Happy Xmas Max

Yes Max. Happy Xmas.

For the first time we did not play footie on boxing day. Or meet up late in the day on Xmas for a smoke and to rehash the day's events and presents. Although last year i was not here and missed out you were not and i knew the tradition lived on. This year, i like to think, that the tradition has just been put on hold. We all miss you a lot at the moment but you and the tree and being well looked after. A red rose, a card, some tiny snowmen and lots of visitors meant that you didn't spend Xmas alone. I just wish you could have spent it at mine. at least a bit of it. Take care my friend. We miss you.

Ize.xxx

Max's Tree in Queen's Park

Last Wednesday, 6 December, we planted a tree for Max in Queen's Park. It is by the bandstand, a place where Max and friends would often meet, play football, hang out on sunny days.

It is an oak tree, a pin oak, which should grow into a tall elegant tree which goes a scarlet red in autumn.

We were very pleased that a good number of people came, mainly locals. The park keepers who will look after the tree from now on had known Max, and they were very sympathetic to us.

Earlier in the day they dug a large hole and placed the tree in it, leaving a trench all around. They suggested that those who wanted to could place a spadeful of earth in the trench, which most of us did. Anna Myers then read a poem called Praise of a Man by Norman McCaig, which gave a flavour of Max's personality. After that many of us went on to the Irish.

It was a moving and sad event but I feel satisfied that Max now has a fitting place that we can call his own.

And happily the park escaped the worst of the tornado the following day.

We are thinking of holding a picnic in the park around the tree sometime in the summer for those who would like to have come to the planting but were unable to do so, and everyone else of course.

Victoria

The park keepers planting the tree





Rosy


Theo


Anna reading


More of the people there

Missing Max

I was walking in town today and was pleasantly surprised by the break in the seemingly continuous rain and enjoyed the brief rays of sunshine. I thought back to what I was doing this day last year and I burst into tears in the middle of the street, as I realised that I would have just got back from Seville, a fantastic weekend away with all the Erasmus students, including Max. It was such a good weekend - we had only planned on staying there for that night for a boat party, but we stayed longer. Although I had already become good friends with Max, this was where our friendship blossomed even further and we really enjoyed each other's company. I looked down at my feet today and saw the shoes I had bought with him and thought about my fashion advice to him as he dragged me around a surf-type shop for what seemed like an hour just so that he could chat to the sales assistants and find somewhere good to go out that night, eventually I picked him out some shorts and a T-shirt and we were on our way for more drinks. Max really made that weekend magical, he instigated the games and the fun (and drinking with breakfast, which possibly wasn't a good idea, but good all the same) and even some cultural visits and the bus tour.

Over time I have realised that time will not make the pain easier and inevitably you will go through bad phases and good phases of missing Max, but I can only hope that he can see us now and one day we will all see him again.

R.I.P Max

Jo K

Here is a photo of Cheryl (his flatmate), I, Max and Myles in Nahu, his favorite bar in Cadiz.

Memorial for Max in Newcastle

On Wednesday 11 October Newcastle University held an event in memory of Max. It was good to see so many people there, friends who are still studying there, others who have already graduated, friends from other universities who Max met in Cadiz, friends from London, and members of staff from the School of Modern Languages.

Dr Elizabeth Andersen, Head of the School, introduced the speakers. Four of Max's fellow Spanish students paid very warm tributes to him. They were Charlotte China, Laura Taggart, Tim Wynn-Jones, and Steff Doudo from Northumbria University and Cadiz. One of his teachers, Dr Vanessa Knights, spoke about Max and read a very moving Spanish poem by an author he had studied, already on this blog. Seamus also spoke about Max's experience at the University, and thanked the staff and students for their friendship and support. Prof. Máire Cross then announced a new prize which the school will award in Max's name each year, for a piece of writing about the year abroad. Music was played on the harp as we came in and during the ceremony, by Eleanor Rutherford, a language and music student.

At the end we walked past the lime tree which has been dedicated to Max. It stands just outside the language department. It is a pretty, healthy-looking tree which will flourish for a long time to come. The inscription gives Max's name and dates and describes him as "language student and footballer, a good friend, missed by many". We then had tea in the refectory and enjoyed being able to talk to so many of Max's friends.

As Seamus said in his speech, we are so grateful for all the time and thought that Dr Andersen, the Year Abroad team, and staff of the school have put into remembering Max at the University, and to Max's fellow students for being such good friends to him.

Victoria

If you click on the photo you should be able to read the plaque

FOOTY IN NEWCASTLE: If I Have Seen Further It Is Because I Stood On The Shoulders Of A Giant

Max, The Lizard, Maximus, Gluteus Maximus, Thierry O’Connell:

In Newcastle, Max played in the world famous Henderson Hall FC from 2002 - 2005. I was in the year above Max and had, therefore, played with Charlie Green (our manager and goalie) and Chris (Gruff) the year before he arrived. Unfortunately, I had not been able to assist my learned colleagues in conducting the trials for the “new batch” of Hendersonites but had to trust that they would find some decent players. I was in for a big surprise. I had the pleasure of witnessing a special goal from Maximus (one of so many) against the University Reserves (bitter rivals/cry-offs) a week or so later. “Who’s the lanky fella upfront?”, I mumbled, just before the exquisite lob, effortlessly executed, left the goal keeper thinking he should’ve stayed in bed that day - one of those shots that that you watch in the air for half an hour before gravity takes over and guides it perfectly down the into the goal rippling the net on its way.. That was the moment I (and I presume, the rest of the team) began my affiliation with Max and his curls! I gave his curly head so much attention as my own mum used to say to me, “Don’t get your hair cut son, I like them and so will the girls” - like my football, however, my curls were nothing compared to Max’s….partly to do with the fact that mine were ginger, but mainly because he had so many more. So, Max got his curls stroked by me and the lads every time he scored. I’m very surprised he wasn’t bald by the end of the two seasons I had the pleasure of playing with him! He was our very own Thierry Henry, and when he wasn’t playing it had an adverse effect on all our games (I did try in vain on a few occasions to copy some of his moves on my own, but fell over myself most of the time).

