This was a team which was previously bereft of ideas, sluggish in every department and looking very much on its way down. King Kenny changed all that.

The unity, discipline and hardwork is back. King Kenny’s brand of football is nondescript, but it gets the job done. This was what Roy Hodgson was brought in to do – rebuild a team shorn of confidence from a rollercoaster Benitez reign. Roy failed and Kenny delivered.

Certainly, this is still a patchy team. Weaknesses abound. Maxi Rodriguez personifies this. Labelled as a ‘tricky and intelligent’ winger by Soccernet, his performances in a red shirt consigns these characteristics to the bin. He can’t pass, can’t dribble and as apparent in the Chelsea game, can’t hit the back of the net from a metre out as well.

It would be surprising to see him turn out in a Liverpool jersey ever again.

King Kenny’s plan is to make the most out of the limited talent there is in this team.   And you can see that flashy players cut no ice with him. Torres’ exit extinguishes the last bit of flair in this team. Joe Cole will unlikely feature again. Instead, the likes of Lucas, Poulsen, Miereles and Kuyt are favoured.

Their industry in midfield was not pretty but it was certainly effective. Chelsea was limited to just one shot on target. Torres, for all the pre-match hype was kept quiet by the defensive trio of Srktel, Agger and Carragher.

While Chelsea disintegrated on the pitch, Ancelotti was moaning incessantly to the fourth official at the touchline. He admitted later that his side ran out of ideas to break down Liverpool’s red wall.

That was the truth. Chelsea never looked like winning. Ancelotti’s talent were concentrated on the centre. He had no wingers and his attacking full backs, Cole and Bosingwa could not charge forth without worrying about the counter attacking threat posed by the impressive Kelly and Johnson.

Torres’ surprise substitution was defended by Ancelotti at the aftermath press conference. It was a tactical decision by Ancelotti to haul him off. He needed width and wingers to dislodge the brick wall. Hence, Malouda and Kalou were introduced.

Alas, King Kenny chose wisely to introduce Poulsen instead of Suarez and Liverpool defended with 10 men behind the ball.

In every sense, this victory was masterminded by King Kenny. He outwitted and outsmarted his counterpart in the blue dugout.

This is a man whose critics claimed was ‘out of the game’ for 20 years. Yet, his tactical manoeuvres resembled what a grandmaster would do on a chessboard.

Who would have imagined that after such a wretched season,  Liverpool are just 6 points adrift of the lucrative fourth spot.

For the last 12 games, Liverpool should make a concerted push for the top 4. If Liverpool finishes fourth, Kenny might well be renamed ‘Houdini Kenny’.

And we concluded that an average Singaporean’s sexual activity is inhibited by their humble abode.

If you look at the houses that Singaporeans live in generally, you find that it is hard for Singaporeans to procreate. Large families are often cramped into small flats. In the constrains of a pigeon-hole, getting sexually excited is nearly impossible.

First you have to ensure your parents are not at home, then you have to contend with your nosy ah ma. Subsequently, you have to sneak around your sleeping brother who is sharing the bedroom with you. Is it any wonder that hardly any form of romantic overttures happen in the bedroom for a Singaporean couple?

This problem of flat-sharing is exacerbated by the fact that you are required to wait at least 3 years for keys to your new flat. Imagine dating for 2 years. Every date alternates between a movie date, dinner date or shopping date. Most of the time all three-in-one. Your other half essentially becomes your best friend. Your platonic friend. By time you are ready to get married and wait for your flat, you will not even remember how to spell the word sex.

Thoughts of going second base with your girlfriend remains remote as the foreigners descend unabated upon Singapore. A forum even advertises where you can find some isolated place in Singapore to conduct your hanky panky. Sexually speaking, we are really in dire straits.

We can’t touch each other in the cinema (it is too crowded), we can’t touch each other in the car at Changi Beach (some punk will high beam you), we can’t touch each other in the stairway of HDB flats (some bugger will “Stomp” you). And obviously we can’t touch each other at home without incurring the “tsk-tsk” of your conservative elders.

My friend compared the dating experience here with our experience overseas. He said in Australia, where you have your own apartment, you can call a girl back to your apartment after a drink or two. Your housemates will have enough cow sense to leave you alone or make themselves scarce. You pop a DVD, down glasses of red wine and very soon you are all over each other.

Imagine recreating the same experience in Singapore. After a drink or two, you send a girl back expecting more than just a goodbye. Before you enter the flat, her father appears at the doorway. Even if you decide to bring the girl back to your place, the presence of your parents watching the two of you like a hawk turns even a guy on viagra off.

