Right Up Your Alley: The Pilgrimage of Roy Cox

A trickle of sweat drips down Roy Cox’s brow as he takes the last long drag of his rolled cigarette. He butts it, like the thousands he had butted before, then points out to the crowd of screaming fans- the same way John Travolta did when he danced in Greece. Roy stopped to stare into Charlie's eyes. It was the stare that one mate does to another when he knows that this could be the most important moment of his life.

Charlie looks straight back, forgetting about the wrongs Roy had done and silently mouthed “You got this!”, but Roy already knew that. He strokes his moustache with two fingers then turns on the heel of his foot. It’s time.

Roy picks up his old friend Sherel, the purple bowling ball that had got him this far. He gives her a kiss and looks down the alley, past the shiny polished floorboards, to the 10 white pins sitting patiently. As if they were waiting to be demolished by her. Never did Roy imagine that bowling would have taken the world by storm the way it had, or that he would be riding that storm to the top...

3 Years Earlier

Roy opened his bright blue eyes to the blurred vision of the discoloured, stained pink walls of a cheap Laotian hotel. The bed underneath him was hard and the mysterious bug bites on his back told their own story. The rice wine from last night had left a dull ache inside his skull. He could hear the shower running, and thought to himself “What's going on here?”. He takes a deep breath and chokes on it. It takes him back to 14 years old, coughing as he inhaled the toxic grey smoke from his first cigarette.

The shower suddenly turned off, and the beautiful European backpacker he spotted checking in just the day before emerged. In a quiet and soothing voice, she said "Good Morning Roy...".

Roy squinted his eyes and let out a chuckle, the same chuckle he had done in all awkward situations since he was a young boy. He then confidently replied, "Good Morning...uh...Maria".

The woman scoffed and replied, “My name’s not Maria!”. She shook her head and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. He laid there for a moment with the smell of cigarettes filling the small room. He dug deep inside his faded memories to remember the women he had just done the dirty with. He could only recall a few glimpses and the sound of the people in the neighbouring room aggressively banging on the wall telling them to keep it down.

“Bloody good night, I reckon.” He says to himself.

Roy mustered the strength to stumble to the bathroom. In the mirror stood the reflection of a stocky 24-year-old with long unkempt hair, a chiselled jawline and a moustache that even Magnum P.I. would be envious of. He felt rough, but damn he looked good. He knew that he had to get out of his room to recover from the night before, but he wanted to avoid an angry “Maria” in the common room. Roy quickly put on his clothes, which consisted of the same pair of grey board shorts he had been wearing for two weeks and a white shirt that wasn’t so white anymore. His t-shirt would typically be clean back home in Australia, but not a Southeast Asian city full of smog and motorbikes. When it comes to t-shirts, Roy only wears white. It goes with everything.

Narrowly avoiding the lobby, Roy stepped onto the street. First, a wave of humidity hit him, followed quickly by the distinct smell. It was a musky smell of Asian spices mixed with the city sewage. It has always been a smell that he loved, the reason being he felt free when travelling in Southeast Asia- and the cities always smelt the same. He stumbled his way down a narrow alley past crooked windows and the bickering shop owners. He was on the hunt for street food- his go-to hangover cure.

Roy looked like a giant as he sat down on a child-size plastic stool. He scoffed down a bowl of noodles in a matter of minutes, sweating as he did as a teen playing cricket in the harsh Australian sun. While watching the motorbikes and tuk-tuks race past on the unpaved street, he noticed something that resembled the top of a giant bowling pin protruding from the distant treetops. He quickly paid for his breakfast and out of curiosity, crossed the chaotic street. Weaving in and out of the traffic, he eventually made it to the other side.

Behind the trees stood a large rundown building with a huge bowling pin balanced on its roof. The door screeched as he pried it open. He made his way down the dark corridor and into a smoke-filled bowling alley. “Shit yeah!”, he howled.

It was like stepping back in time. The alley was worn but had its charms. The speakers were distorted as they played loud Laotian pop music. To the left, there were 3 boisterous men bowling and enjoying a few beers even though it was still morning. Roy was very impressed and followed suit by ordering himself one at the bar. Strike after strike, the men launched their balls down the alley like bullets. These guys were good.

Roy went over to the rack that housed the balls, or at least what was left of them. They created a patchwork of colours and sizes. Only a few looked like they were still up to the task of knocking down pins. Roy spotted a purple ball. Minus a few scratches, it was in almost perfect condition. It seemed to be calling to him. He picked it up, and at that moment something magical happened. Something he couldn't explain. So, he proceeded to reach for his beer, had a swig, and forgot about it completely.