As Max became blatantly the best player in our squad (a collection of very good players it has to be said), he began to show more of his character and the Max we all came to admire so much had arrived. Football, for me anyway, had become not just a day to work off the cigarettes, it had become a whole day event (in many cases this meant ‘the night before, then all day before and then all day and night after kick off’) twice weekly. Most of my own pals had left me to go abroad as they too were language students like Max, so I was a little isolated compared to previous years. This is one of the reasons I will always remember Max. He was a massive part of my university experience. Max’s abode was a bit of a mad house that resonated ‘party’, so with Max and the rest of the crew he lived with there, it was a perfect set up. It was the party house in the whole of Jesmond. It wasn’t just a party house, however, and Max and the others were happy to make you feel welcome whenever you visited, whether it be for a kick about in the street, or to watch countless episodes of 24, or just to chill out. I must say, we chilled out a lot, and this is what I preferred. Max always had time to sit and talk about loads of mad stuff. He was a philosopher which I admired, and thus conversations were always very topical. He was a good listener as well and always paid great attention to your opinions - when he could decipher the scouse prattle that is - before he contributed with his own. You could always guarantee as well that Max would still be there at the end of the night after a party or whatever when everyone else had gone home or to bed. One of the most frequent one-to-one conversations I used to have with him (purposely trying my best to drum it home to him) was basically me asking him, “Why on Earth are you not playing professional football mate??!”, to which Max would always reply with genuine modesty, “D’ya really think I’m good enough, Scouse??”, to which I’d reply, “Are you taking the piss mate?!!”…….although - having played against his boys in Kentish Town the day after Max’s funeral - I have to say, I’m not a bit surprised he had ridiculously high standards!

A memory of Max I hold dear to me was one Christmas when he was in his house in Newcastle on his own (bar Mikey). I just so happened to be in the same boat as Max that holiday and was also alone in my own gaff. Max was strapped for cash at that moment and I too was waiting for some student loan to clear in my account. Max, being his lovably spontaneous self, exclaimed, “Scouse! If my credit card clears today, I’ll lend you some money and [NOT, ‘do you want to go out?’] we’re going out tonight!”, which it did, which he did, which we did! Although I wasn’t Max’ bestest mate in the whole world, I had absolutely no misgivings about going out on the toon with him, nor he with me. I felt like I’d known Max for such a long time and although it was just me and him, it would be a top top night. I did, although I think I recall him pulling a really big girl……at least he pulled though!

Even at the end of my time at Newcastle, Max still found the time (and James also) to invite me to London “….whenever you want….you can stay at mine…”, which I deeply regret to this very day as I virtually hadn’t seen of my mates from Uni after I left, until Max’ funeral - this amounts to two years! This angers me greatly, and I have now vowed to change my aloof existence post-Uni. The fact that Max had such an impact on mine and everybody’s lives whether team mate, best mate, or uni-lecturer, to name only a few categories, is testament to his massive character. I can only imagine for the people who knew and loved him for many many more years than I did, what an unbelievably enormous loss it will be for them and my deepest sympathies and thoughts are forever with you all. I expected nothing less from the funeral and, from the stories I listened to from his friends and family (not to mention the endless entries on his blog), I came to the conclusion that Max, even in his painfully short life, had achieved so much and was already a huge success. I have to say that Max was a giant in so many ways and if in the two years I knew him I saw further, it is because I stood on the shoulders of a giant! Max, I will remember you whenever I play football, and for the rest of my life. In life but also, tragically, in death, the biggest lesson of all which you have taught me is that life should be lived to the fullest no matter who you are or where you’re from. Without grudges, it should be lived with a smile on your face and a swagger of confidence and warmth which you so evidently had in frightening abundance. God bless you mate and all your loved ones, and thank you for being you in the two years I had the absolute pleasure of knowing you! I’m sure I will see you one day again bruv, but until then you will be sorely missed by everyone you knew, including the Henderson boys!

From: Michael Casey - or as Max sometimes preferred (in a cockney accent), “Oi, Scouser!”, “Scouse!”, “Mic!”

[I wrote the above the day after Max funeral and have been dithering since then looking for the statistics that Max, James, and Eddie produced after my final season in Newcastle playing football. Due to a house move things have been in the air a bit but I know I have then somewhere and will post them as soon as I find them. I can tell everybody now though that Max was top of the goal scoring lists and man-of-the-match lists for both Saturday and Wednesday leagues]

Emailing a post to the blog

Spam emails have started appearing on the blog. A spammer must have picked up the email address 'emailtomaxoconnellblog.textonly@blogger.com'.

To deal with that I have changed the blog so that email posts don't go up immediately you send them, but have to be vetted by me. When you email a post to the blog [now to 'emailtomaxoconnellblog.textbutnopics@blogger.com'] please copy it to me at 'maxoconnellblog@googlemail.com'. That will let me know that you have sent in a post and I shall go into the blog admin function and put it up.

I shall in any case look for email posts from time to time and put up the genuine ones.

Seamus

In memoriam Max

Yesterday I returned from leave for what could have been a tremendously sad occasion, the memorial event for Max. Max's life was tragically cut short during his year abroad in Cadiz and we gathered to remember him and to dedicate a tree to his memory. Friends and family told of a young man, full of life and promise, who brightened the lives of those around him with his enthusiasm, charisma, genuine interest in others, effortless cool and joie de vivre. A life well lived.

