#token british guy tournament

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Treasure- Part 4

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Kim Hongjoong (Ateez)

Genre: Fantasy AU, Pirate AU

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Smut at the end, language throughout

Tag List:  @ pastel-crystals @ purpleprincesslea @ x-lilyofthevalley-x @ baekxhwa @ bootysand @ suju-hit-me-like-a-wreckingball @ yunderfullthings @ dreamshopesforward @ kiara-reighns @ fivesecondsofsarang @ speedilyunadulteratedcandy @ sansugar @ xxhzxqhxx @ erica-kay @ teeztheflag

Despite his promise, Hongjoong never demonstrated more than a comfortable camaraderie whenever he requested my time. I was always expecting the command to which I would willingly obey, but the Pirate Captain usually offered me a quiet dinner with surprisingly civil conversation. He often asked about my life back on the island, posture relaxed while he listened to me speak. It was a surprising shift in character considering Hongjoong’s initial attitude when I was brought on board. Now, he treated me less like a prisoner and more of a possession to be treated with care. 

As for the rest of the crew, I enjoyed a symbiotic relationship with the other pirates. In the mornings, Yunho would always prepare breakfast, ensuring that I was fed before his members. When the sun was at its highest point, I sometimes assisted San and Wooyoung with their chores down below the main deck. And at night, I envied the mysterious Yeosang who kept watch from atop the crow’s nest for potential threats. On occasion, the younger boy would allow me to join him up there amongst the stars, looking out over the ocean and listening to the splash of the water against the hull. 

At other times, the crew gathered together in the evenings to play a rather unique card game. On the first night, I had watched them from afar, learning through observation how to play the correct hand. Because there was a certain science to the game that involved a lot of wits and careful planning. It was also important to keep a close eye on San and Wooyoung who were more than willing to cheat their way to victory. When I finally felt confident enough to join them for the very first time, I sat in the middle of the troublesome boys and joined the chaos that was becoming a very competitive gambling tournament.

I had also become well-acquainted with the other crew members on Hongjoong’s precious ship, like the brilliant Jongho who demonstrated on more than one occasion his uncanny strength. There was also Park Seonghwa who was in charge of navigation. He liked to find the strangest places to unfold his maps, charting our next course with precision. I admired his careful organization, keeping attention to detail as he explained his work to me with a passionate tone. And I was almost positive that he was a certified genius.

Finally, there was Mingi, the older pirate who still regarded me with an air of contempt. It was obvious that he didn’t like me very much, but I think he tolerated my presence since the Captain still allowed me onboard. Because that was the one thing that all these interesting characters had in common, their profound loyalty to the baffling Pirate Captain who had proven to be nothing like I initially believed.

In the end, everything always came back to Hongjoong who I had slowly started to feel comfortable around. He was deeply affectionate with his crew members, and I was starting to become a recipient of his caring nature. It certainly made life more tolerable on the ship, especially when it was obvious that I had earned their respect.

Currently, our crew was set to sail for the fabled British waters. Hongjoong intended to keep his promise to the Pirate Lords and lead a series of attacks against the naval vessels. He wanted to set an example, hoping to demonstrate his power in an effort to dissuade future Commodores from attacking innocent Pirate crews.

We had been sailing for almost a week without reprieve and I was starting to feel the effects of being away from land for so long. I never complained because I felt like I had no reason to voice my discomfort when Hongjoong never forced me to work like the others. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to sit still throughout the day and watch everyone else move about the ship while I had nothing substantial to do for fun. 

This is why I decided to create my own special version of the card game, twisting the rules of what the rest of the crew had already established. Thus, I settled against the side of the deck that morning, organizing a blank set of cards that I had procured from Yeosang who always possessed the most interesting objects. Hongjoong found me later that day in this predicament, resting in the shadows as I shuffled through a deck of cards. “It’s not a game to play alone,” the Captain greeted me.

“I’m trying something new,” I told him in return.

“New?” he chuckled, leaning against the banister. “I’m impressed.”

“Just wait,” I grinned. “I want to try it tonight with the other guys. I think it’ll keep San and Wooyoung from trying anything nefarious.”

“Obviously you don’t know them very well,” Hongjoong said. “They always find a way to break the rules.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said determinedly. “Was there something you needed?”

“A request,” he replied. “If you’ll accept?”

“I guess it depends on what you want,” I said.

“Just your time,” Hongjoong said. “Tonight in my cabin.”

“Oh?” was all I said in return, remembering the last time I had visited Hongjoong’s cabin, expecting him to act on his promise from a month ago. Instead, the Captain had me sit on his bed while he busied himself with Seonghwa’s maps, occasionally asking for my opinion on a particular route. I was surprised that he wanted my input but entertained his questions until he quietly dismissed me without another word.

“We might reach British waters as early as tomorrow evening,” Hongjoong said.

“Really?”

He nodded. “Don’t think less of me, love. There are difficult decisions ahead of us.”

His words confused me, but I knew it was impossible to figure out Hongjoong’s intentions. “When should I come?”

“Midnight,” he said, sparing me a quick, fleeting glance before he returned to the helm.

“Hello, boys,” I grinned, shuffling through the stack of cards in my hands while observing their current game. 

“What do you want?” Mingi grumbled, barely paying me any attention while shoving a cigarette between his teeth.

