I should probably tell you all that I have a foosball table. I don't know why I should, but it appears to be something I would think you might like to know. It's one of those Tornado Tables that those pubs and pool houses carry.
And so, over the past few days since the weekend the table had been assembled (in the hallway next to my room) I've come to learn that I have very poor hand-eye coordination.
I'm lying about that--I didn't just learn it over the weekend or anything of the like. It's been like that since I was a kid. After a certain speed, my reactions are generally poorer in quality.
Badminton shuttlecocks are a prime example of this. Are you like me? Does the shuttlecock miss the racquet by mere inches? Are you like me--that when you miss it, you are no longer embarrassed because it no longer seems to be an issue of skill levels; that somehow or rather through either spellbinding magic or a higher form of sorcery, the opponents have been given an edge over you?
I'm just kidding about that: of course there's still some embarrassment, but it's only embarrassment from not being selected, picked by the divine almighty Badminton wind spirits. I hate them.
Come to whatever conclusion you feel like, but just don't start with your crazy-eyes comments because they will be filtered. Carefully filtered.
I stopped playing Badminton long ago; since primary school. By "playing" the idea of consistently or regularly is best suitable. I don't remember having this problem with missing, then but things are rather foggy in that direction of my life.
And Kwang Ming asked me to play football with them. He was trying so hard to persuade me. The guy is unwavering. No never means no. I'll be avoiding that football phone call, I assure you that. I have a strange feeling I have poor foot-eye coordination as well.
And so, over the past few days since the weekend the table had been assembled (in the hallway next to my room) I've come to learn that I have very poor hand-eye coordination.
I'm lying about that--I didn't just learn it over the weekend or anything of the like. It's been like that since I was a kid. After a certain speed, my reactions are generally poorer in quality.
Badminton shuttlecocks are a prime example of this. Are you like me? Does the shuttlecock miss the racquet by mere inches? Are you like me--that when you miss it, you are no longer embarrassed because it no longer seems to be an issue of skill levels; that somehow or rather through either spellbinding magic or a higher form of sorcery, the opponents have been given an edge over you?
I'm just kidding about that: of course there's still some embarrassment, but it's only embarrassment from not being selected, picked by the divine almighty Badminton wind spirits. I hate them.
Come to whatever conclusion you feel like, but just don't start with your crazy-eyes comments because they will be filtered. Carefully filtered.
I stopped playing Badminton long ago; since primary school. By "playing" the idea of consistently or regularly is best suitable. I don't remember having this problem with missing, then but things are rather foggy in that direction of my life.
And Kwang Ming asked me to play football with them. He was trying so hard to persuade me. The guy is unwavering. No never means no. I'll be avoiding that football phone call, I assure you that. I have a strange feeling I have poor foot-eye coordination as well.
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