Uncle Teoh Siam Pun

Here we are, in the middle of the week, or somewhere near it.

I am glad to say that it has not been a total sappy, crappy week of sorts. I had various activities to fill up my time, not with friends of course, but reasonably nice people.

Accompanied Dad to Penang yesterday, and I dropped by college to visit some mates. The atmosphere was still rather lax, or carefree, and holiday is still hanging in the air. I had lunch with those who still can find their way to campus and caught up on the latest news. One of our lecturers is going to leave the college and everyone was fumbling about what to do next. It was great to be able to see everybody again. I am, once more, looking forward to starting a student's life, or rather college life. Holidays is good and all, but it gets pretty dried up when the focus is entirely on one self and one only.

Three things happened on a same day.

My uncle and teacher and coach.

It was Lucas's birthday, and he went to school to find the above banner. Finally, it's time for dear Third Uncle to retire (I mistakenly said resigning in my text message to him. Duh... >< ) . And on his own birthday too.

I cannot help but, once again, relapsing into reminiscence after his retirement. I still remember him playing ping pong with my seniors, and he was at the top of his game and on top of them all. That was the first sight to greet me when I stepped into the training room, and it inspired me. I remember the comfortable feeling of seeing one familiar adult face among the battalion of strange teachers; not exactly a strict parent face, but just someone I know I can turn to in times of dire need and emergency. I remember calling him 'Sir' for the first, making a mental note to address him in that formal way in school, while calling him 'Third Uncle' outside of school.

He used to be my English teacher when I was Form 2, and my Maths teacher when I was Form 1. I got into a bitter argument about some silly spacing with one of my classmates, and he diffused the situation skilfully. His teaching, supplemented by his mild and jovial character, brought life into the classroom. The guys loved him, and he used to let us listen to a few of his collection songs if we were good enough. I think I got one of my first exposure to golden oldies through him, Air Supply being one of them.

As a coach, he was observant and always demanding for his players to perform to the best of their ability. He was aware of the pressure, both external and internal, and he endured through all of them stoically. Coming late in the evenings, he will take on each of us, and that period of time will be the highlight of my day. Getting to beat him in one of the best of seven series was definitely something to brag about! Coach always gives compliments, during and after the game. When we were in a fierce rally, and one of us (usually me) made an offensive move, his face would lit up, eyes popped open in a delirious manner and mouth twitching. He would that looked at me and say that my stroke is getting better, and I would relish in that moment, with friends watching. The game would continue.

I imagined that Sir, Coach, Uncle, three in one, would be happily sitting in front of his television, enjoying retirement. He would not be forgotten for a while, but eventually his memories will fade away, and younger students will hear him no more, especially when Lucas leaves the school. What's I am going to say may sound trite, but a part of this person, teacher and coach, will always remain in the school fabric.