"He ran forward and kicked the ball away ... when the game was finished, Lote walked up to him and pushed him from behind, and they're both team mates. That was a memory that stuck with me," Alaalatoa says. "I was up in the nose bleeds but I saw it and I was thinking 'why did he push him, they're in the same team'. My old man knew the rules and could see what was going on but I was upset that I saw that." Brumbies skipper Allan Alaalatoa. Credit:Getty Some armchair psychoanalysis might identify that memory as the moment a young Alaalatoa's Brumbies destiny materialised on the horizon. But the Test prop's own account confirms a much more generic conversion from West Harbour ball boy to Canberra loyalist. As Brumbies coach Dan McKellar - himself an interstate transplant - describes it, "they provide opportunity".

"You get pigeon holed ... when people ask me why the Brumbies are a special club, it's because they provide opportunity," McKellar says. Alaalatoa was desperate for one when the Brumbies called him. A lot has been made of the Alaalatoa rugby pedigree, with Allan's father Vili playing in the storied Western Samoa team that upset Wales at the 1991 Rugby World Cup. But for all of the genetic and environmental markers in the youngest son's favour, the professional contracts didn't just roll in. Even for the precociously gifted, hard work is required. Laurie Fisher said 'mate you're the last option, everyone's injured' ... I only got on for one minute and I missed one tackle. Allan Alaalatoa An Australian U20s representative in 2012 and 2013 and NSW Academy player out of school, Alaalatoa spent two years training, studying and playing, then rounding out his day with a graveyard shift in the pokies room of the Canterbury-Hurlstone Park RSL. Meanwhile, close family friend Scott Sio was living the professional dream in Canberra. "I can remember 2012 was one of the hardest years. I had to get up at 5am to get the train and bus to academy training for 7am, I'd train til about 9 and then I'd head to uni in Milperra, then I'd go back to Bankstown station to get the train to Burwood for Colts training at night, that would finish at 8pm and then I'd start work at 9pm and walk out of there at 6am," Alaalatoa says.

"I'd get home and die, sleep til 12pm then go back to uni. I look back now and can't believe I did those days. It's something I didn't really think about then but it's because I wanted to play professional rugby. "My parents always told me that it was harder for me to study than it was to play rugby, so my dad always pushed me towards uni. To do all three - work, play and study - was tough, but I'm grateful for that because it's got me to where I am now, that whole work ethic we talk about and the opportunities that came off the back of that." There were nibbles towards the end of 2013, including a week trialing with the Rebels, but radio silence from the Waratahs. He watched Sio play in the 2013 Super Rugby final on the floor of the RSL pokie room, ignoring the drinks pager going off in his pocket. A young Alaalatoa (second from left) with father Vili (second from right) in his Wests days. "I was getting told off because people were hitting their buzzers wanting a drink or for me to fix their machines, but I'm standing in front of the TV hoping they win, because of Scotty," Alaalatoa remembers.

He was gearing up for a season of grade footy at Southern Districts when, a week out from the start of the 2014 pre-season, Laurie Fisher drove up to Sydney and requested a coffee. Loading "It's probably the most nervous I've ever been, going to speak to him ... but the next day I was told they were offering me a contract," Alaalatoa says, still not quite believing the rapid turnaround in his fortunes. The rest is history, dotted with firsts and accolades and the occasional false start. "I debuted in the (Brumbies v Chiefs) quarterfinal - Lordy (Fisher) said 'mate you're the last option, everyone's injured' then asked me what side (of the scrum) I wanted to play on. I only got on for one minute and I missed one tackle," he says.