Passing Fancy

From: The Book of Mario

Yep, another basketball story…

Entering our final year of high school, many members of our Aloy’s group chose to play basketball. Being our final season, we were out for more fun, rather than playing seriously.

Well Sam and I were, anyway.

During the team selection process, everybody had to play a game. Teachers and designated Team Captains then chose who would be suitable members, bearing on their skill.

Somewhere in the middle of the game, I led a two on one fast break, down the right hand side of the court.

The defender stood still, just above the key.

I dribbled even faster towards him.

I jumped into him, spun and attempted a behind-the-back pass to my teammate, who was on the left side.

I was called for a travel.

The ball had lodged itself between my passing arm and my curvaceous profile.

 
Tipped Off

From: The Book of Willie

In retrospect, the compulsory sporting program in our school did more than eat up half our weekend and two afternoons. It made us get off our asses and participate in extracurricular activities, which we would otherwise never do. It kept us active, competitive and entertained.

Many in the Aloy’s group chose to play basketball as their Summer sport. There are lots of stories associated with our basketball capers. But this particular one is perhaps the most revered.

After a loose ball call, the Aloy’s team retreated to the bench for a timeout. 20 seconds passed and the players were back on the court. A jump ball was then called to resume play.

The ball was thrown.

The ball is tipped towards Willie.

Willie catches it, and moves towards the ring.

He takes the shot.

It goes in.

His teammates get angry at him.

He realizes that he had just scored on his own basket.

 
Licensed to Laugh

From: The Book of Ivan

One of the immediate problems the Aloy’s group faced after leaving high school was the age gap. All group members were only separated by one year. But it was the one year that did count. The social line between adults and minors was drawn across the group. But it did not matter. We were always shrewd enough to get around it.

But there’s always an exception.

One night, during the limbo period between the end of high school and start of university, Ivan, Willie and Justin made their way into Bar Ace. Upon entering the premises, the three men were asked to show proof of their age.

Ivan, lost – “I’m sorry, I don’t have my License on me.”

Bouncer, kindly – “That’s fine mate. How old are ya?”

Ivan, even more lost – “Err…”

(Pause)

Ivan, light bulb on his head - “18.”

Bouncer, unconvinced – “Sorry mate.”

What’s in a name?

From: The Book of Sam

University presented to our group many new opportunities that would seemingly enhance our chances of ‘getting some’. Being a group of guys, from a guys school, we were easily misled into thinking that the prime time for such action would happen at Asian Dance parties. This was probably due to the fact that Sung Hi Lee advocated ninety percent of these.

*Yum*

One of the more memorable Asian Dance parties was held in One World Sport, early in our first semester of University. By this stage our group had a fair idea of what to expect from the girls that went to these parties. Yet surprisingly, not many had dared do anything about it.

This was all about to change.

As I was dancing to Montell Jordan’s ‘This is how we do it’ my eyes began scanning the club. I immediately noticed a girl who was dancing with her friends.

She was so cute.

Two or three more songs passed, though my eyes never left their circle. What made me even more intrigued was the fact that her group was completely female.

Sam, yelling in my ear - “What are you looking at?”

Me, yelling in his ear and pointing – “She’s not bad, eh?”

Sam, checking her out – “Yeh, I like the one in the white better.”

I looked at the group and saw who Sam was eyeing.

Diagnosis – Delicious.

Me, yelling in his ear again – “Go chat her up!”

Sam, confident – “Ok…”

I watched Sam weave through several dancing circles, and straight to the girl in white. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I felt a sense of happiness and pride. I’d never seen him go for a random spade. I thought to myself that this could get interesting.

Hmmm…

Weird. Within 30 seconds he was heading back to our circle. It was hard to read his thoughts.

Me, confused – “What happened? What did she say?”

Sam – “Well I asked her for her name…”

Me, excited – “And…?”

Sam, disheartened – “She said she didn’t have one.”