I can safely say that most Singaporeans are prepared to answer the government’s call to proceate. However, with a lack to space to, answering this call is becoming a problem. Yes, SDU is a fantastic organization. You put a bunch of desperate singles together, get them drunk and then what next? You can’t do anything sexual with the girl.

So unless we resolve this housing problem, Singaporeans will forever remain duds in the worldwide sex surveys.

I was ten then. And my Chinese lessons never ended happily.

Besides enduring the painful physical punishments, my class had to tolerate her foul mouth as well.

Back then when teachers had a free reign over the discipline of their students, they were allowed to whack, pinch and scold. And my Chinese teacher did not hold back. She regularly cursed us – with her favourite phrase being “qu si bah” (go and die).

For a kid that age, such an obnoxious attitude from a teacher only hastened the downward spiral. I profess that I was never fond of Chinese. I struggled through my primary school text and laboured through my secondary school composition.

A Chinese lesson for me was meaningless. What I gathered from those painful one hour periods were merely senseless punishments. The cussing and physical punishments got to a state where even the teacher was going through the motions with it.

The English language was regarded as the No 1 enemy. Any text, speeches or even a hint of it will send my teacher hysterical. She literally stared daggers at you if you dared to even squeak our country’s undisputable first language.

I must say it was a horrible and traumatic feeling. I remembered once when I was reading a Hardy Boys novel during her class. I raised my head warily and noticed my teacher focussing entirely on reading aloud her Chinese text. I slowly drew the novel out from my bag and flipped to the last read page. Before I got through the first sentence, my Chinese teacher swooped in like an eagle which just spotted its prey. With her fat fingers, she rip the book out of my hands and shoved it beneath her Chinese textbook. Subsequently, she went back to her monotonous reading while I was left reeling in horror.  

For half a year, I spent my recess standing outside her office to beg her to return the book. The worst part of it all was the book belonged to my friend. During those youthful days, not returning a book to your friend amounted to a severance of friendship. I still blame my Chinese teacher for that today.

When MM Lee apologised last week, I did not feel a sense of justice. No amount of apologies can defuse the trauma which I went through. Instead of coaxing and inspiring, my Chinese teacher frightened and coerced. Such high-handed means normally used by loansharks were definitely out of place in a classroom.

Somehow, I survived Chinese lessons till A levels.

Today I don’t regret learning Chinese one bit. However, I rue over my unfulfilled potential. What if my Chinese teacher had been a tad nicer? What if my Chinese teacher taught more than she punished? Would I have had mastered both languages?

A language should be cultivated and nurtured. Expose a kid long enough to its beauty and he will appreciate. Just like how I was introduced to the wonderful world of the English language through the Bookworm Club and Hardy Boys thrillers, I believe my love for the Chinese language would be alive today should it be given a similar treatment.

It is unfair for MM to stand up alone to apologise to a ‘lost’ generation of Chinese speakers. Former Chinese teachers guilty of such reckless behaviour in the past should come forward to share their side of the story as well. More importantly, the Ministry must step in and ensure that such a failure must never happen again.

A few hours later, Singapore take on Thailand to secure a spot in the Asian Cup 2011 in Qatar.

Now, no offense to the Kiwis. But if a country famed for having more sheep than people can make their first appearance in the World Cup since 1982, what is Singapore doing playing their hearts out just for a place in the Asian Cup?

I propose that Singapore should accelerate their quest for their first appearance in the World Cup finals through requesting for a switch to join the Oceania Group.

Crazy idea? No, hear me out.

I remembered a few years back, New Zealand did play Singapore in a friendly match. Singapore emerged 3-1 victors.

It goes to show how Singapore is just as deserving as New Zealand for a spot in the World Cup Finals.

Ever since Australia left the Oceania group to join the Asian World Cup qualifiers, the group has degenerated into a farce.

You see, the winner of the Oceania group does not guarantee an automatic spot in the World Cup Finals. Instead, the winner is awarded a ‘half spot’ where they have to playoff against a South American team which finishes fifth in qualifying stages to secure a place in the Finals.

And every time a World Cup qualification comes along the way, Australia will invariably emerge victors in the Oceania group, only to fall hopelessly short of qualifying for the Finals because they can’t beat a South American team (think Uruguay).

And when they actually do, the entire southern hemisphere erupts into such euphoria that you actually believe that the Australians are World Cup winners themselves.

So, fed up with such nonsense, Australia decided to bid goodbye to Oceania to join the ranks of the Asia’s best. The chief reason was that they believe it will be easier to qualify for the World Cup Finals through playing against Asian countries. After all, playing the likes of South Korea, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and China is less daunting than the likes of potentially Brazil, Argentina and their eternal foe, Uruguay.