As his teacher I was invited to say a few words. Max may not have been our most conscientious student but he certainly made seminars animated. He did not sit on the sidelines, he took part.

Our section chose a poem put forward by another colleague who also taught Max, Patricia Oliart, who kindly provided the paraphrase into English too. The poem is by the Uruguayan author Mario Benedetti, an author Max studied with us. Benedetti is full of passion, compassion and love for humanity with all its weaknesses and strengths.

Chau número tres
Mario Benedetti

This poem is a farewell. About someone leaving his loved ones with their lives, work, people, surroundings, joys, hopes and fears, and without him. Without his questions or answers, without his doubts, without his childlike qualities, but also without his wisdom. But he promises that he is not abandoning them as he will be in unexpected places keeping them company: in an old tree, in children's smiles, in the shadows and in their dreams, where he hopes they will be able to look each other in the eyes.

Te dejo con tu vida
Tu trabajo
Tu gente
Con tus puestas de sol
Y tus amaneceres
Sembrando tu confianza
Te dejo junto al mundo
Derrotando imposibles
Segura sin seguro
Te dejo frente al mar
Descifrándote a solas
Sin mi pregunta a ciegas
Sin mi respuesta rota
Te dejo sin mis dudas
Pobres y malheridas
Sin mis inmadureces
Sin mi veteranía
Pero tampoco creas
A pie juntillas todo
No creas, nunca creas
Este falso abandono
Estaré donde menos lo esperes
Por ejemplo en un arbol añoso
de oscuros cabeceos
Estaré en un lejano horizonte sin horas
En la huella del tacto
En tu sombra y mi sombra
Estaré repartido en cuatro o cinco pibes
De esos que vos mirás
Y enseguida te siguen
Y ojalá pueda estar
De tu sueño en la red
Esperando tus ojos
Y mirándote

Dr Vanessa Knights

TONIGHT (9.10.06)

Dear Max,

Tonight I couldn't sleep at all
So instead I read... ate... smoked...
Like banging my head against a wall
Until upon my tears I choked

A song played on the radio
You know the song, One Sweet Day
"I know you're shining down on me
from Heaven," is what the words say

Are you Max? Are you up there?
I looked for you in the deep, dark sky
Tonight, as I sat beneath the stars
All alone, my tears and I

Why is it so Max? WHY IS IT SO?
This truth which, from now on, always will be
That we are all here but you are all gone
That life is much harder but death so easy

...Another song played on the radio
"I'll try to love again but baby I know
the first cut is the deepest" and you
Have cut me so deep I don't know what to do

I don't want to keep growing older without you
I don't want to fall in love when you can't
But I know I must savour the flavour of living
I just don't want to forget you. I promise, I shan't

Happy Birthday Max

Been thinking of this day coming for quite a while now, always remember Max's birthday as it's 1 month and 1 day after mine.

I woke up this morning to the thought and sight of Max, I have a photo of Max and Oli in World Headquarters (surprise surprise). God knows what night it is on, but Max has his arm around Oli, eyes closed, big smile on his face. Typical, really enjoying himself, and says a lot because it really could be any one of hundreds of nights out in Newcastle, all of which merged together into one. Its the only photo or decoration I have in my room since the wallpaper got changed, I've not bothered putting any up but since I found that I put it up, I look at it and think of Max all the time, obviously today more than others.

Today will be a hard day for all, I'm not going to be able to make it down to London today so would like to use this to send my love to all. I'm sure today will be taken in the spirit of rejoicing Max's life, and will be good for everyone to be together. I wish I could be there today, but I will see you all in Newcastle next week.

Max - Happy Birthday mate, you'll never ever be forgotten.

Ku

From Jo Smithson, in Australia

I have been thinking about Max a lot today, as it's his birthday. I'm in Australia at the moment so I will miss the memorial in Newcastle, which is such a shame.

I spent two of Max's birthday's with him, one at his houseparty in 2nd year and the other at his party at World Head Quarters (where i remember he got very overexcited/emotional that me and my housemates had bought him a card then prompty proceeded to loose it in the chaos of the party and apologise to us twenty million times!!!).

Max was such a great guy, words can't really express it, I miss him.

Jo Smithson

Notting Hill Carnival 2006 - from Marcus Yorke

The last time I went out with Max was Notting Hill Carnival 2005. I therefore thought it would be a nice tribute to make a t-shirt to commemorate him.


This is me wearing it at Carnival 2006

It was moving to return to the Sancho and Panza stage, the place where we all partied together the year before. I kept thinking I saw Max in the crowd, perhaps I was hoping he'd be there. Of course he wasn't but I like to think his spirit was in us and among us that day.


The Sancho and Panza stage



Two of Max's close friends, Johnny and Claire

Love to all, Marcus

The Max O'Connell Cup

As many readers of this blog will know, the Max O'Connell Cup took place on Saturday 8th August 2006. The event, played in honour of Max’s footballing memory, was a great success with five different teams from the Queen’s Park area taking part.

The worthy winners of the tournament were the All-Stars, who beat the Bearded Monkeys 2-1 in the final. The tournament was fiercely contested, with the football on show being of a particularly high standard. For those of you who are interested, info relating to the tournament, including photos and match information, can be found at the end of this post.

Max loved playing football while other people loved playing football with him. He was well-respected as a footballer of genuine skill and was looked up to by both his team mates and those who played against him. He was of course a ‘Legend’ and will never be replaced or forgotten. It is testament to his personality both as a footballer and as a friend that so many people turned up to honour such an important part of his life.

