Dream, July 23, 2025

Today’s dream was, once again, way too good. I dreamed I came up against Kunlavut Vitidsarn at an international tournament. Right off the bat I made a whole string of errors. Then my soul left my body, and by the time I snapped out of my daze, I’d already lost the match. I looked at the screen: I’d lost the first game 4–12. ??? How did it end before anyone got to 21? Had I retired injured? But no, that can’t be right—the second game was already at 11–18. And hold on, why did I lose straight away at 11–18 too???? There were still 3 points to go! I marched up to the umpire’s chair and loudly demanded an explanation, but got nowhere. A helpful spectator nearby said something about the format being different, which I didn’t understand at all. Just then Chen Long walked over, patted me on the shoulder, and told me consolingly that I’d played really well. I started ranting to Long-ge (“Brother Long”): Kunlavut, a superstar? Please, he’s never even beaten Long-ge! Long-ge wasn’t having it: “What do you mean, never even beaten me?!” I hurried to explain: it’s because your technique, your mentality and your fitness are all so rock-solid, Long-ge, that in my mind you’ve always been the touchstone for who counts as a true superstar! Long-ge laughed heartily at that, threw an arm around my shoulders, and we strolled off toward the side of the court together. Suddenly I noticed that Long-ge was incredibly warm—standing next to him was like being inside a little stove. So this is the metabolic rate of a top athlete? Then it hit me that I still had some of the ribs I’d been using to play the match, and Long-ge could have a taste! So I went back to the umpire to ask for them. The umpire regretfully informed me that the ribs had all been used up during the match against Kunla. (In the dream, it seemed every attack cost one piece of braised pork rib.) I said indignantly, “Hmph! Well, that little piglet Kunla sure made out like a bandit!” Long and I kept walking toward the locker room. But in a haze, I glimpsed another me, in another timeline, out having dinner with friends. The me in this timeline, though, was with Long-ge. I looked at the bowl in my hands; there seemed to be a few ribs left. I wondered whether to offer Long-ge a taste, but then again, offering him leftovers might not be very polite.