And FIFA actually approved of such audacity from Australia’s part to leave Oceania, all along agreeing that due to Australia’s proximity to Asia, they are entitled to such a privilege.

The gamble did pay off as Australia practically strolled through the qualifiers to become the first country to qualify for the 2010 World Cup.

Now, this is where it gets interesting.

Before Australia was allowed to participate in the Asian qualifiers, they manage to secure FIFA’s permission to allow the winner of the Oceania group to play an Asian qualifying group winner.

Now, the winner of the Oceania group has it easy. No more long jet trips to tropical South America for a game against the Latinos who can dribble and pass better than you.

And who is left in the Oceania group? Realistically, only Australia and New Zealand knew how to play football. And this is down to the sole reason that these two countries have a bigger population. The rest of Oceania comprises of the likes of Samoa, Tonga, Fiji and Soloman Islands??

Remember Soloman Islands? They were whacked by Australia by a world record score of 31-0.

With Australia’s departure, New Zealand now reign supreme in that group.

So, I bet if Singapore does join the Oceania group, they can give New Zealand a harder fight. I believe with Singapore’s current standards, we can achieve a regular playoff spot against the Asian qualifiers.

Besides, if Australia can argue that they are in close proximity to Asia, Singapore can say that they are close to Oceania as well. After all, Singapore is a mere 4 hours flight away from Perth.

Therefore, screw Asia. Singapore isn’t going to even make it pass the pre-qualifiers in this continent.

It is time to head south, bring on the likes of Samoa and New Zealand and hope by the luck of the draw that Thailand would be the Asian team they will be playing off against.

If Singapore still fails, hey, it isn’t that bad. After all, Singapore football officials can argue that we have made great leaps in world football. Their argument will be as follows: We were merely a step away from qualifying for the World Cup Finals.

Sounds sweet doesn’t it?

Before Robbie Keane had any time to reflect on his ambitious pre-match comments, his Tottenham side collapsed in astonishing fashion.

Two quick fire goals left Tottenham chasing an impossible game.

And when in form striker Robin Van Persie added the third, one could sense the boastfulness of Robbie Keane diminishing along with the dissipating Tottenham crowd at the Emirates Stadium.

For good measure, Redknapp started David Bentley, no doubt with the feverish hope that he can reproduce that majestic 40 metres strike which silenced the Gunners’ fans in these two sides’ previous encounter.

Alas, Bentley only had a ferocious free kick in the second half that brought out the acrobat in Almunia.

For much of the game, it was pretty much one way traffic for the Gunners. With Fabregas dominating in the midfield and Van Persie in red hot form, it was certain that a repeat of last season’s 4-4 drama was impossible.

Credit to Tottenham though. They matched Arsenal stride for stride in the first 40 minutes before Van Persie ghosted in behind King to draw first blood for the Gunners.

What followed thereafter was a comical chain of events which culminated in a Fabregas wonder goal. I strongly recommend that Redknapp tape this episode down and hand it on to the next author who wants to write a book on Basic Defending in Football.

It started with a sloppy pass from Palacios and he might as well had gift-wrapped the ball in glossy paper because Fabregas needed no second invitation to weave pass a static Tottenham defence to thump a scorcher pass Gomes.

More comedy ensued after half time when the Tottenham defenders forgot the basic rule of playing to the referee’s whistle. A low cross by Sagna completely eluded the diving Gomes and the lunging King and Van Persie gleefully tucked it away into the empty net.

Indeed it was now well and truly over for this courageous Tottenham side. They have now lost to three of the Top Four – Man Utd, Chelsea and Arsenal.

If Redknapp is serious about turning Tottenham into a Top Four side, he has to rid his team of such mediocrity.

It is not the quality of Tottenham’s players, rather more of lack of ability to step up in a big match that is costing the team both their Top Four status and derby bragging rights.

Yes. You see it right. On the bench last night for Liverpool were as follows: Dossena, Babel, Plessis, Gulacsi, Spearing, Eccleston and Ayala.

If you are wondering who on earth these players are, rest assure. You are not alone.

The more pertinent question here would be, which one of them could have made a difference to last night’s horror show at Craven Cottage?

The awful truth: No one.

For all the column inches that have been written about Benitez’s rotation policy on the pitch, the same must be said about his substitute bench as well.

Liverpool may not have a world class striker in the form of David Ngog. But I am sure he is a better option than Nathan Eccleston.