Thank you to everyone who turned up and participated in the event. A special thank you to Victoria and Seamus, who generously provided the champagne for the Player of Tournament Award, and to Louis who managed to get everyone to turn up.

Please look out for postings next year for news about the Max O’Connell Cup 2007.

Josh

The Winners

The Teams…

Queen’s Park

The Bearded Monkeys

The All Stars

Total Football

North Pad Old Boys

Results…

Game 1

Total Football - 0	All Stars - 3
	Ryan (2), David

Game 2

North Pad Old Boys - 1	The Bearded Monkeys - 2
Chris	Tom (2)

Game 3

Total Football - 2	Queen’s Park - 1
Alex, OG	Dom

Game 4

All Stars - 2	The Bearded Monkeys - 1
Ryan (2)	Mikey

Game 5

North Pad Old Boys - 1	Queen’s Park - 0
Nicky

Game 6

Total Football - 1	The Bearded Monkeys - 2
Scott	Tom (2)

Game 7

North Pad Old Boys - 0	The All Stars - 3
	George, Darren, Charlie

Game 8

The Bearded Monkeys - 2	Queen’s Park - 2
Mikey (2)	Dash, Joe

Game 9

Total Football - 6	North Pad Old Boys - 2
Scott (3), Alex (2), Sam	Jack (2)

Game 10

Queen’s Park - 2	The All Stars - 0
Louis, Theo

Third Place Play-Off

Queen’s Park - 2	Total Football - 2
Louis, Theo	Scott, Alex

Queen’s Park won on penalties

Final

The Bearded Monkeys - 1	All Stars - 2
Mikey	Charlie, George

Tournament Summaries…(please add your own)

Every team performed to a high level yet the results don’t reflect the true guile and quality of the performances of the real champions that day. Please take a moment and think back to the masterful display of the peoples favourite. QP, notoriously slow starters, were on the verge of self-destruct, heads down, confidence at an all time low then forward stepped the talisman, Mr Watson, to take the reins and awake the sleeping giant!?

Callum

Hero is a word that is banded about too often. With the wind in their hair, the QP heroes took to the field with an obvious player down. The oooh’s and aaah’s could be heard from the crowd, as QP dazzled with purpose, vigour, and flare, like the noise at a fire works display. After beating the overall winners and drawing with bitter rivals Bearded Monkeys, QP showed who were the real winners.

Owen

Player of the Tournament…

Tom Quested

Top Scorers…

Player	Team	Goals
Scott	Total Football	5
Ryan	The All Stars	4
Tom	The Bearded Monkeys	4
Mikey	The Bearded Monkeys	4

All jokes and biased opinions aside, thanks to everyone for turning up and making it a memorable day. This tournament is something Max always wanted to organise but unfortunately it never quite came about, although he did come close a couple of years ago. He and Josh spent weeks and countless phone calls putting together a small tournament in Hampstead Heath but the night before continued a little longer than planned with most of our team ending up at the bottom of Max’s garden at around eight in the morning discussing tactics and drinking Pimms, prepared by Max and with all the trimmings of course, which was followed by a bottle of red wine. I remember seeing Seamus and Victoria coming down for breakfast just as we were leaving. After a bit of a nap we made our way down there, a few hours late and not quite at full fitness, but by the time we actually found it, about another hour or so later, everyone else had pretty much had enough. We did manage a game, which I think was one of the rare occasions the older lot got the better of us. So for the tournament to come together like this was a truly apt tribute to his memory and something I hope will continue and maybe even grow in the next few years. Hope to see all you Newcastle boys there next year and obviously our little midfield wizard Ize, we missed ya! Thanks to Josh for everything.

Louis

Max - from Lucy Attwood

Although I am not in London and around some of the people that truly loved Max, I am still thinking of him. I've been in Spain for a couple of months now and have got to know of Cadiz. And what a clever choice it was from Max, many friends have lived in Spain, but none in Cadiz. Pretty much one of the oldest settlements, by the sea, seriously beautiful and has the best carnival in Andalusia.

It was going to be hard to write what I wanted to say, but writing about Max and the courage he gives you makes it easier. It still took a while!

I had the honour of living with Ize in the final year of uni. I was a little dubious at first. After arriving at one of our house parties in Leeds, Ize had a munch, then promptly fell asleep in the comfiest cotch in the room and started snoring loudly, I don't remember much of the house party but I do remember Ize. Luckily I had met Max previously and in finding out that Ize was one of his oldest friends it all seemed all right. Which it was, I now take great pleasure in the rare occasion that I get to share a cotch with Ize.

From the first moment I met Max he made me happy whether he knew it or not. He was unbelievably open, honest (although when it came to girls he had the gift of the gab), funny and so inviting, you just wanted to give him everything.

I had the pleasure of watching him at work across London at the big events, he was uniquely gifted with communicating with all shapes and sizes. And the occasionally borrowed booze. I so respected him for the attention he paid to people and his work. He was a law unto his own. Although I felt like I had known him for time, I was only at the initial stages of what was to be a great friendship it had only just begun. The last time we were together he floored me on Old Street, I like to think of it as a sign of affection. Ize claims that Max convinced me to flash them both back at Ize's paddling pool. So cheeky.

Max was quite amazing, and it has been so sad for what has been left behind. I have never met anyone who was so true to his heart, loyal and a great friend. I am sure that he is watching over us and part of him will be with us forever.

Deepest condolence to the whole family, I hope that time heals in some way. Max made a big impact on me, he was truly magical..