“I have something fun for us,” I said. “A new game I made.”

“A new game!” Wooyoung perked up, disregarding the favorable selection of cards in hand to look at me with wide eyes. “What is it?”

“Something I spent all afternoon working on,” I said, dropping the cards onto the edge of the table. “We should play this instead.”

“No thanks,” Mingi said, rolling his eyes while he attempted to return Wooyoung’s attention to their game.

“It might be interesting,” San spoke up, abandoning his cards to retreat around the table, standing over me with his chin tucked on my shoulder. 

“Thank you, Sannie,” I grinned, grateful that the younger boy had always been there to lend me his support since I first stepped aboard the ship. When he wasn’t causing all sorts of mischief with Wooyoung, San was a pretty remarkable person who was incredibly intuitive. 

“I want to try Y/N’s game,” Wooyoung said, leaning against Yunho for support. “Please?”

Despite his tough appearance, Yunho was actually warm-hearted and he held a soft spot for Wooyoung. “I don’t mind,” he said.

“Whatever,” Mingi grunted, kicking back his stool with more attitude than necessary. He glared at me as he passed by before disappearing below the deck with a muttered curse. Meanwhile, Wooyoung and Yunho were already clearing the table of the discarded bottles of alcohol while Seonghwa politely sorted through everyone’s cards.

“Okay,” I said, sliding into Mingi’s abandoned seat. “The rules are simple.”

In actuality, I did my best to make the game as convoluted as possible. Because it left no room for Wooyoung and San’s cheating if they could barely grasp the concept of our card game. Plus, I was still determined to challenge Park Seonghwa who was far too smart for his own good. 

For the most part, the game was very similar to the cards the boys had taught me when I had been first welcomed. Back then, I often sat next to Yunho or Jongho and allowed them to talk me through every move and careful decision. I learned rather quickly and started playing on my own, even though it was often difficult to emerge victorious when it came to Wooyoung and San. Still, it was nice to feel like they wanted me around with the exception of Mingi who continued to insist on ignoring me whenever I happened to come around.

“What do the dice have to do with anything?” Wooyoung asked now, obviously quite irritated as he struggled to understand the rules.

“It depends on the card you draw,” I explained. “Certain cards allow you the opportunity to roll the dice.”

“Oh, whatever,” San huffed. “Let’s just play.”

“No problem,” I agreed, shuffling the cards before distributing seven to each player who had joined our small circle while the other crew members lingered in the background.

I held up my stack, passing my eyes across each card. “I’ll start with this,” I said, turning over one of my cards.

Wooyoung studied my card with intense scrutiny. “Okay, I’ll put this down,” he said, somewhat hesitant in his movements. 

After everyone played their first card, I carefully explained how betting would work during each round. “Two chips each,” I said.

“How do you come up with that?” San asked, clearly perplexed as he watched me slide two of my tokens into the center pile.

“I told you at the beginning,” I said, laughing at the look of utter confusion on his face.

I waited for each player to select a new card. “Does anybody have something that can complete a hand?”

“Me!” Yunho yelled, swiping a golden-tinted card from his stack. “An automatic completion.”

“No fair!” Wooyoung protested, watching Yunho drag the pile of chips in his direction.

“I don’t see a problem,” Yunho quipped in return. “Who draws next?”

“Me,” San quickly interceded, reaching for a card from the shrinking deck at the center of our table. “What the hell does the horse mean again?” 

“Take another two cards,” Seonghwa replied, an intense look of concentration sharpening his features. 

“My turn!” Wooyoung grinned, but I knocked his hand away before he could take a new selection. 

“We have to wait for San.”

“This is so confusing,” Wooyoung whined, slamming his cards down against the table with a pout.

Meanwhile, San examined his cards with narrowed eyes. “Four of a kind,” he grinned, presenting the cards in overdramatic fashion. “I get to roll the dice now!”

“Let me check,” Wooyoung insisted, snatching San’s cards away with a heavy sigh. Meanwhile, San was already throwing the dice across the table.

“Six!” he said, holding out an expectant hand. “Pay up, assholes.”

With a grimace, Seonghwa reluctantly pushed his chips in San’s direction. “This game makes absolutely no sense.”

“Of course it does,” I said. “I spent all afternoon working on this.”

“Well, you didn’t do a very good job,” Wooyoung muttered.

“You’ve been complaining all night,” I said while observing my remaining cards. “Nobody forced you to play.” 

“Yeah? But there’s nothing better to do,” he complained. “You’re gonna win anyway because you actually understand what’s going on.”

“Really?” I smirked. “Since you can’t cheat now!”

“I never cheat,” he lied smoothly. “Sometimes, I try and help my situation.”

“By cheating,” Yunho said, shuffling through his cards as he tried desperately to find what he was looking for. “Fine, I don’t have the stupid Dragon so Seongwha wins.”

The ship’s navigator grinned triumphantly while dragging Yunho’s chips into his rapidly accumulating pile. “It looks like Seonghwa understands.”

“But he’s a genius so it doesn’t count,” Wooyoung said.

“Are you saying that you want to give up?” I challenged the younger, but Wooyoung was never one to turn away from an obvious taunt.

“I’ll figure it out,” he insisted, even as his chip pile continued to grow lower and lower with each subsequent round of play.