Daniel Sanchez Ayala may share the same last name as a more illustrious defender whom plied his trade for Valencia before, but that doesn’t mean that they share the same talent. I am pretty sure that Martin Skrtel and Daniel Agger would have agreed.

And let’s not even start on Plessis, Spearing and Babel. They have had their day in the sun but have failed to justify their cause in the famous red jersey.

Benitez reminds me alot of my Football Manager experience. When faced with a long list of injuries, I often dip randomly into my reserves just to fill up my quota of seven substitutes.

And I have a hunch that Benitez thinks exactly like me.

The only difference now is that, Benitez actually had better options than those that he had named on his bench last night.

When he withdrew the tiring Torres last night, the sensible option would have been to introduce Ngog.

Babel in turn could have came on for Benayoun, though removing your only creative spark when chasing a game is akin to waving the white flag during a war.

And to fill the void left by the bumbling Carragher, certainly Srktel or Agger would have been more suitable.

I am not too sure if Benitez sees things in this manner.

Maybe he actually believes that his youngsters can mirror their counterparts over at Arsenal.

I hope  after last night’s shambolic  display, Benitez can actually see that this is not the case.

From the ah sam that sweeps the floor to my boss who doesn’t mince his words. The “workflow chart” is always similar.

Question: Where did you do your degree?

Answer: Australia

Question: Which part?

Answer: Sydney

Question: Where is that??

Answer: Australia

Question: What did you study?

Answer: History, Politics and International Relations

Question (with eyebrows raised this time): Why study that? (What a weird degree!)

Answer: *smiles*

Question: So why not work in Sydney?

1) To put it bluntly, a bloody arts degree with a major in history and politics isn’t going to get me a job. Much less in Australia, where the “art of communication” is in abundance.

Find me an ang moh that can’t express himself lucidly in both words and speech and I will hand you a hundred dollars.

Australia has enough of such “talent”.

They don’t need an Asian (aka me) to join the long queue of unemployed arts graduates.

2) Try living abroad for 3 years by yourself. No one to clean your room, no one to wash your clothes, no one to cook your meals. On top of that, try and secure a distinction for every subject you take.

Ridiculous? My exact sentiments.

Living abroad makes you homesick. I am no mummy’s boy but nothing beats the comfort of your own home.

3) Oh Sydney. A city which I have a love-hate relationship. The pay is so good. The working hours great. The beaches tempting.

But that’s about it. I want to go out in the day without having to worry about the biting cold that will ensue in the night. I want to go out and pay $3 for a meal and not 10, 15 dollars. I want to eat my hokkien mee when I feel like it.

Enough said.

4) The last and most important reason? Singapore is my homeland and I want to remain loyal to my country.

Cliche?

At least I die knowing that I have given Australia a chance but it can’t offer me a life better than what I currently have in Singapore.

I didn’t come into this theatre expecting this movie to be a tear-jerker. I had no assume knowledge of the storyline as I haven’t read the book by Jodi Picoult.

So I came into this movie with hardly any expectations, saving for that of seeing Cameron Diaz going from a babe in Charlie’s Angels to a mum in My Sister’s Keeper.

The storyline played out slowly. You would not have expected this to be a tragic tale from the outset.

Yes, I did know that one member in that Fitzgerald family had cancer. Then it was quickly flashed out that one of the girls would pawn her “14 carat gold” pendant to sue her parents for “medical emancipation.”

Now, if you haven’t read the book, no one can take to understanding such legal and medical definitions from the outset.

Even till now, as I write this piece, I have no idea what acute promyelocytic leukemia (APL) means or what it entails. I know it is some form of cancer, judging from the bald heads that its victims spotted .

But throughout the movie, I only know that if your white blood cell count is low, it may lead to this.

And that is the beauty of this movie. It is touches the audience with its simplicity.

Despite starting of with so many technical jargons, the director knew its limits and eventually shifted the focus to the human tragedy involved.

The gist of it all? Kate Fitzgerald has cancer and doctors say the only way is for the parents to conceive another child, specifically for the purpose of acting as a donor to Kate. Thus, Anna was born. Anna, pissed off with the fact that her body is used as a farm for organ transplant takes the issue up to court. She employs tough talking Campbell “91 percent” Alexander to be her lawyer and takes her mum to court.

There is a twist to this. And the usual ingredients of sex, love, tragedy and death correctly falls into line throughout this movie.

Besides knowing that I can now sue my parents in America, this movie did move me close to tears.

When Kate sat on her hospital bed and flipped through her scrapbook while reminiscing about the past, it was the cue to tear.

I cannot promise that this movie will stay true to the book. Going by experience, most movies don’t anyway if they want to draw a sizable box office.

