I wished I could bring more United fans with me that night: Mukhlis, Pak Njang and family, Ayie, Thaksin, Fakhri, who share the same belief in United and most importantly, love United enough not to look down their nose at other teams.

I had hell of a good time nevertheless.

One millon dollar teka-teki, did I put my hands together when Rooney and Carrick scored?

P/s - Anfield, see you next season.

Lagi P/s - Disappointing digital camera equals to no pictures of players. I will try to curi Mukhlis' pictures when he put it up on Facebook.

My Breakfast Show

2009-04-21T16:28:00.004+08:00

Today I made myself roti canai, chicken curry and wash them down with teh tarik for breakfast.

I switched the telly on for daily doze of news.

Minutes later, with few drops of soy sauce, I slurped telur setengah masak noisily from a transparent cup.

The news went for a commercial break and Malaysia Truly Asia advert made a feature.

I paused for a minute, and gulped the unfinished teh tarik.

I did the dishes, turned the telly off and went back into my room.

I rambled through Malaysian news online. Malaysian football news then followed.

Then only I decided to wash myself.

Playlist Di-Raja was high-pitched with Aris Ariwatan and Awie when I was in the shower.

Minutes later, I found myself stuffed, squeaky clean and most importantly, all there for the day.

No matter how far I go, I start my day Malaysian.

I hope the other 28 million too.

Seroja masih di kolam, remember?

Touché

2009-04-20T13:58:00.002+08:00

A former schoolmate of mine dream up an exciting idea as a way out of intense Premier League top four race for glory and a reasonable stop to any Premier League banter this season in his Facebook profile's status.

Sunil Shanaz Redzuan : to make it fair; how about arsenal winning the CL, chelsea winning the FA cup and since man utd already won the carling cup, let liverpool win the league. OK? :)

Works for me.

Eat And Drink, For Tomorrow We Will Die

2009-04-19T15:45:00.004+08:00

Ah world of football is getting lively as the second half of the season looks to provide some exciting dramas and happenings. This undoubtedly be fitting to be my favorite period of the season, where competitions nearing the climax and battles are heated up on and off the field.

Suddenly everyone gets emotional and started to feel the heat as the pressure piles up. That might be the case in Alex Ferguson's duel with his Liverpool counterpart, accusing the latter for being arrogant and breaking the Reds' traditional dignified managerial demeanor.

Liverpool have been knocked out from highly-publicised Champions League war, we know that. That leaves only 3 English clubs in the tournament, in their bid to prove English clubs' prowess in European football.

Ironically, only few Englishmen were seen traveling for it. Maybe the same explanation could be offered on why no English player was seen to be playing anywhere in Austria and Switzerland a year before.

As usual, I would support the team that defeated Liverpool and put my money on them to clinch the silverware. There is one exception however, if the team is Manchester United. So I wish Chelsea the best of luck.

Let me just rephrase, I would like to wish any team other than Manchester United to do well in the semi-final.

I reckon we put too much light of publicity on English teams that we discard the brilliance of the other European team, just to state the obvious: Barcelona.

Their country won Euro for the second time and I have this feeling that this is an era for Spaniards to shine.

Obviously I was not talking about Rafa Benitez unfortunate forehead.

Guus Hiddink is a real messiah. I will not be surprised if he stays at the Bridge a little longer than expected. Roman Abramovich is a fool if he let this bloke ride the plane back to Russia without stopping him using some moolah.

Champions League semi-final, and just yesterday, Chelsea confirmed their place at Wembley - the stadium Pele described as the church of football - for another FA Cup final.

(Coffe break)

Faiz Hafizi and Iqbal Hakim, unquestioned inductees of KMB Football hall of fame. Talented midfielders on the field, and great company off the field.

(Coffee finished)

Arsenal were a brave team yesterday, and were unlucky to lose. But with a game with such magnitude and pressure, experience usually outplay young 'uns. I bet Lukasz Fabianski is now looking for personal hired gun rather than a new club to play for, as his error and Drogba's grandeur was the only thing that separated both teams.