Eventually, despite Wooyoung’s best efforts, it came down between me and Seonghwa and I was suddenly more determined than ever to win. “My heart completes the hand,” I said, exposing the card so that he could clearly observe my victory before reaching for the pile of chips. 

“But I draw first,” Seonghwa said, eyeing his new card with interest.

I frowned. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled, tucking it away before adding an extra chip to our new betting pile.

But I knew Seonghwa better than that at this point in time. And I was on edge the longer we continued to exchange cards and chips, waiting for the finishing blow. “I have money on you Seonghwa,” San said, growing impatient as he started to pace back and forth.

“I hope it wasn’t a lot,” I said, finally securing the card I had been waiting for, playing it shamelessly as I sat back in my chair with a smirk. “I win.”

Seonghwa was silent for a moment, fingering the edges of the familiar card he had previously drawn. However, he eventually released a dramatic sigh, returning his cards to the pile before pushing his chips across the table. “Congratulations, Y/N.”

Wooyoung squealed from behind me. “That’s the first time Seonghwa has ever lost!”

I felt a warm pride settle in the center of my chest as I counted the chips in front of me. “He can’t be good at everything.”

“I guess I’m not,” Seonghwa said, offering me a quick wink before giving up his chair to an eager crew member who was demanding that we play a new game. I was quick to acquiesce, grabbing the cards to start shuffling while watching Seonghwa from the corner of my eyes. He was talking to Yunho, smiling brightly despite his recent loss, which confused me because I didn’t think Seonghwa would take to losing so generously...And I couldn’t help but think that Seonghwa had let me win on purpose.

I knocked on Hongjoong’s cabin door at midnight, prompt as usual since the Captain emphasized organization and timeliness to the rest of his crew. However, I couldn’t help but wonder if he would be willing to make an exception for me. After all, Hongjoong rarely raised his voice around me anymore, even if I did something mischievous like raid Yunho’s store of chocolate with Wooyoung.

“Come inside,” Hongjoong said when he answered my call, taking a step back to allow me enough room to slip in through the doorway.

“You know, this is rather late even for someone like you,” I remarked, admiring the display of candles on the mantle.

“Yes, but the crew are asleep,” Hongjoong said. “We’ll have privacy.”

I arched a brow at him. “Is there something you want, Captain, that necessitates privacy?”

He smirked knowingly. “I just want a promise from you this time, love.”

“A promise from me?” I repeated. 

“Yes,” Hongjoong nodded. “It might not make any sense now, but it’s important to me that you keep your word.”

“Of course I will,” I affirmed, even if I wanted to point out the hypocrisy behind Hongjoong’s words.

“There might be a moment when you feel like I’ve treated you unfairly,” Hongjoong began, and his serious tone suddenly seemed out of place. “I want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you. Even if it might seem like I did, you have to remember this moment.”

I simply stared at the Captain. “What’s going on?”

Hongjoong sighed like the entire weight of the world rested solely on his shoulders. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“It doesn’t seem that way,” I said, watching him sit down at his desk. “I’m worried.”

“Don’t be,” Hongjoong said, grabbing a pen from its ink container. “My intentions for you, love, always take into account your well-being.”

It didn’t seem that way to me, especially since Hongjoong seemed burdened by everything he was saying. “You seem sad,” I observed, reaching out to curl my fingers into the fabric of his jacket. “Have I done something wrong?”

Hongjoong chuckled. “If anything, love, you’ve been too perfect.”

I shifted backward, watching as he removed the jacket to reveal a thin cotton shirt underneath. “Is that the only reason you asked me to come here?”

“Not exactly,” he said, turning his head to the side as if to make sure I couldn’t possibly misinterpret his words. “I think it’s time I keep my promise to you, love.”

“T-tonight?” I stuttered, clearing my throat because I didn’t understand why I suddenly felt so nervous.

“Unless you don’t want to,” Hongjoong said, finally dismissing the stack of papers on his desk. He stood tall over me, cornering me back against the frame of the bed. “I won’t force you.”

“I know,” I said, hesitantly reaching out to steady my hands against his chest. “But it’s been so long and I didn’t know if you were even interested in me anymore.”

He tilted my chin up, forcing our eyes to meet. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met, Y/N. Never think otherwise.”

It was strangely emotional, the way he spoke to me. “I won’t,” I managed to say because my heart was racing in my chest and he was very close to me. 

“Lay down,” he instructed me gently and I wordlessly complied, making myself comfortable against the sparse sheets. Meanwhile, Hongjoong had grabbed the hem of his shirt, bringing it over his head before tossing it into the floor. My breath hitched in my throat, admiring his lean torso, muscles building his frame from years of hard work aboard the ship. “You’re beautiful,” he told me earnestly. “Can you take off your clothes for me?”

I nodded in response, trembling fingers making quick work of my pants, fingernails scratching the skin of my thighs as I quickly forced them down my legs. I toed them off on the floor, reaching down for my shirt before allowing it to join the pile of clothes we were accumulating against the hardwood floors of the cabin. I slowly exhaled when I was fully naked, resisting the urge to cover myself because Hongjoong’s gaze was intense, eyes moving up and down my figure with barely constrained lust. “Perfect,” he whispered, weight dipping along the edge of the bed. I was a complete mess, barely holding back when he was hovering over me, all sinewy muscles and hard lines from the crest of his shoulders to the curves of his legs. 