But it doesn’t matter.

My Sister’s Keeper is certainly one to keep. A straight out winner.

Passion Vs Money.

I thought I could live on passion. Heck, just enjoy doing what I am doing and money will follow.

Well, at least that is what the purists will tell you.

In reality, the issue of money hangs like an albatross and at times it grips you by the throat – so hard that you wake up with cold sweat dripping from your forehead.

I believe absolutely in the fact that you have to wake up to a job that you love. The spring in your step, the shine in your eyes and the enthusiasm to tackle the day’s challenges is invaluable.

After all, you spend half of your life chained to your work desk. The last thing that you need is a job that is more boring than watching the paint dry.

Yet, money speaks volumes in the society that we live in today. From repaying that education loan, to buying a new house, that posh car, to little things like having the depth in your pockets to accommodate that one more fancy meal at a restaurant – money is a necessity.

Not enough of this necessary evil and your life whirls out of control. Regardless of how much passion you have for a job.

As my now ex-colleague explained to me: “If the HR tells you that you can live on passion, tell her fuck you understand. Who is going to pay for my house, car and marriage?”

I ended my short stint as a reporter last Friday. A job that I dreamed about for months. A job which I had a privilege to do for a total of 3 months and 1 week.

I burst the bubble of my dream because of money.

But I am no money face. I just wanted basic working rights, a bit more money, just some sort of remuneration for a hard day at work.

I just want to feel that I am worth it. I do not want to be  like some cheap prostitute who spreads her legs for anyone who has some spare change in their pockets.

What is wrong with that? I am not asking for heaven and earth. Just enough for me to justify that my passion does have its rewards as well.

But I can’t be promised that. Not now and not in the near future.

With that I walked out. To a grass patch that is greener, more secure, where the sun does shine and a promise of a bountiful harvest.

My editor said: “Remember that passion is what will keep you going in life.”

How apt. Passion did keep me going for a week.

Till reality checked in and a new offer came. The amount so obscene that I hyperventilated when I saw it.

I finally realized something: I am no mercenary. But I need fuel to have fire in my belly.

The result? A surge in disgruntled fans, frustrations all round and a headache to decide how a new set top box can fix smugly into the home’s current furniture setting.

This new bidding war is incredible. It defies the logic of economics. That subject teaches you that when there is competition, the consumer benefits. Not so in this case.

Singaporeans are caught in a unique situation where a monopoly is actually better. For so long, Singaporeans have put up with the escalating costs of satellite football. The chief reason, given by the sole provider Starhub was that, the rights to telecast football matches have increased.

With the arrival of a new competitor in the form of Singtel’s Mio TV, both competitors are upping the ante by trying to outbid each other to attain the rights to broadcast the EPL to Singaporeans.

In a winner takes all competition, naturally, the highest bidder wins. The result is yet another inevitable rise to the current sky high prices of satellite football.

Now Singaporeans are a docile lot. We are an affluent nation with a considerable amount of spending power. This, together with a local football league that creates more entertainment off the pitch than on it, creates a situation where we don’t have much alternatives to our late night addiction to English football.

I mean, what else can we do on a Saturday night? Choices are often limited to drinking yourself silly at a club, watching some Hollywood actor blast his way into stardom on the big screen and watching football.

Take away the last option and I suspect most Singaporeans will find themselves no better than drones.

Football is our lifeblood but that doesn’t mean that we can be taken hostage by it.

While many Singaporean football fans will rip off their shirts and threaten to cut off their cable TV subscription now, it will not be a surprise to see a massive take up of Singtel’s Mio TV come August next year.

After all, the consequences of cancellation will be akin to cutting the umbilical cord to a foetus. None of us will stop supporting our Chelseas, Liverpools, Arsenals, and Man Us just because football has now migrated to another provider.

However, the buck has to stop somewhere. Singaporeans cannot be taken for a ride forever just because some aspiring executive in Singtel or Starhub wants to earn a promotion.

Much as either competitor want to provide quality entertainment, they cannot do it at the expense of the pockets of Singaporeans. Now, Singtel is riding on a dangerous wave. They believe that Singaporeans are hooked to English football the way smokers are chained to cigarettes.

This illusionary bubble will burst one day and the fallout may hurt both Singtel and Starhub.

A good business model makes provisions for a change in taste and preferences.

A love for EPL today may be gone tomorrow.

While Singaporeans may tolerate this harmful price war for now, they may not do so forever.

The two media giants must realize some rules in economics just don’t change. For one, the concept of demand and supply will stick around.

To quote Ris Low, a failure to respect this rule will mean the business plan will go ‘boomz’.