 
Red Light Special

From: The Book of Willie

One of my favourite perks with being a member of the Aloy's group is the free counseling sessions. It's evident that our group members are quite supportive of each other. Especially when times go rough. And especially when they involve the opposite sex.

In the years our group has been together, we have discovered numerous spots around Sydney to call our home for such discussions. For example: the G-spots - one, two and three; Star City, Cador's, 7-Eleven, Kenta and of course, Sam Lau's penthouse.

I don't know why this particular case took place in the heart of King's Cross...

I recall one of the funnier moments in Aloy's counseling history...

The infant stages of Willie’s relationship with Sammi were fairly turbulent. By the time it reached 4 months, trouble seemed to loom. The Aloys' group wisdom was needed to counsel poor Willie. Justin and I were there.

As we were strolling down the main strip of King's Cross, Willie was completely convinced that all his relationship trauma with Sammi could be solved by seeing one person: a prostitute. Willie being Willie, it made it quite hard for us to judge whether he was joking or serious.

It was safest to take him seriously...

Justin and I tried our best to persuade him from such a stupid notion. Justin and I also tried our best not to laugh at such a stupid notion, but Charles was hell-bent on paying for sex that night. We intercepted Willie in every turn of his mission. Eventually, the swift bastard led us into the abyss behind Hungry Jack's.

Willie pointed to a house. A wicked smile was drawn on his face. The house had all it's windows closed, like all the neighbouring houses in the dark road. But with one difference...

Me, perplexed - "What the fuck are you pointing at?"

Willie, proud - "Mate... Look!"

Me, still perplexed - "Huh?..."

Willie, still proud - "Red light."

At this point I felt it best to stop pursuing him. It was futile. He's a big boy, he can make his own choices. He jogged up to the front door and stood there, as if waiting for me to follow him.

As I drew closer, I took more notice of the prominent red light, advertising the house as a surgery.

 
I need H-E-L-P

From: The Book of Mario

Who could forget my classic Audi 100? This was a car to remember, for all the wrong reasons. It housed spiders. It had excessive body rust. Its brakes couldn't stop the car from 60km/h onwards. Its steering alignment was warped. It's exhaust sounded more like a broken rattle. It was my first car.

One night the Aloy's group decided to rendezvous at Turramurra station. An emergency meeting was being held; the subject, which park were we going to rip up. After discussing the pros and cons of each of the suspect schools in the area, we came to an agreement that Turramurra High would be a good bet.

As we disbanded into separate cars, I was mystified as to why my car would not start. We drew on all the technical expertise our group could muster. At the time this was very limited. The bonnet was lifted up, everyone having a peek. I'm certain nobody knew what to look for, or what to say, but machoistic behaviour was definitely playing a role here. We all tried to bull shit each other; after all we were young guys and we know cars.

Luckily, an NRMA patrol car drove by. We waved it aside. The technician took one look in the engine bay.

"What's wrong with it?"
"It won't start."
"Go inside and try starting it for me."
"Ok."

I put the key in and turned it. The engine didn't even shudder, or try to. It was dead cold. I thought to myself that this would be a costly repair job.

I handed the keys to the technician as he stepped inside the car for closer examination.

Two seconds later…

"You can't start the car in Drive."

Needless to say, I was quite embarrassed.

 
A New Beginning...

After another pointless night out Kevin, Justin and I found ourselves in familiar 3-in-the-morning-ish territory, Strathfield 7-Eleven. Upon rediscovering the wonders of Powerade (red is the best, by the way) from the convenient store fridge our conversation dived into the depths of nostalgia.

It was amazing how much we remembered from our high school days. Even more amazing was the feeling it brought out amongst us, it was evident those days will forever be cherished. Justin's suggestion of logging those days has led me to create this blog, The Aloy's Chronicles - The Old Testament.

In this blog I would like to focus on those days, so that we will never forget. This will be a collective blog, and I will need input from every member of our group, for we all remember different things from our past.

Remember the time...