“Please,” I groaned, tangling my hands in the soft strands of strawberry hair before forcing his mouth against mine, kissing him with an urgency resulting from an entire month of covetous glances on the main deck. 

“I want you so much,” Hongjoong said, voice husky as his words made me feel nothing short of desired. 

“You shouldn’t have kept me waiting,” I teased him, despite the Captain’s crooked smile.

His kisses were scorching, igniting a flame of desire in the parts of my soul that had never been touched before. I felt his hands trail down my legs, parting my thighs so that I could finally feel his hot erection. “Yes,” I moaned, breaking our kiss to look at the place where he was sliding inside, bringing us together intimately while he started to nose along the side of my neck. “I can’t trust myself around you, love,” he said. “You make me a very dangerous man.”

His cock hit deeper. “You were already dangerous, Captain.”

Fingers brushed teasingly down the sides of my waist, thumbs digging into the jutting bones of my hips. “Let me try again,” he insisted. “I can’t control the way I feel and that makes me dangerous to everyone, including myself.” 

I moaned when his teeth followed the curve of my neck, arched back against his ministrations. “Which is a bad thing?”

“Very,” he agreed. “When I would sacrifice everything, even my own life, just to see you safe.”

“You don’t mean that,” I said, gasping at an aggressive thrust that nearly knocked the air out of my lungs.

“Look at me,” he growled, a sound that went straight to my growing arousal, but I still forced my eyes to open. “I do mean it,” he said. “I would do anything for you.”

I started crying, the weight of his words and the heavy presence between my legs were all playing with the delicate string barely anchoring me to reality. He was a master of seduction, breath hot as he moved in closer to my ears. “I’ll ruin you.”

That was all that I needed to tip me over the edge, losing myself completely to Hongjoong. I cried into his shoulder, gripping tighter to the smooth skin of his broad shoulders, riding out the lingering pulses of pleasure and verging on overstimulated. “Hongjoong,” I gasped, feeling his grip on my thighs tighten as he pushed in harder, barely allowing me any room to breathe. His lips were messy as they demanded long, passionate kisses.

“Hold on for me, love,” he said, hips rocking against mine for a moment longer before stilling completely. 

He collapsed next to me, chest moving up and down to accommodate his exhaustion. “You weren’t a liar,” I commented with a delirious giggle, crowding even closer to him with one arm wrapped over his waist.

Hongjoong was quiet, the only indication that he was still awake being the slow way his fingers traced along my spine. Finally, he gripped my chin, tilting my head to meet his gaze. I was surprised to see the sadness there, despite our previous coupling. “I love you,” he whispered earnestly while a few stray tears fell from the corners of his lovely brown eyes.

[junker-town]

The legend of King Handles and The Notic

The rise and fall, and rise again, of one of streetball’s greatest crews

Almost everyone who played a pickup game in Vancouver in the 1990’s tells the same story: Joey Haywood, a 6’1 teenage guard with a slender frame, innocently dribbling around multiple defenders, many of whom are at least a decade older than him. He goes behind his back in a flash, leaving another defender at mid-court in his rearview mirror. “He would just teleport and leave people behind,” says Dean Valdecantos, who used to play in those open runs.

At any pickup game, you are bound to see a streetballer who makes you jump out of your seat. Haywood didn’t just do it sometimes. He did it every time. He conquered every local court and community center run. Soon, people stopped referring to him by his real name. At the age of 16, he simply went by ‘King Handles’.

In Vancouver, that name still sparks memories, not just of his legendary game, but of a streetball movement that grew from something entirely local into a global phenomenon. The Notic was a group of young Canadian ballers who only had basketball in common at first. They met haphazardly through a pair of filmmakers. The name, The Notic, came from Kirk Thomas and Jeremy Schaulin-Rioux, the tape’s producers who took it from a track off the 1996 The Roots album, Illadelph Halflife.

The players were King Handles, David Dazzle, Johnny Blaze, J. Fresh, and Goosebumps, among many others. David and Johnny were brothers who pushed each other on the courts growing up. David was the more unpredictable one. Johnny was known for his signature low dribble (“I’ve never seen anyone dribble as low as him,” Haywood says). J. Fresh and Goosebumps were known for their freestyling moves.

What started as a pet project became a viral sensation with the help of early internet message boards. The Notic were the kind of underground success that you rarely hear about anymore, immensely popular within a tight-knit circle of streetball fans, a if you know, you know situation. Their moves were modeled in NBA Street. They were invited to cameo in movies. In time, The Notic became a massive accidental enterprise, one that threatened to slip out of control.

Before all of that though, The Notic was about a group of teenagers who loved basketball, and the creativity and individuality it encouraged. They weren’t looking for fame, and they didn’t think what they did on playground courts would translate into a financial windfall. The Notic was born out of a simple desire among a group of young men to change the way basketball was viewed and played on their local courts.

“I remember seeing this guy put the ball around somebody’s head, held the ball on his shoulders with his elbows and just made the ball vanish,” says Mohammed Wenn, who was known as Goosebumps. “I did that move in eighth grade and the guy [guarding me] was so lost he didn’t know where to look and everyone just went nuts. I felt that feeling. It was different. From then on, I wanted to feel that feeling again.”