Arsene Wenger has no one to blame but himself, for not luring the Ivorian captain when he was a young, 100 grand quid worth 24 year old Le Mans' poacher. Anyway mind you he had Thierry Henry to say no. But still?

Didier is now priced at 24 million pounds, with nice looking CV and great referrals, most notably being Jose Mourinho's favorite striker. I bet he will be the engine for Chelsea's glorious season (off Premier League), mind the propensity of him falling down easily upon any sort of contacts.

FA Cup is the oldest surviving football competition in the world and like Champions League, it loses its 'seri' when Liverpool are not playing.

Not a problem at all for me, as Malaysian Liverpool is also doing well in the FA Cup. Selangor will meet Kelantan in Malaysian FA Cup final next Saturday.

They beat Perlis in the second leg of the semi-final with two goals from Amri Yahyah, the captain. You know what is the name we darlingly gave to him? Wak Am.

Stadium Bukit Jalil (akin to Wembley Stadium) will play host to the final which set to flare up the fiery temper of controversy-laden Kelantan fans, after the ugly incident in Kota Bharu which result in RM100,000 worth of damage, remaining season long ban for Stadium Sultan Muhammad IV and certainly a black mark in Kelantan and Malaysian football scene.

Anyway I believe it is promised to be a neck and neck encounter, with both teams look comfortable filling the top two spots in Super League.

It will surely be a vengeful comeback for former Red Giants in Indra Putra Mahyuddin and Khalid Jamlus. I just knew that Kelantan fans call themselves Red Warriors and they are quite as interesting as Kedah fans mind you, except for their renowned tantrum and ability to raise the definition of the word 'gocoh'.

Unlike Selangor fans, who will only go to the stadium when Selangor are doing well.

Ah second half of the season, so many stories.

I left English clubs' relegation battle, North East's headache and ever-exciting transfer gossips on purpose before I lose your interest.

But just a quick peek, Kenny Dalglish is rumored to be coming back to Merseyside. No, not to replace Rafa, but as special advisor to the Spaniard. Necessary? I don't think so. But like the presence of Alan Shearer at Tyneside, it would surely a boost for the fans' confidence.

Cristiano Ronaldo is going nowhere and hinted that Real switch is not real.

Rafa is offloading Ryan Babel to make way for a star striker. David Villa?

Anyway the transfer window is opening in 3 months and surely things will get even more crazier. Especially those Arabs of Manchester City's who might already ready to splurge 1 billion pounds for Kaka.

Interesting moment of football. Carpe diem!

Sihir

2009-04-19T08:55:00.002+08:00

Aku sebenarnya ahli sihir, boleh bertukar wajah. Tapi aku miskin, tak mampu bertukar baju. Jangan tenung lama-lama, nanti aku sihir kau jadi duit.

One-night Stand

2009-04-18T13:08:00.000+08:00

Semalam aku baca blog kawan aku sebelum tidur. Pagi ini, blog tersebut masih terpapar di monitor.

Oh Tuhan, aku telah meniduri kawan sendiri!

You Will Never Walk Alone

2009-04-15T06:08:00.003+08:00

It was a night of hope for Reds and a glory for Blues.

A mission impossible as it was, we had to walk into Stamford Bridge without Steven Gerrard in our search for 3 away goals to set a date with the Catalan giant in the semi-final.

I made myself tomato and cheese pizza layered with sheer anxiety and faith. 350 degree fahrenheit in the oven, this will go down as the hottest match I will ever see.

I told myself that if we were to paint the Bridge red and settle the game in our direction, we had to play the first twenty minutes right and score at least two goals before the first interval.

I think the players heard me and did just that.

I questioned the inclusion of Lucas in the first eleven after his dismal performance in the first leg and with Babel and Riera on the bench, I thought Rafa was crazy.

He does not believe in miracle, but in his team. Lucas was the man to watch and Mascherano, Kuyt and Alonso were equally brilliant in engineering the possession.

Torres had a fortune as Benayoun flick inside 12 minutes sent him a one-on-one opportunity to set the pace early on. But if it was Adriano's left foot that was on the trigger, it might be another story.

