"Bat of Damocles"

The warriors of hall IV unite again this day to battle once more for the pride and glory of Ohmers.. this time its on the softball field.

This morning, the sword of damocles hung perilously over our heads. Having lost 13-8 in the previous round against hall 3, this match against hall 13 would potentially send us swirling down to the bottom end of the competition. There was no doubt, we had to win here to salvage any chance of recovering from our wounded pride.

Having trained and preped this time round, our players were looking good. We had the aura of champions. It really felt like we could win this.

But the start of the game was horrifying. It seemed like a spell was cast to make lame our arms and feet. Our batters left the field one after another 'struck out'. This was a dangerous moment. our score was a flat zero!

The turn came for hall 13 to strike. Emblazoned on the back of our opponents was the word, 'Triskaidekaphobic', meaning 'having a fear for the number 13' and concidentally, this day was a friday. Suddenly, the skies appeared gloomier than before and the ohmers felt a sudden chill graze their spines.

Amidst the gloom, a solitude figure stood adamant on the center field. Without our star pitcher, David, our replacement, Paul, had taken over the reins. The pressure building up within him must have been overwhelming. He must know that he was the only hope left.

Phobia soon turned into superstition. Paul was a miracle! Ball after ball hit the black part of the home base, sending the opposing players back where they came from. It almost appeared like he was possessed.

However, while our confidence was slowly amassing, 1 ball connected with the opponent's bat and flew right up. Our breathing suddenly ceased.

When the ball landed solidly, the Triskaidekaphobics stopped died in their tracks. Our catcher, Johnson, held the ball high up in his raised glove, tongue in cheek and smiling.

The score was now 0-0.

Having had a second chance, our players burnt with spirit. We attacked ferociously, scoring hits after hits. One such brilliant hit was from our president, Gary. His bat brought our players running back home.

A deliciously looking score now reflected in our eyes, 11-0. We were clearly victorious.

Not unexpectedly, the end score was 11-3. Good game, Ohmers!

-Ngoh Chun Rong