The Notic chased that feeling together, right up to the brink of collapse. Everything happened so quickly, and just as fast, it was gone.

Joey Haywood, AKA ‘King Handles’, defending Johnny Mubanda, AKA ‘Johnny Blaze’

In 1999, a small group of family and friends gathered at the Don Bosco Youth Centre in Surrey, British Columbia, to screen The Notic, a 30-minute streetball mixtape a year in the making. The footage was grainy, but it didn’t stop several people in the crowd from jumping out of their fold-out chairs. For many in the room, it was their first time seeing Haywood and his friends show off their moves.

The Notic was meant to document a moment in time, and nothing more. The year before, Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux had just graduated from high school. After watching a copy of the first AND1 streetball mixtape that Thomas brought home from a trip to France, they decided they wanted to make their own.

A chance meeting with Haywood at the 1998 Hoop-It-Up tournament, a three-on-three streetball tournament featuring Vancouver’s best ballers, changed the direction of the mixtape. Initially, it was an excuse for Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux to make something that they could watch among friends. They brought a video camera to their own pickup games and filmed hours of footage, but no one was particularly good at basketball.

At the Hoop-It-Up tournament, Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux realized they could do so much more.

“We stumbled upon this holy grail of creativity,” Schaulin-Rioux says.

Haywood still remembers the encounter, one that would chart the course of his basketball career for the next two decades. At the time, he thought nothing of it when Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux asked if they could follow him around the city, recording him as he played. “We didn’t know what was going on,” Haywood says. “We were just playing ball. We were all like, ‘Why not? This could be cool.’”

The tape opens with the instrumental version of “Act too (The Love of My Life),” a track from The Roots’ fourth studio album Things Fall Apart, as a montage of The Notic members flashes on screen. It cuts quickly to a highlight reel backed by more hip-hop instrumentals.

The film quality doesn’t come close to the hi-def reality we’re used to. But you can see the appeal, even if you have to look closely to make out The Notic dribbling around their opponents during a night game at the playgrounds, or how the Hoop-It-Up crowd ate up every single one of King Handles’ crossovers and no look passes.

The Notic more resembled a home video for family and friends than something for public consumption. No one thought much about the mixtape after the screening. It was a fun high school project. The VHS tape would probably end up a souvenir in either Thomas’ or Schaulin-Rioux’s future homes.

Then the two filmmakers posted a 30-second trailer of the mixtape to a streetball message board. Every time they refreshed the thread, the page count multiplied. Everyone was asking where they could get a copy.

Joey Haywood

The footage made its way around the world, all across North America and to parts of Europe, the Middle East and Australia. Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux set up a website so they could accept mail orders. Thomas, working at a local video rental chain called Rogers Video at the time, collected empty cassette cases so the two could dub copies of The Notic. In total, around 800 copies were mailed. Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux realized the mixtape was becoming a phenomenon when they went online and saw bootleg copies popping up on eBay.

Suddenly, The Notic was a household name in streetball circles, both on online message boards and in Vancouver. Haywood’s childhood friend Yash Zandiyeh told him that someone had reached out on AOL Instant Messenger in hopes of connecting with King Handles so he could break down some of his dribbling moves. The request came from Estonia. “We were like, ‘where the heck is Estonia,’” Zandiyeh says. “They didn’t teach us that in geography class.”

The Notic became Vancouver celebrities.

“One kid came up to me, asked for my autograph and said, ‘you’re my favorite player in the world,’” Johnny Mubanda, AKA Johnny Blaze, remembers. “I was like, ‘what are you talking about? Michael Jordan is out there.’”

The Notic was suddenly more than just a group of basketball junkies who wanted to see themselves on tape. Fans were tracking their every move. They were beloved simply for living their regular streetball lives.

This was just the beginning.

For the group, and especially Haywood, the success of the mixtape felt like vindication for everything they believed in. They all viewed streetball as a credible way of playing basketball, to the chagrin of some of their high school coaches.

Haywood modeled his game after Rafer Alston, who rose to streetball fame as Skip 2 My Lou and later played in the NBA. But in Vancouver, Haywood’s penchant for turning organized games into his own one-on-one showcases often rubbed coaches and players the wrong way. Many saw him as undisciplined, selfish and a showboat. It didn’t matter if he was clearly the best player on the floor.

“Not a lot of people had that style of play in Vancouver,” Haywood says. “People tend to look at you like you’re playing rap ball or something. They say you’re just a streetball guy. You can’t really play basketball. You don’t really have fundamentals. At the same time, I was still killing top-level players on the court but it still didn’t matter. It was hard for me.”

Mubanda saw the criticism that Haywood faced firsthand. “We got so much hate when we were young,” Mubanda says. “That’s the one thing [Joey] has been fighting against all his life. It was love on the street, but once he brought it into the regular game, people were hating all day.”

Galvanized by critics and the success of the first tape, the group quickly got to work on a second mixtape, The Notic 2. The tape was more structured. The guys studied what worked the first time, and coordinated what moves they wanted to pull off before the cameras got rolling. Everyone had a clear idea what they wanted to showcase. When it was released, the tape sent the group’s fame into the stratosphere.

