While not a particularly competitive individual myself, anyone who has ever witnessed me jumping up and down during a basketball game knows that I am all for the spectacle of it. Last Friday night was a bit of a disaster for me in terms of fatigue, set off by gyrating amongst the sweaty minions at Star Live for the Yen White Party, then making it over to Block 8 for some champagne and an interview with the ever-instigating Henry Li. It was a long night.

I spend the majority of Saturday's daylight hours in a crumpled heap upon my friend's couch, return home for some work, errands, and telephone calls, then promptly fall back asleep, only to awaken at nearly 1 AM. At such an obscene hour, there is only one place to go. I shower, put on some lipstick and my most absurd-looking attire (a polka dot minidress, fishnets, go-go boots, and a smirk), and hop in a cab to Syndicate vs. BaiCai at White Rabbit. The rivalry between drum'n'bass and tech-house is one I observe with ever-studious journalistic fervor, so when my shifu asks bewildered why on earth I'm carrying a yellow-and-black striped road cone and an enormous napa cabbage to my Lucky Street destination, I tell him that I'm a reporter covering a competition, and that these are the magical talismans for both teams. As I'm paying the fare, the poor man begs me with a look of horror not to drink anymore.

Former CW Nightlife Editor Lee Mack's theory on the outcome of Beijing's own Jets and Sharks going at it is that whoever plays the White Room at White Rabbit no doubt wins. However, he hasn't seen the newly-renovated top floor Live Room. The place, unbelievably, actually looks a bit sophisticated and roomier, with the DJ booth poised conveniently in the corner and the tables set off by the stairs to provide a more expansive dancefloor, and a brand-new ventilation system that will hopefully stave off the feeling that one has been rolling around in an ashtray after a night at the club. Yang Bing laughs when I ask him if he consulted a feng shui specialist for the redesign.

First impressions aren't just important; they are everything. With the top floor of the Rabbit looking so good, more of the clientele lingers up there, and the dancefloor explodes time and time again, with even tried and true techno-heads staying a bit longer, bottles of champagne being popped open, and one of the best sets I've heard DJ Blackie play in ages, throughout which TimeOut's Ross Goulding and I dance like maniacs for what seems to be hours. When I bump into BaiCai marketing manager and booker-extraordinaire Maxime Bureau, I offer an imaginary microphone in the form of my fist and request a formal concession speech. With downcast eyes but an expression of hope for the future, he admits that not everyone can win every time.

Until the next round in April, gentlemen. May the best team rise to victory.