Much love
Lucy

From Ize

Like most people, i too feel the summer brings Max back more than ever. Or really, it makes you feel his abscence more than ever. The World Cup has also been a completely different experience. This is what he loved. Summer days and attacking football, amazing goals. I can hear his screams of enjoyment at so many of these goals. "Sick Goal! BadBoy!". He payed such attention to the whole game though. He wouldn't just see the shot that i would see but the positioning, the technique, the movement of all the players...the whole picture and all the parts that led to the goal. Also the internationalness of it all. His embrace of others and their cultures...he loved it so much. Pure, genuine joy at the size and variety of the world.

The last World Cup happened to fall when we were travelling. The third picture here was us in Bali. We watched the final there. That seems like another world, another bunch of people. I have that picture up at work though so i can see the boys whenever i want. Sometimes it's pretty hard to look at, somtimes i just stare at it for ages.

The middle picture is Max in Bologna last summer when we were visiting Lou. At the memorial match in March I remember talking to O about how long he was going to stay and play for. He said, i'm staying till the end, that's what Max would have done. Its true, so we did. He was always the last. I like this picture. It's just kind of peaceful, natural, easy.

The first picture is just a bunch of little rats, still in primary school. I find it easier to look at pictures of us as young'uns. i also have this picture up in my room. It can make me smile without too much pain. Check out his tie-dye t-shirt. I'm pretty sure it was from the Salusbury School Summer Fair. That was the biggest day of the year back then. Those memories are unchanging and almost unaffected. We were never going to stay that age for ever and it's natural to evolve and move away from that time. That's why they are easier to look at. That time came and went as it was supposed to. So sometimes it's easier to remember that time and enjoy it for what it was. Easy summers, running around Queens Park, letting the grown-ups do the worrying.

Thinking of you all this summer.

All my love. Ize. xxx

(Jay, Ize, Max, O, Paul Summers)


(Back: Lou, O, Dash, Ize. Front: Hugh, Max)

Max up a tree

Hey, this is Jacob, a QPer and old friend. As Millie said, the sun and summer has really brought the Max back to me too. I'm staying at my parents house temporarily between flats overlooking the park, and he's been hanging around my head more than ever.

I wanted to post this, because while browsing a friends website (Maya, who's living in San Diego at the moment and misses everyone) I came across this picture of Max that needed to be shared, up a tree at the back of the garden. He'd raced Seb up there, and as you can see by Seb's feet, Max lost the race. It was a really hot day as well, we'd had a barbeque on the patio. Yet another memory of laughs and giggles in Max's saturating presence.

Love J.

THE MAX O'CONNELL CUP

From Josh Mendelsohn:

On Saturday 8th July the Max O’Connell Cup will be played at Westway Sports Centre between 1 and 7 pm.

Note the new time - one hour later.

The tournament will be played between 5 teams who either played with or played against Max over the years, either in Queen’s Park or at school, etc. Each team will play 4 games each, with the top two teams going through to a final. The winners will be awarded the Max O’Connell Cup and have their team name engraved on the trophy. There will also be additional prizes and a 'Max of the Day' award for the player of the tournament.

We are hoping that the tournament will become an annual event to honour Max’s footballing memory, so please make sure you’re there to support your team and the event. The tournament takes place a day before England feature in the World Cup Final so everyone should be suitably in the mood to enjoy the football on show. Come along and bring the noise!

The five teams that will feature are listed below:
Magnum Force Six
The Bearded Monkeys
North Pad Old Boys
Dave Stars
Team 5 (Team Name TBC)

If anyone would like to contribute to the event in anyway please feel free to email or call myself or Louis. All contributions would be greatly appreciated.
Josh 07976 917 140
Louis 07947 449 584

Please see below for a link to Westway Sports Centre and how to get there. Please note that the tournament will be played on the Astro-turfed 6 a-side pitch and NOT the concrete pitches which are located elsewhere. As it's an Astro-turf pitch, moulds or trainers are fine but studs are not permitted.

Click here for how to get to there

sunny days

Hello,
this is Millie, a general Queens Park head and close friend of Zara. I've been thinking about Max quite a bit recently and I know exactly why.

The aftermath of his death and the funeral was a hard and sad time, however, many people naturally filtered back to their lives and got on with things. I knew the arrival of summer would make me more aware of his absence. I can't walk past or through the park without conjuring him in my head.

I walk past the end of his road and think of conversations we had about the funny gas smell on 'our' corner of the park. I ring on Zara's (and Ize's) doorbell and wait to see any combination of the Ize, Max, Owen, Louis, Dash crew lounging in the kitchen. I lie on the grass by the bandstand and wait for the game of kick ups to begin.

For me Max is part of the furniture, like the bandstand itself. Always there, part of the scenery of our sunny special park. He's just the person you want to bump into when you cruise past the Salusbury to see if anyone else is floating around. You're guaranteed an enlightening, entertaining and enthusiastic conversation even if you hadn't seen him in months.

I miss the huge park gatherings that haven't really happened so far this summer. I can't help but wonder how much that is to do with his absence. The post World Cup kickabouts lack a certain flair that even I, a strict observer can detect.

I've got a picture of Max, Rosy, Anna, Eleanor and Lelia in the park about 4 years ago. There we are, in one of the many combinations of Parkers just being together on the grass, waiting for something or nothing to happen.

I try my best to imagine that Max is still there, lounging, smiling and interacting with whoever is in earshot.

x
Millie

For Max

I am Sandar, Isaac’s mum. Ize is one of The Boys and I am one of The Mums. We have been growing up with each other for many years.

I enjoyed being part of them in my role as chauffeur, mean mummy, or cheer leader. Isaacowenmaxdashandlouis was a five headed being which roamed around Queens Park, collected in the local school ground, slumped over the furniture, and raided the fridge. They wore the same clothes, loved the same sport (but not teams), and grew into amazingly gorgeous young men.