EA Sports invited The Notic to help create streetball moves that would end up on the video game franchise NBA Street, released in 2001. Today, Schaulin-Rioux still hooks up the Playstation 2 just to bust out some of Haywood’s signature tricks.

“I remember telling the guys, ‘Imagine playing a video and when I press a button I could be doing one of your moves,’” Schaulin-Rioux says. “Four months later, I was sitting with Joey and Mohammed at a motion capture event for NBA Street and we were laughing, like, ‘Wow, this is really happening.’”

The Notic were invited to play streetball tournaments in the United States, and even received boxes of shoes and apparel from AND1 as tokens of appreciation. “Jeremy and I received the package and piled everything in the back of our car and told the whole crew to meet us,” Thomas says. “We opened the trunk of our cars and shoes just fell out. Everyone lost their minds. They were in high school. They couldn’t afford any of it. Now they got to have all of this stuff. It was so cool to see their excitement.”

For a group of high schoolers, this was the apex. By pursuing their collective passion for streetball, The Notic had become stars. They thrived just by being themselves.

“There was never any business plan,” Thomas says. “The only plan we ever had was to film ourselves playing basketball. We loved basketball and we loved making videos.”

Mohammed Wenn, AKA ‘Goosebumps,’ left, and David Mubanda, AKA ‘Dazzle’

By that time, AND1 Basketball had exploded into the mainstream. Streetballers were earning a living and appearing on ESPN. Everyone in The Notic thought the same thing would happen to them.

And while opportunities came, no one in The Notic thought about how well they were parlaying their popularity into financial stability. It was cool enough to be performing streetball moves in front of a green screen for a video game franchise.

In retrospect, everyone agrees they could have been compensated better if the group had just sat down to discuss a long-term plan.

“But when you’re young,” Haywood says, “you don’t expect a whole lot.”

As the group began work on a third mixtape, even showing up to the pickup games to capture footage became a challenge. They didn’t have the time nor resources to support the work that their popularity demanded. Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux were recent university graduates with full-time jobs. Simply picking up a video camera and driving to the park wasn’t as easy as it used to be.

“I couldn’t call into work and say, ‘The weather is nice, there’s a game happening today, I’m not coming in,” Thomas says.

The ballers also started feeling less motivation to show up. Some of them had graduated high school and moved out of Vancouver. Their numbers dwindled. Those who remained in the city had their own education and bills to worry about. Pulling off dazzling dribble moves at the park wasn’t at the top of their priorities anymore.

Slowly, the group dissolved. By the mid-2000s, everyone went their separate ways. The Notic officially broke up.

Haywood wondered where his streetball career would take him next. He continued to hit local courts in Vancouver during the summer when he wasn’t traveling around the world to play in streetball tournaments. In 2008, Haywood went to Kitsilano Beach, one of the more popular beaches in Vancouver, to play pickup. A bit older now, Haywood was still the stand-out player on the court.

Playing against him that day was Howard Kelsey, a member of Team Canada’s Men’s National Basketball Team for 11 years and previously the head recruiter at the University of Victoria. Kelsey considered himself an encyclopedia of Canadian basketball prospects, so he was surprised to find out he had never heard of Haywood.

Mohammed Wenn and David Mubanda on the SkyTrain in Vancouver

What Kelsey did know was his scouting instincts weren’t betraying him. In Haywood, he saw one of the most skilled players he had ever come across locally. “He had guys triple-teaming him and he’s going through their legs and putting it over their heads,” Kelsey says. “I have never seen anybody at any level handle the ball better than him.”

As a streetballer, Haywood had proven himself in every way possible. Defenders feared him. Fans adored him. The Notic cemented his reputation. But now he was an adult who needed to turn his basketball hobby into a living. Among The Notic, Haywood was the only member who had the skills and the drive to pursue a pro career.

But organized basketball never jived with Haywood’s free spirit. After high school, he attended Langara College in British Columbia and played point guard on the men’s basketball team, but lasted just a few months. Haywood and his coach didn’t agree on his playing style. Even when Haywood felt like he was playing well, he still wasn’t getting a lot of run. Taking on a reduced role was too difficult for his ego to swallow.

“I just wasn’t used to sitting on the bench after starting my whole life,” Haywood says. “I felt like I deserved to be a starter and that was my mentality.”

For the next half decade, Haywood traveled the streetball circuit, flying around the world to tournaments, open runs and elimination challenges. Haywood tried out for AND1 and didn’t make it. He competed in a $100,000 tournament and came up short. The high school phenom was now a streetball vagabond in his mid-20s trying to figure out what was next.

Kelsey was matter-of-fact about what Haywood should do: play pro ball, because streetball doesn’t pay the bills.

“You can be All-Rucker Park,” Kelsey told Haywood. “But if you’ve never played college, the legitimacy is just not the same. You have to be legit. You have to be able to make it in college.”

Those words stuck with Haywood. Shortly after their meeting, Haywood played in a streetball tournament in Halifax and caught the attention of the Saint Mary’s University coaching staff. Ross Quackenbush was the school’s men’s basketball head coach, and happened to be friends with Kelsey, who vouched for Haywood when Quackenbush called him for a scouting report. Haywood was offered a scholarship.

