The Fat Spencer's Gym

Six years.
I do not reckon that i am adept at rugby, but as a player, i placed my balls, heart, mind into the pitch whenever the battle summoned for my presence.
Six years.
I stumbled upon varied opponents, grotesque caucasians, zany malays, and stubborn chinese.
Six years.
I try to fcuk opponents till they are screwed internally.
Six years.
I conceive the fact that team mates are not your training tackling bags, but someone who gives a pat on ur shoulder, and say "fcuk you"
Six years.
I always have the urge to wreck my opponents' sissy faces, and sniggered, smirked or whatever.
Six years.
I relive the thinking that my team mates consider me as a big wussy pussy during secondary one, someone who will not walk out big of the pitch.
Six years.
I have pigged out seoul garden right before my training.
Six years.
I presume i have inflicted around ten severe injuries on my opponents in my career, cool huh? more to come.
Six years.
I am sometimes individualistic. perhaps predominantly.
Six years.
I perceive the fact that to win a game, u have to presuppose you have more balls than your opponents.
Six years.
I desire to win, and frolick with some metal in my hands like a kid.
Six years.
I venerate big coach rong. fcuk man, u really rocks my time.
Six years.
I do not want to replicate others style of playing. only mine. truly mine.
Six years.
I understand that skills, strength, speed and stamina will mould ur rugby future.
Six years.
I want to carry the day, dearly and painstakingly.
Six years.
I want to thank zh, cunt, pussy, andry, nigga, yiheng, benj, mohammed, charles, yc, clarence, dhl, choong.
Six years.
I want to again thank disong, pom, sk, cheeky, huiwen, cai, 2 dollars, chinaman, changliang, hans and mong.
Six years.
I suppose an end has to be put to this end.
Six years.
I want to caress the metal plate like someone's boobs.
Six years.

no more dejectedness, no more disappointment. only laughter.
fcuk you all, my satan self has been lured out to beat you all into a pulp.