Max was in a group of boys who were his equal. He was loved and loved in return openly and unreservedly. When Max was too wilful, they tempered him. When they were too reticent, he encouraged them. When the five boys were in the house I would hear their constant teasing and joking. They might be watching telly or playing video games but one could still hear Owen’s wise-guy cracks, Max’s wacky observations, Dash’s caustic take, Louis’s quiet comment, or Ize's sensible remark. The boys were lucky to have found each other and as the years went on, they knew it.

The Mums became friends as well. We ferried the boys to playgroup, dropped them off for parties or play after school. We arranged half-term visits and holidays together. We performed at school events as The Housewives from Hell and gained quite a reputation as embarrassing mums. We put them on the bus to Gordon Brown, the ski trips, the gap year, and slowly we too were woven into the fabric of the community of Boys. We are all so mixed up that my love for Isaac overlaps with my love for them all. I didn’t even realise this was happening.

I miss Max. His lanky droll manner, his twinkling eyes, his slightly nasal voice, his sweetness and vulnerability. I remember his steady progression from a boy who was adorable but slightly maddening to one who was witty and lovely. I remember chats in the kitchen when Max was worried or dejected about life. He was so open and real about his concerns. I remember leading the boys somewhere when they were little and Max as usual was ambling behind the group, amiable and absorbed. “Get with the program, Max”, I would shout and he’d quicken his pace, for a moment.

At the big football match for Max a friend explained to me why Max was such a good footballer. He said that most people played by strategic rules but Max played by Freedom.

I have found Max’s death to be unbearable. Tears are liable to well up in my eyes at anytime and catch me by surprise. I know that our memories will be forever divided between when Max was alive and After Max died. He couldn’t have imagined such a thing.

I am greatly helped by our mutual support. We stand together like musk ox taking the cruel winter blast of death - dumb but strengthened by the herd. Is this what will make it bearable? Is this what will carry us through the next year? It is so early and we all have so much further to go. However, I am comforted by the love and care Max gave and got. Reading your memories and stories helps me see Max again and know him a bit better.

The last time I saw Max, I was passing his house, he was in his front bedroom. He had been over the night before to say goodbye, so he had obviously missed his plane. He looked out, shrugged, and we both blew extravagant kisses to each other. My goodbye, it turned out, was joyous and ridiculous and spontaneous. Quite fitting for this wonderful guy.

Love, Sandar

"TODAY" (16/6/06)

I swam out to sea today
I cried your name
They said you are dead
I cry again.

You died at sea
So I swam deep
To find the waters
Where you sleep

I swam to be
Part of the sea
So you could be
A part of me

Where are you Max?
You're far away
But in our broken hearts you stay.

Some feelings about Max being gone

I oscillate between two feelings: unbearable pain and numbness (occasionally interspersed with moments of hysterical laughter). There is a need to numb the pain because it gets too much to bear. But then when you’re numb you feel like you’re not in touch with his death, like it’s not real, or like Max is not real, and then you get terrified that you’re accepting the fact that Max is dead, that Max being dead is going to become normal, and Max being alive is a thing of the past. And then you think of him being alive, when you were with him, saw him, heard him, touched him. And then you can’t believe that HE is actually DEAD. Then you cry and cry and scream at him through the walls and beat your fists into the furniture and ask the ceiling ‘Why?’ But you never get an answer. And you can’t believe you won’t see or hear from him ever again. That no-one will. And for the rest of all our lives Max will always be dead. Then life looks really long and hard and bleak and you long for the ache to go away for a while.

So you get up, you go somewhere, you do something, you see someone, something makes you smile. And the pain is numbed. And the numbness feels ok for a while. And pretty soon the periods of numbness get longer and the periods of twisting agony get further apart. And soon you start to actually enjoy doing the other, not Max-related things, when you’re not thinking about Max for a while. When you’re not thinking about the fact that he’s actually dead. Or about his parents who’ve lost their son; or his sister who is now an only child; or the friends who knew him since they were tiny and expected always to know him; or the others who all thought of Max as one of their best friends because he had the time for them; or the girl he was seeing who really thought a lot of him and now thinks of him even more; or about yourself and what you’ve lost, what you shared together for so many years, how you helped to make each other, how you sometimes became confused because you couldn’t tell where you ended or where he began, how he cared so much about you and now there’s so much of you he’ll never know; or about how he was so young and vibrant and would love to be alive right now, just like he used to be; or about how his death is such a waste of life.

You don’t think about all these sad, sad things for a while. For a minute, an hour, a few hours, a day, a few days. Until the next time it hits you or washes over you. And then you think about all the sad things that come from Max dying. And even if it’s been a couple of days since you really, really thought about it, it still hurts just as much, but you’re glad that it hurts you so. Because if you hurt this much then you know that he was real, and that you loved him, and that you shared so much life together, and that he must have lived, before he died.

Rosy

Missing Max

Hi,

My name's Jo and I was part of the close-knit group in Cadiz. I've been thinking a lot of Max lately, especially as the seasons are definitely changing, and I can't help but think that here in Cadiz, this was what we were waiting for...beach life. However, with Max not here to enjoy it, life has taken a turn and it's not how we expected it to be. It's also such a shame, as Max was one of the people who appreciated the scenery and laid back lifestyle here the most. His flat was also directly opposite a gorgeous beach, so we used to hang out there everyday, mainly to facilitate his totty spotting. During the winter months I used to get a morning weather update from Max via text to let me know "it's blazin' mate, get over here on the terrace for some tanning and Spanish grammar" - well he certainly knew how to make learning the subjunctive tense a lot more appealing! He always said he couldn't wait for the summer and he, Steph and I had planned to stay here for the summer together and it's such a shame that he won't be here with us.