“I let the coaches know, ‘Listen I’m for real, I wanted to change my style of play,’” Haywood says. “‘I didn’t want to come in here and do streetball stuff. I wanted to work on my fundamentals.’”

Haywood kept his word and became a household name again, setting Saint Mary’s single-season scoring record. In his senior season, Haywood was the nation’s leading scorer, averaging 28.8 points per game. He was first-team All-Canadian and the Atlantic University Sport Player of the Year.

The Notic crew asleep on a road trip

Mohammed Wenn

But Haywood, then 27, was graduating college at an age much older than everyone else, and didn’t have an NCAA Division I school or any professional basketball experience on his resume. He didn’t attract any interest from the NBA, and was forced to wander in search of courts again, playing for the Aalorg Vikings of the Danish Basket Ligaen, the Grindavik men’s basketball team in Iceland and the Halifax Rainmen of the National Basketball League of Canada.

Approaching his mid-30s, Haywood, who failed to make the Raptors 905 D League team at a tryout in 2016, admits he struggled to accept that NBA teams weren’t interested.

“I’ll watch some highlights, and then I’ll stop and be like, ‘Fuck man, I wish I was there,’” Haywood says. “I can see myself there. Every day I wish I’d get a phone call or email.”

But even in times of frustration, Haywood is grateful a couple of streetball mixtapes allowed him, in a roundabout way, to play basketball for a living. “It was all The Notic,” Haywood says. “None of it would have been possible without it.”

Haywood does wonder if The Notic would have continued if they had put a business plan in place, and whether he could have spent his 20s traveling around the world with the group, earning large paychecks and watching their celebrity grow over time.

“If we were more business-like and had the right manager and agent, we could have done camps, clinics, streetball tours across Canada,” Haywood says. “The Notic fell off because we didn’t know the business side of things. We never really capitalized on it. We did it for the love, which was great, but we had these tapes, and by the time we sat down to think about how we could eat off it, it was too late.”

Members of the group still kept in touch with Haywood and followed his journey. “I love King,” Mubanda says. “He just kept doing it.” The thought of Haywood carrying the legacy of The Notic by himself was hard to digest.

“I felt as though I let him down sometimes,” Mubanda says. “Before, he had a squad. He had all of us. Now, he was out there by himself.”

Although Haywood never made the NBA, and The Notic never reached their full potential, he found contentment within the career he had. Perhaps he never reached the heights of fame and success he imagined for himself once, but he proved he could persevere and thrive in both street and organized ball.

And just when it seemed like Haywood had nothing left to chase, streetball came calling again.

The Notic crew

In 2017, a hoard of basketball fans arrived at a local basketball court in Tokyo to get a glimpse of their favorite streetballer. Almost two decades after the first Notic tape made its way around the world, Haywood was there to put on a show. Later, fans in the audience asked their idol to sign DVD copies of The Notic 2 and pose for photos.

When a friend reached out about opportunities in Asia to re-enter the streetball scene, Haywood did not hesitate at all. After all these years, the passion that fueled him as a 16-year-old kid at the local community centre had returned. “It’s a rebirth,” Haywood says. “I’ve coming back to the roots of where I started.”

Joining him in Tokyo was Mubanda, who now coaches high school basketball in Vancouver. Mubanda was overwhelmed by the turnout in a foreign country. He could finally see The Notic’s legacy. “You might not be LeBron James,” Mubanda told Haywood. “But look at the impact you’ve made.”

Years after The Notic failed to capitalize on their fame, Haywood is doing it for himself. He has built an online presence and runs his own own YouTube channel, where you can still see him competing in streetball tournaments and holding clinics for younger players around the world. The Notic lives on through Haywood, who still goes by King Handles and features the group’s logo prominently at the start of his videos.

Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux have kept in touch with Haywood, and are proud to watch him carry on The Notic.

“Joey is the best flag bearer for The Notic and for streetball,” Schaulin-Rioux says. “When he steps on the basketball court, you can’t look away. When you meet him after the game, he makes you feel like he’s your best friend. He’s brought people together through the love of basketball.”

They’ve even approached Haywood about making The Notic 3. Thomas and Schaulin-Rioux envision it as one part back-to-basics Notic streetball highlights, another part retrospective of Haywood’s basketball journey over the past two decades. “There’s still a couple of streetball moves I’ve never seen anyone do that’s sitting on some Hi8 tapes at my dad’s house,” Schaulin-Rioux says.

Where Haywood’s basketball journey goes next is hard to say. But he likes the possibilities.

“When you’re a pro, you’re getting paid, but you’re not really marketable,” Haywood says. “I think this route is a lot better for me. I can give back to the guys and shape the way the streetball game is played by the next generation. I can give back now. I have so much more passion giving back to streetball than playing at the pro level.”

Haywood’s story won’t include an NBA appearance, nor will many basketball fans be able to recall his career. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t succeed.

“I’m so proud of him,” Mubanda says. “He just kept going. He kept The Notic alive. He kept us alive. Through him, we’re still living. Forget the fame. Forget whether people know us. What we had together, that was love. It was a moment in time and it was precious, man.”

[torentialtribute]

BECKER’S NOTEBOOK: Kyrgios has just one year to turn himself around

After five days of pulsating action at Wimbledon three-time champion Boris Becker delivers his opinion on the action so far , and looks ahead to the weekend's action.