Fabio Aurelio genius found the hole in Chelsea's defence to pull an audacious trigger to make it one-nil Liverpool.

Chelsea made it hard for themselves with clumsy defending and careless possession. They lost their nerve completely in the first half.

The pizza is now ready and while waiting for it to cool down, Xabi Alonso converted the penalty that made the dream and hope looked in the cards.

End of 45 minutes and it was the best pizza ever.

I did not miss Steven Gerrard at all as I washed down the pizza with a glass of blackberry squash.

Second half was a different story.

What differs a good manager with excellent manager is the way he handles half-time team talk.

I wonder what Guus Hiddink said to Chelsea players when they were two-nil down but whatever it was, I think that was fit and inspiring enough for a movie.

He got under the players' skin and turn the game around in Chelsea's way.

I guess the biggest turning point was Reina's fumble which saw him palmed Drogba's flick from former Reds Anelka's cross into his own net.

If we scored our third, the match had to be settled in extra time. We were not ready for that.

Alex loaded the gun back again for Chelsea with a sensational free kick before Lampard colored the Bridge blue again.

I shook my head in disbelief and was ready to hand in the semi-final ticket to Chelsea. I think Rafa did as well, substituting Torres out in focus for next game against Arsenal and brought N'Gog in.

Not until I saw the best last 10 minutes of football where all mother of craziness began to lift the roof of Stamford Bridge.

It was my bone of contention in the form of Lucas Leiva who made believe that we are still up for the challenge. He scored a deflected goal to make it 3-3 and Dirk Kuyt confirmed that we are the King of Comeback with a superb header to meet Riera pin-point cross.

Now we only need one more goal to seal the deal and suddenly, every Kop missed Fernando Torres and Steven Gerrard as a goal looked too far to catch.

Hope was all around the ghost of Istanbul looked to be heading to Stamford Bridge, as Chelsea was nervous in their defence.

But certainly not in their attack. They were ruthless in the six yard box with deadly combination of Drogba and Anelka and ever hungry Ballack and Lampard.

It took the man with an unusual high IQ to colour the Bridge blue back for good. Frank Lampard rounded it up with a fantastic shot for his second of the game and fourth for Chelsea to kill our hope of lifting sixth Champions League silverware.

It was a brave Liverpool team and they were all heroes tonight, bowing out with their heads up high.

People say only the Premier League title can cure this defeat. I beg to differ, for my football is more than just winning, and Liverpool this season had given me more than enough inspiration and love for me to love them more next season.

Well done, lads. Just play the remaining game in the league with your heads up high because we are all winners this season.

C'mon Baby Blue

2009-04-14T09:34:00.007+08:00

I have been enjoying myself watching lots of witty British automobile talkshow Top Gear on telly for a while now and I got addicted to browse for more on YouTube. I think British reality show has everything to talk about for being more dramatic and less staged, other than having exceptional mannerism of elevating profanity to entire new level.

Certainly I was refering the latter to Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmare.

Photography has pretty much killed painting, while telly has made going to the theathre seem pointless and YouTube comes to kill telly and spoil everything up.

This video might come out a little bit old for some, but certainly not for me.

Coming from a person who has massive passion in cars and automobiles, and the kind of guy my dad would love to talk to, he got it spot on when he described Perodua Kelisa as unimaginative junk with no soul, no flair and no passion.

If only they put a little bit of love in making it - really sit down to come up with proper design, compelling engineering and all that jazz - rather than cleaning up a jungle and churn something out to prop up the nation's GDP.

I am being more than patriotic to agree with that lad, despite the fact that he was born in Doncaster.

We all have to agree that if automobile market is a pool of Premier League players, Perodua is someone worse than Titus Bramble.

I think most of us are grown-up enough to know that ignorance kills, and being patriotic and emotional are just not enough to cover things up.

Most importantly, refusing to own up to our mistake (or stupidity if you may) is worse than being dumped by a stupid, hideous girl. It is a pathetic little act.

It is a great insult to those who has passion in car and those who love it too much to name them after a girl's name (other than feed, wash and take it for a spin).

The same way they insult me with what they did to Malaysian football scene.

Let there be love because all you and we need is love.