Lost again. You lie down on the table, panting like a dead dog. The stadium is empty and you are left here, alone. The plastic smell of the racket is disgusting, you feel a cramp in your stomach, you're about to throw up. People like Hoshino who skip class every day can dominate the stadium, how about you? You just lie down on the table, panting like a dead dog. Ping pong is a fucking fart, sad for a ball the size of an egg, stupid! "I quit!" You take off your training suit, throw away your racket, put on a floral shirt, put on a peaked cap, and become a happy hippie. You don't have to train so hard, you hang around, you're so happy, and you've got a lovely girlfriend. You find that there are too many fun and delicious things in the world, and you have to make up for everything you missed. You are happy every day, like being drunk. Fuck, it's cool, I've lived in vain before. You've never been so easy, you're driving, you're taking your girlfriend, the wind blows your hair, the road is flat and straight, and the Cotai Strip leads to a happy paradise. The dizzying days exploded like fireworks every day until one day. One day, you inexplicably turned on a familiar road, your feet led you, and timidly stepped onto the steps that you have stepped on thousands of times before, the stadium is still busy, the brothers are still fighting, the ball is flying back and forth, An annoying noise. When they see you, they greet you with a big laugh, while watching the nervous push in their hands. You wave your hand, signaling them to practice first. Your former position has long been taken by someone else, as if you had never been here. Your nose is sore, and you hurried to the toilet. Your girlfriend chased after you and asked if you had a stomachache. You dare not look back, you use your back to say: Men go to the toilet not necessarily because of stomach pain. Stay here, I'm going to cry for a while.
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