The news this morning was a little unexpected.
An elderly man whom I’d no qualms going out alone with, or even hold his hand in public — who isn’t even related to me — had passed on.
A man i wouldn’t even have known if i hadn’t been rejected from picking up tennis as an ECA (in my days it was not CCA!) in secondary school simply because it had been too popular a sport.
A man who was basketball coach yet one i remember more off-court than on-court. His signature “Yeah, good!” still rings loud after all these years, and one can hardly forget that famous temper/stubborn nature of his.
But it was really the popiah makan outings and chats after training sessions, where he’d regale us with tales of his youthful national player days and the girls whom he attracted, that stuck with me all these years.
Even after leaving school (and competitive basketball), he would enquire about what i was doing whenever we met on the streets. He would look over any boy we were with and give his two cents’ worth, whether or not we wanted his opinion.
I’d planned to invite him to the wedding last year, but then found out later that he had been admitted into a home. If he were able to come, i’m certain he’d have shown up.
At the wake, his wife recounted how happy he was when his girls visited him at the hospital recently. We chuckled when she said he even threw a fit in his last remaining days.
Mr Tan Ah Buay may be gone, but his legacy will live on for a long time.
