This time it’s not about some whacky rugby tournament. Not about the cuts and bruises, the stud mark below my left eye. Not even about the crunching sound of a perfect tackle. Ah, all small potatoes.

Now, it should be more subtle, wickedly subtle. The blow I would get is when answering the questions. Yes, the damn old, tricky, difficult, mind-boggling questions. If this is going to be my second, I should remind myself of my first ever work interview, about two and a half years ago. First question from the interviewer, “Can you start work next week?

Damn it! What experience do I have in these kinds of things?

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