He took his first shot. He didn’t expect much as it had been ten years or so since he last played. He took a few steps and let the ball go. With the perfect amount of spin, it crashed into the pins. It was a strike, making the locals glance over. Good start, he thought. He followed with two more strikes. Roy laughed and said smoothly “Just like that”.

The boisterous men began to take notice when Roy finished his game with a score of 142. While he was grabbing another drink, one of the men called out to him.

"Hey man, you want to play game?" One of the men shouted from across the alley in broken English.

Excited with the offer, Roy replied "Sure mate, I'll be right over."

He picked up his purple ball and wandered to their lane. His feet peeled off the soggy carpet with each step.

The first man introduced himself as Charlie. He looked strangely like a Laotian version of Charlie Sheen. It was uncanny. He had the same hair and facial features- he even spoke like him but in a broken English kind of way. Roy couldn't believe it and said "Has anyone ever told you that-" before he could finish the sentence, Charlie laughed and said, “Yes, that's where the name came from".

The next man introduced himself as Koa. Koa was quite a round man with a black pencil moustache. He spoke in a relaxed tone and was draped in what looked like fake gold jewellery. The third man, Bob, was more of a boy. He was full of energy, had a clean undercut, and a mouth full of perfect pearly whites.

Weeks later, after countless bowling games and piles of empty beer bottles, the boys had trained Roy and showed him what an art 10-pin bowling actually was. Charlie had asked if Roy would be interested in joining the team for a tournament. Being a backpacker, Roy didn’t have too much going on, so of course, he agreed. Charlie and the boys had ignited something inside him, something he hadn't felt before. Maybe all the mistakes he had made in his life had led him here.

The day of the tournament had arrived. The boys loaded themselves and their luggage into Koa’s small yellow hatchback. It was a horrible looking vehicle with 16-inch chrome rims and a red racing stripe. The thing was ancient.

“You like my ride, Roy?" Koa said with a smirk.

“Suits you perfectly, Koa” Roy replied.

Squashed in the car like sardines with Katey Perry's greatest hits in the CD player, they began their way down the tired road through potholes and rice paddies. Driving through the small villages gave Roy a glimpse into country life in Laos.

The journey came to an end and they found themselves at the bowling alley where the tournament was being held. With butterflies in their bellies, the boys did what they had trained to do. It was like something had possessed Roy’s ball. It turned out to be the first of many perfect tournaments.

As they celebrated their win, Roy noticed an older gentleman in the corner. He was wearing a navy blue suit with scuffed brown leather slip-ons. His wiry grey hair draped over his balding dome. He was fixated on Roy, whilst scribbling something in a little black book. Roy didn’t think much of it. After all, he was the only foreigner in the entire building, so people had been staring at him all day.

Roy, Charlie and his teammates left the building, beer and trophies in hand. They entered the gravel car park with a wobbly boot. As Roy opened the car door and was about to get inside. He was suddenly stopped by the man with the little black book. The man stuttered at first as if he was starstruck. To Roy's surprise, he spoke in a thick American accent.

“You’ve got talent, boy. My name is Richard Davis” he spat.

Roy replied, “Good to meet you, Roy is the name."

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m a scout for the PBA, and I think you’ve got what it takes to go all the way”.

“What the hell is the PBA? And all the way where?" Roy blurted.

“The Professional Bowlers Association of course. I have scouted some of our sport's biggest stars. Have you ever heard of Walter Ray Williams Jr., Earl Anthon or Pete Weber?”

"Um…” Roy paused, “Nah, sorry I haven’t, mate.”

“Well nevermind, you will soon. We want to return the world’s greatest sport to her former glory, but we can’t do it alone. We’re looking for fresh talent like yourself. This here is a contract.” As he held up a crinkled stack of papers.

“You will receive a $20,000 dollar signing bonus and we will fly you to the United States where you will begin to train and play amongst the best. You only have to sign here, here, and here.” As he frantically flicked through the pages.

Roy couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought it was too good to be true, but then he felt a special feeling. The same one he felt when he picked up the purple ball all those weeks ago. Charlie, Koa and Bob began dancing and cheering “Sign it!”

Charlie screamed, “This is it!”

Richard held out a half-chewed pen, eagerly waiting for a signature. Roy snatched it and signed on the dotted lines. Then he firmly shook Richard’s hand and with a grin said "Just like that".