Children...

1996 was the year I handle children in a professional manner. It was my first attachment to a primary school, and as a Trainee Teacher, I was supposed to impact and influence them in the most positive manner. I struggled, tried and erred...

I remembered that it was raining very heavily, and my supervisor from NIE was supposed to evaluate me teaching these Pri 1 children basketball. There was a slight problem though. It was an old, worn-down school and their facilities were totally integrated! Integrated as in canteen-hall-badminton court combined. And since it was raining that fateful day, the canteen-hall-badminton court-parents' waiting area was, er, were, whatever, full of people. So, I have 4 other teachers with 4 other classes having their P.E lessons, canteen vendors washing the floor, parents waiting for their precious ones, armed with umbrellas and raincoats, slippers and maids. In the midst of this pandemonium, you have yours truly shouting at the top of his voice, trying to impress the 'ang moh' sitting behind, who is obviously anything but impressed! Just as things couldn't get any worse, it happened! In slow motion, I saw the ball being hurled out, flying through the air and landing on the nose!

Gasps of air being inhaled could be heard as everybody focused their attention on the bloody scene. By now, red could be seen all over the boy's face. Thankfully, the other teacher offered to help by bringing the boy for first aid treatment in the admin office, while I called up the parents. They were very understanding and didn't blame me for their son's bloody encounter with the basketball. My supervisor, the 'ang moh' was not so merciful. He 'crucified' me with his evaluation and needless to say, my first teaching assessment was a failure! I mean, what did he expect me to do? With such retro facilities and equipment (he said the basketball was too big and heavy for Pri 1, but the next option was the 5kg medicine ball!). And he had to visit and evaluate me on that day when nothing turned up right!

I moved on from there. Perfecting my 'killer-stare' look that is to be used on kids who have crossed the line. My line, that is. 4 years as a General Education Officer (MOE's term for a teacher) had seen my experience with these young ones increase by leaps and bounds. 'Remote-control' is the next step. This feat requires the teacher to look and stare, at a distance of 5m or more, and the kids will obediently and quietly make their way towards the teacher without any unnecessary movement. It takes practice but with patience and proper guidance, the rewards of 'killer-stare' and 'remote-control' are great.

1998. I was handed the Basketball team. Consisting of a motley-crue of kids, I transformed them into a dream team that got 2nd in the West Zone mini-basketball tournament. The trick was to be their friend and pal outside, strict disciplinarian and coach during training. One boy, however, stuck in my mind.

Eddie was Pri 4 when I first came across him. He was very skinny, bespectacled and barely 1m tall. You'd have thought that he was still in Kindergarten or Pri 1. He came for the Basketball selections, and everybody laughed. But, boy how he dribbled and got pass the other bigger boys! And the way he commanded the other players! I knew I had a gem.

Pre-match competition trainings consisted of 50 lay-ups, chest passes using medicine balls, runs around the school compound and Saturdays would see the entire Basketball team on the school bus en route to Bt Timah hill for our weekly run. That's right, the boys didn't climb Bt Timah, they ran up Bt Timah!

Eddie was the natural team leader. Despite his physical stature, he was always the fastest and fittest. Cheering the team on, encouraging them and rebuking those who were not concentrating on the game. My job was made so much easier, Phil Jackson and Michael Jordon, Sir Alex and Roy Keane, coach and captain. Our partnership lasted 2 years. In those times, I saw the world through his eyes, and he, through mine.

It was his thyroid gland. It had malfunction, thereby restricting his growth process. Even though, Eddie ate a lot and did lots of exercises, it would have no effect on his physical growth. However, that wasn't his only problem. His parents were both absent from his life, and his elderly grandmother took full responsibility of him. His father was in drug rehab, and his mother had run away with another man in search of a better tomorrow.

I always told him that it was a privilege for me to mentor him. Indeed, he was a very self-motivated player. The love that he had for the sport was undeniable. But his Achilles' heel was in his studies. I would very often find myself throwing my hands up in exasperation, trying to tutor him. But no matter, he would always say, I'd be a Basketball coach when I grow up, and all these Maths problem sums would be of no use to me then. What would follow next would be me scolding him for talking rubbish, and then telling him off, saying that he would starve to death if he depended on Basketball. "For your info, there's no NBA in Singapore!" I'd affirm him. Well, he would continue to challenge me on local sporting issues, very often resulting in me losing my head. He was a tester for my threshold of patience.

2000. It was the turn of the millennium, and also the turn of my life. Eddie graduated from primary school and I left the teaching profession...

I saw him when he was in secondary school. I think it was in the MRT. Still standing at 1.2m, still holding a basketball in his hands, he was telling me excitedly how he got in the school team. Next week was the semi-finals, and if they win it, they would be in the West Zone 'C' Div Finals! That fire of passion was still in his eyes.

The other day, I was jogging on the treadmill in gym when he called. I pressed the 'stop' button, when he identified himself as Eddie over the phone. He had just finished his army (he was given a clerical post due to his medical condition) and he is taking his basketball coaching test. He has been attached to a few secondary schools, and will be a certified coach soon. I asked him how he knew my number. He said that he was going through some old records and he came across my number. He continued to say that he has passed his practical coaching test, and will officially register as a basketball coach by the end of this year. His dream had come to pass. Heartily, I congratulated him. For a moment, an image of a 1m-tall boy, dribbling pass defenders and commanding his fellow players on the basketball court, flashed across my mind. His love and passion for basketball permeated through the phone and into my soul.

The next day was my off-day. I took out my basketball shoes, inflated my basketball and went to the basketball court. I finished 50 lay-ups, shot 3-pointers and penalties... In the midst of it all, Eddie's image stayed with me.