The Road to Disappointment.

Korea is a strange place.

So my first American football match was today.  I arrive at ten o clock, like I was supposed to.  I stayed all day like I was supposed to.  I trained and practiced with them like I was supposed to.  I reminded them that I'm awesome at rugby, and skinned tons of them in training, I nailed a couple of guys and made them regret  being opposite me.  I did everything an aggressive team sport dictates.

They got me suited and booted, which is just ridiculous by the way.  The pads don't weigh much, and the helmets are easy to see out of; but they quadruple your dimensions.  It's impossible to go through gaps, they just don't exist in american football.

Anyway, they put me in for a play, then took me out, then put me in, then took me out, (before the play began) they did the same thing to another guy, and we were both pissed so we threw our helmets on the floor; that's sacrilege in Korea, because, according to one of the coaches, 'the helmet is team.'  You can interpret that any way you want, but the upshot is that neither of us got to play because we were angry, and had adrenaline pumping through us.  Two things you don't want in a physical sport like american football.  Oh wait, did I get that the wrong way round?  Are you supposed to be psyched to play a sport like american football, or are you supposed to tickle the opposition players?  I forgot.

So I just wasted my Saturday for a bunch of assholes that wouldn't let me play, and who themselves are terrible.  Seriously, people were praising a player who managed to break a single tackle, that is a staple in rugby, and they couldn't do that.  There was one hit that was powerful, in the whole game.  These guys are bad.  Just give me one opportunity to sack the quarterback, or give me the ball once and let me run the whole length of the field.

Anyway, we got the adult equivalent of a time-out, and now I'm sunburnt, tired and, frankly, bored of the whole thing.  I think I'll find out more about the rugby team.

Then again, it would be pretty sweet to win a game for these guys, and then stick two fingers up at them halfway through the season, leaving them with nonrefillable shoes.  Revenge will be mine at the end of the day.  That and tons of touchdowns.

What a Hectic Week

So this week has been all kinds of crazy.

First off, work is a real pain at the moment.  We have to write end of year reports for all our kids.  This is a nightmare, because each child needs a custom written report; not like England, where each kid falls into one of three pre-defined categories, each with a standard form.  I've known classmates who received identical school reports, with someone else's name and date of birth.  Each comment is bespoke, and each one requires five to ten minutes.  Multiply that by eighty or so and you see how annoying this particular task is.  It would be okay if we had fewer daily and weekly tasks to complete - but I guess there is never enough time.

My finger is officially healing in the wrong direction.  It's pointing outwards, where the same finger on the other hand is pointing inwards.  I've managed to keep the actual pain of it from my manager and co-workers, so I shan't be discouraged from playing sport by them.

On the sporting side-note, I might finally have cracked the american football conundrum.  There is a training session next Wednesday, and I've been invited along with a couple of colleagues.  It's not rugby, but beggars can't be choosers.  Plus I'll finally be able to fold some chumps and work out the inner aggression I've been barricading inside.  Who knows, maybe I'll be able to lay out some of the aforementioned colleagues too!

I made a girl in my year six cry by pronouncing her name incorrectly.  I checked, it wasn't swearing, and it wasn't rude - I just said it wrong.  If she hasn't figured out that people make mistakes by the age of twelve, I fear for her growing up.  When she steps outside of the school gates for the first time, her little head will explode.

We played a little basketball on Wednesday and Thursday of last week, and again on Wednesday this week.  Basketball is fun, but there are a couple of societal rejects who play, who score fewer than I do.  This would not normally be a problem, but they whoop and yell and shout and scream as if they were gods.  Not to mention that they hit me and push me, (past the point of it being a foul) and jump on my toes; and when I run at them with the ball they call fouls that would make a footballer blush.  They're pathetic, and must have been bullied by someone who looks like me at some stage in their lives.  I have heard that one of them plays american football though, so I will go out of my way to destroy him.  If I break both of his legs, then he can't play basketball next week and I will be much happier.

We played football with a group on Wednesday.  It was good fitness, but I'm worse than hopeless at football.  I still can't see the appeal of it, if I'm honest.  I'd play any day of the week though, I was up and down the pitch like a terrier (a mentally handicapped one, but a terrier nonetheless) and as a result have surely gained .1% lunch capacity over my previous fitness.

So basically between the gym, basketball/football and work, I've had no time to even write an entry on my blog.  (I finished at 7pm today, went to the gym but wasn't really feeling up to it and came back early.)

I'm going to finally pick up an alarm that works this weekend, if I survive tomorrow, that is.