Badminton Tournament. As always, it was full of Drama (opposing views/bickering). Defeat, humiliation, and then the inevitable phase: justification. Because it happens only once a year, everyone was in a festive mood, just like me. A bunch of "young Turks" who considered themselves champions-in-the-making thought they could easily grab the trophy by teaming up, analyzing everyone else’s strengths and weaknesses, and masterminding a quick win. A bit of buildup... Thinking "let’s show them," I even wore a sleeveless jersey. I hoped the non-existent muscles would at least intimidate the opponents—but nothing happened. We were crushed from all eight sides. In the blink of an eye, it was game over. Then came the post-mortem analysis. We were at 19-19—how did we lose? Was it the pressure? Or was it just our own poor play? Well, you reap what you sow. Across the net, the "great warriors" were leaping and smashing away. To add to the flair, the Morning Group showe...
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