Max was always the one to make the most of a situation or moment, which is one of the things I loved the most about him...he made everything fun! I remember the day after my 21st birthday party, Max, Steph and I met up to re-run the night's events, and as a result of the stonking hangovers, Steph and I would've been more than content to sit back and chill at his with cups of tea and nibbling his endless supply of white choc with smarties inside, but Max had other plans and said we couldn't head home until we'd explored all the backstreets of Cadiz. Steph and I always say what a fun day this was, especially the kiddies park! Max wasn't even deterred by the rain, and insisted on walking at least half the way back to take in the views. A true positivist until the end!

Despite Max's admirable ability to find something to do out of nothing, as many people have written on this blog, the thing I miss the most is doing nothing in particular with Max; just hanging out at his, making random, yet interesting converstion around the kitchen whilst cooking, and his good ear and honest advice. We'd often sit around and cook together in his kitchen, but beforehand there would always be the eternal argument over which music to cook to - he assumed that I, being a girl from Watford would love his Garage music, but he was wrong, so we'd hussle over songs until always agreeing on Ray Charles, The Pharcyde or Beats Assailant 'Dirty Dozen', and Max was the only other person I knew who also knew the last listed song, so I always used to put it on in the bar I DJ at when he walked in, which was swiftly followed by "Yes Jo". I miss seeing those curly blonde locks strolling in the bar, but whenever I hear these songs I smile and think of him!

The other day my housemate Simon was playing old videos and I could hear Max's voice from my room. Hearing his voice made me realise even more how much I miss him, it made his absence more evident yet, and although it was painful to listen to, it was also lovely, as I could feel a little closer to him for a moment again and hold onto his voice and laughter and his silly jokes. That's also why I think this blog is such a good idea too, as you feel like you're keeping the legend of Maxieflash alive, so keep the stories flowing.

One last thing, I'm attemting to attach some photos with this blog, but I am terrible with computers, it they come out, there should be two of Max and I on the swings - he was attemting to do a perfect jump into the camera, but it didn't quite work out. There should also be another of Max with Fabien, a friend here in Cadiz, on my birthday. It was fancy dress and Max had come as a hip-hop ghetto boy so he was doing his take on that in the photo. And finally there's a photo that I took of him on his balcony...a typical day, which you all probably received in an email, we were just amazed at how "blazin'" it was so we took photos to send back in emails to make everyone envious of the weather. He said he would've given his friends a prize if anyone had worked out that the picture he sent, entitled 'sunrise' wasn't really sunrise (we were never up before 3pm) as the sun wouldn't have risen and set in the same place (sharp thinking lad).

Love to everyone,

Jo

For Max

Dear Max,

It has taken me a while to write this because, to tell you the truth I really haven't been able to face up to it. But today I remembered a conversation me and you had at mine and Owens birthday party on January 7th, when we promised each other we would stop putting things off, that we would keep emailing, keep calling when you were back in London and make sure we would see each other. Chloe and I always wanted to live in Queens Park just so we could be closer to you lot and coz it was so bloody hard getting you out of da area ya na!!! Shit babe, I really miss you. I have been seeing the boys but wish it could be more often, people have started to get on with their lives but now you are with us everyday and every moment. I wish I told you how much I loved you, from the moment you kissed me in the library at hampstead to arguing with you in Spanish because you always knew how to wind me up, to you and Rosie being so in love, I have cherished and enjoyed being your friend. Memories come back to me at times I don't expect and I wish I could freeze them, step in and get a great big hug from you, a warm neck breaking hug. I will never stop celebrating you darling, you have made such an effect on all the lives you have been part of, and not many people can say that.

I LOVE YOU from elena smellena!!

Els xxx

From his Belgian friend in Cadiz

Hi,

my name is Simon, I was one of Max' good friends here in Cadiz. I've been wanting to write something to this blog for a long time now, but I just couldn't find the courage to do it. The last week it has become clear to me that there is still a lot of pain left in me and that I loved Max more then I ever imagined. I realised that last week, when I was going out, and I passed the place where he fell in the water, and I just started crying and had to go home after that. And then just now, as I was watching some video's I made earlier this year, my housemate (she knew Max very well too) bursted out in tears by hearing the sound of Max' voice. It was then I decided I had to write to this blog, and I felt guilty I hadn't done it before.

I, like all of the other Erasmus-students here in Cadiz, have only known Max for about 5 months, but that was enough time to see what a brilliant person he was. He became one of my best friends here, and together with the English we formed a group of friends that saw each other every day and over time became unseparable. We hung out together almost every night and it was us he was with on the night of the accident. That night was the turning point of this year, nothing has ever been the same after that. The first 5 months here have been the best of my life, and Max had a lot to do with that. He was always so full alive, always the one to cheer you up when you were feeling a bit down and always the one to give you that one great compliment that would make up for a bad day. I never thought I would miss this that much. I guess you always kind of take these things for granted until they're not there anymore. I wish now that I could have told him how much I appreciated his friendship and how big an aspect of this year he was for me. When I look back on this year in Cadiz now, with the end in sight, I split in up in 2 periods: there's the time I had with Max, and the time I had without him. I whish I could have known him forever!

My deepest sorry to the family and friends,
Simon Vandekerckhove

PS: This is a picture of me and Max in better times

max

hi,

my name is tom. i was a good friend of max's in cadiz and i used to go to his regularly before being out to the botellon to meet more people. the only thing i can really say to explain max is how i first really got to know him. basically i was wandring around the botellon looking for someone to help me out apart from my spanish house mates and max came along and introduced me to a load of natives. the main thing about that was i didnt know anyone beforehand and i got to know so many nice people from his introdution, even though he had only been in spain a couple of weeks before me. he was one of those sort of people. i learnt so much from max about how to interact and be with people and it hurts that i couldnt keep things going and i couldnt really keep our relationship going. i stayed at his place a load of times. i helped him get to the bus stop so he could get the plane home at xmas. he was the link also between all nationalties; but what is most is i will miss max, ill miss watching the extras from ciudade de deus or talking about spurs. ill miss the fact that ill take the train to newcastle next year but ill open see steph rob and the rest..... no max. ill miss him infinitely.