Boris Becker gives his thoughts on the opening week at Wimbledon, and what lies ahead

Kyrgios has just one year to turn himself around

I am in the camp that wants to see Nick Kyrgios do well and fulfill his enormous potential – I love so much of what he brings to tennis . But to me he is at a crossroads, and the situation is getting urgent. I would go so far as to say that if he does not turn himself around in the next 12 months then it is never going to happen for him.

It worries me that he does not seem in a great hurry to change some of his bad habits. It is an individual sport and his lifestyle is down to him.

I actually like him, and I am really not that bothered if, within reason, he has an evening at the Dog and Fox before his match. He is not the first Aussie to adopt this approach. But really, does he want to be a top player with ideal preparation, or does he want to cruise along with his talent? Only he can answer this, and I hope it is the former.

Nick Kyrgios has reached a crossroads – does he want to be a top player, or just cruise along?

There has, incidentally, been much discussion about him drilling the ball at Rafa Nadal at the net on Thursday evening. "Drilling" your opponent is part of the game, Ivan Lendl and I used to do it to each other, for example. I have no problem with that.

But I looked upon it as a ruthless strategy, and Nick was too far back in the court on this occasion to fit that description. It was pointless from there and could have gone anywhere, maybe someone injured. So while I am not against going straight for your opponent when they are covering the net and you don't have much option, I don't think this was cool, and I would like to see him make a token apology. Even if you don't mean it, employing a certain etiquette is important.

This smells of Danger for Serena

I can smell danger here for Serena against last year's semi-finalist. On a good day you would make Serena favorite but on the evidence we have seen so far she is playing catch-up due to the fact that she has not played enough matches or tournaments this year.

She is going to have to improve if she is going to take the title and that has got to start today because nothing in the game has been working well enough yet. It is almost like she needs these matches in the early rounds to get herself to the level she wants to be – maybe playing with Andy in the mixed will help that process. You are going to see two of the biggest serves in the women's game, lots of winners and probably plenty of unforced errors. Serena cannot wait any longer to step it up.

On the evidence seen so far at SW19, Serena Williams has been playing catch-up this year

Federer is still my favorite

Roger made an uncertain start in his opening match against Lloyd Harris, but I am not concerned about that and he remains very much the favorite for me alongside Novak Djokovic. Since that first set I have been getting the sense that Roger is feeling his game, and he would be ready to play the semi-final now if needs be.

I am a great believer that it is not about the distant past but what you have been doing in recent months, and he has been playing well in that time. Lucas Pouille, coached by Amelie Mauresmo, is a good player but I do not see this being a Center Court upset and Federer ought to be purring, going into the second week.

Roger Federer made an uncertain start to his tournament, but Boris Becker is unconcerned

The Brits

Both Jo Konta and Dan Evans have fair chances of progressing on Saturday, and I would be happy to see it because I like a comeback story.

My message to British fans is to really get behind their players, and it is particularly important in the case of Evans because he is clearly a guy who relishes the emotional connection with the crowd.

You look at some players and they are happiest when they are playing somewhere like Court 17, a bit out of the way. He is someone who likes to play on the big arena, and it will really help him get the crowds behind him.

I like his game on grass, his quick hands, but Joao Sousa is a strong competitor . With neither of these players having the fourth round before there is going to be a big mental dimension to the match.

I have been impressed with the way Konta has bounced back from the disappointment of getting so close to making the French final. That sort of missed chance can get to you, but she seems to have shrugged it off. Sloane Stephens is a tough opponent who is ranked higher but I would not be surprised to see Jo make the second week.

Jo Konta has bounced back well from disappointment of coming so close at the French Open

The lost generation?

At the start of this week I said nothing would please me more than to see some of the young players in the men's game contesting the semi-finals or the final. My prayers do not seem to have been answered.

So many of the likes of Stefanos Tsitsipas, Denis Shapovalov and Alex Zverev have ended up falling short of the hopes we had for them. I am actually going to leave sixth seed Tsitsipas out of it, because he made it to the semis of the Australian Open and, as I mentioned before the tournament, I still think he has a lot to learn about moving on grass.

But there is something missing among them as a group, maybe mentorship and mentality. I have a lot of time for Zverev who I know through my work in German tennis, and he has been doing some work with Ivan Lendl.

But it didn't help that Ivan was not around for the two months before this tournament. You either have your mentor around or you don't. I do think it is important to surround yourself with people who know what it takes to win a major championship but it needs to be done properly.

Still, all is not lost, and maybe someone will come through and surprise us next week.

Alex Zverev has suffered from not having a mentor Ivan Lendl around before Wimbledon

What I have especially enjoyed this week

It's always great to see a new talent emerge, and how could anyone not enjoy the performances or Coco Gauff? What made me smile more than anything, however, was seeing Andy Murray walk out to Court 1 on Thursday evening. I remember him limping out of here in agony two years ago, and having followed his fortunes since.

I remember his emotional press conference in Australia in January when we all fear it might be the end for him. So to see him back doing what he loves most, pain-free and seemingly relaxed just six months later was inspiring and uplifting. It is early days yet but I hope we are going to see him back at Wimbledon for quite a few more years to come.

How could anyone not enjoy the performances or 15-year-old Coco Gauff so far?

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