Europe, conquered... Maths, vanquished.

Perhaps a tad overdue, but all special things deserves a mention.

Need I say more?

Yes i do want to say more. Many weeks ago, before the final, and knowing Youjin's uncanny inability with betting, I implored him to bet heavy on an AC Milan's victory. "YOUJIN, buy milan leh. Then my Liverpool can win. Buy more please." "Okay. I think milan will win anyway."

Match day. Chuanzhong and talisman youjin were over at my place to catch the game. Within a min, we were a goal down and my heart sank to the groud. Walk On Walk On... By halftime, Milan was up 0-3. I looked at CZ and CZ looked back at me. We looked at the TV and the 40,000 Liverpudlians looked back at us. I then looked towards the east and i could feel the sun saying he will be taking MC at dawn. I felt like beating up youjin.

Second half resumes. In the living room, the general mood of despair overwhelm the money-winning mood 2:1. Then Gerrard flicked a header in. 1:3. A glimmer of hope! "Get another 2 to make it 3:3 and we win on penalties!" I exlaimed hopefully against the reality.

Then 2:3. Vladimir Smicer the forgotten man thumps one home and the fans took the roof off.

Then still 2:3. Gerrard tripped by Gattuso. Penalty. Alonso took it. Dida Saved it. I fell down. Alonso whacked in the rebound. 3:3. I jumped up. CZ jumped up. Youjin sank. 40,000 in Ataturk Stadium jumped up. A few hundred thousands more in Liverpool jumped up. Italy sank.

Injury time. Shevchenko shot from a yard from goal. A few million mouths opened in unison in fear. Dudek saved. The bloody Ukrainian shot again. The Pole saved again. The few million mouths breathed out together once more. Youjin and Italy sank back another inch. 3:3.

Down to the penalty shootout. Serginho missed. Hamann scored. Dudek saved from Pirlo. Ciise scored. Tomasson scored. Riise missed. Kaka scored. Smicer scored. Dudek saved from Shevchenko..... and half the world erupted in wild spontaneous celebrations.

Youjin's betting slip, from looking so smug and safe at half time, now turned into worthless celebratory confetti. What a good friend..

................... take a break ........................

Somewhere else, on a different battleground, yours-truly, the under-dog, the perenially under-performing under-grad, engaged in a failing tussle with Maths, the representative from the over-empowering education structure over a semester-long fight. Make it 2 semesters if the first semester is included, whereupon the hero had skilfully evaded a headfront confrontation by dropping the foreign subject.

The characters and gameplay may differ, but the heroic plots remains. The results are out. A 'D' grade was received, and a D is a pass. The greater evil has been defeated, the nation saved from prolonged slavery and the world rejoices.

So here the hero stands tall, one leg onto the next semester. Despite being totally incapable of integrating or differentiating the simplest form of useless equation, the nightmare has been vanquished.

Maths, I spit on you.