Max

From Celia:

The first time I met Max was some time near the end of first year at Newcastle on the 8th floor of Castle Leazes. It was a fleeting encounter but I remember thinking immediately that he was a legend with an amazing infectious smile. I was pretty pleased to find that we’d be living on the same street when we moved out of halls. The next time we saw each other was after some drunken night in the first week of Second year when I suddenly recalled that 'some cool guy called Max' lived next door but one – What a great time to go and re-introduce myself I thought! It seems strange now that I should have remembered him so vividly, it had been at least four months since we had met and even then we had barely spoken. But that’s the kind of person Max is, instantly unforgettable and someone you just know you want to become friends with, who can only add to your life.

It was quite anti-socially late and I was slightly the worse for wear but he was really friendly and charming and didn't take the piss (too much!), invited me and my housemate in to his kitchen where we continued to drink and chat.

Given this ominous introduction, our friendship was not a total non-starter – something which I consider to be testimony to his amazingly welcoming personality. I was lucky enough to see lots of Max for the rest of uni - whether it was on nights out, playing football down our road, chilling out in our house or seeing him just goofing about with the boys. He was a constant presence for those two years and it is therefore so hard to come to terms with, and reconcile, the fact that he is gone.

The times we all spent together on Devonshire Place were pretty idyllic, making Max’s death all the more shocking and unbelievable. It makes those amazing years feel even more like a dream, particularly when you discover that real life can bring changes more shattering and damaging than you could ever imagine. It’s hard to comprehend just how much has been altered within the space of a year and even more impossible to convey this in writing. Nothing I could write will ever do Max justice and I sometimes feel like I almost don’t want to put the memories into words because I know I’ll never find the right ones.

All I can really say is that Max was an incredible guy who I will never forget and I feel privileged to have so many happy memories of him. You are so missed Maximus.

The photos are of Max and Russ at our Cowboys and Indians House party in January 2005 and Benji, Toller and Max some other time, I'm not too sure when.

a little blog

From Steph in Spain:

I spoke really briefly about my time with Max in Spain at the wake after the funeral. How despite not spending every second of my time with him, I considered Max one of my closest friends here. Getting back to normality here was hard. It still is if I'm completely honest. Not a day goes by that I don't think about him, that I don't walk past 'our coffee shop', or that I don't wish he could pop over my flat (even just for a cig and a chat about nothing.)

After the funeral I did go back to England after initially returning to Spain, as I couldn't quite handle things here. To have come to Cadiz in September, as a foreign student, we all expected a year filled with new experiences. NEVER did I expect that one of those would be seeing one of my new friends dying. Never. Even as I write this I still can't believe what happened that night. At times I look at videos of Max and us lot over here and think 'fuck - he really has gone'.

I was flicking through photos and videos from February, and came across one from a friend's birthday party here. One I hadn't seen before. Anyway - It took a while to get started but then it focuses on Max (as usual he looks comfortable acting up to the camera, swearing in Spanish and with fag in hand.) Towards the end of the filming Max leans over and gives me a cuddle. I really miss those cuddles.

xxx steffy xxx

'YES Jermaine!'

Sitting back here on my computer smiling to myself thinking of the random times n places I would occasionally bump into Max like in the Irish or Salusbury (What can I say the man loved his puds) he would always greet me with ‘YES Jermaine’ and have that classic cheeky grin on his face where by your not too sure if he’s smiling with or at you! Anyways we would never talk for long or talk about the important things going on in the world just chat about nothing and catch up but I would always leave thinking of what a safe guy he was and glad that I had bump into him.

The times that really stand out for me though are on the football pitch (where else). There’s this particular time that I’ll never forget playing with the boyz about 30 aside in Queen’s park about 10 years ago anywayz I’m not sure if Max was on my team or not I just remember his amazed laughing face and shouting out ‘OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH YES Jermaine’ as I masterly flicked the ball over DASH’s head (Twice) when he came to TRY n tackle me! (haha) I probably lost the ball straight after that but it meant a lot since I had the approval of the great man himself. This wasn’t the first time either that he said something that stuck with me but I’ll leave that for another day.

I think the greatest complement I can pay him is that he was a better person than a footballer and I’ll miss our lil chats about nothing.

One

The LOVELY Max

This is Max, Emma, Nat and Isaac dressed up as sailors for a Mecco job at Proms in the Park September 2005 x x

Without fail Max would always put a smile on my face and I'm sure many others, whatever mood I was in he managed to cheer me up. Turning up to work for the 15th day in a row for another 12 hour shift feeling a little weary, I would have Max bounding up to me saying "Alright mate," and I knew I would be in for a mischief filled evening. The last time I saw Max is a prime example, it was the last night at Christmas for Mecco and we were behind the bar and we had to fill glasses with ice, anyway needless to say, as Max was around it ended up as a massive ice fight which I lost!!

The photo above was another very amusing day with Max and Isaac, Max was very excited about the fact we got to dress up and not wear uniform for the day. He thought it might be another excuse to get us out of doing any work.

It's definitely fair to say that Max you will be massively missed by everyone, working at Mecco will never be the same again. But all your jokes and the fantastic memories you have given us will be with us forever.

All my love

Nat x x x

Max the only person I have ever met that after standing on his feet for 12 hours on about 5 hours sleep, with a bit of sore head would still have a big smile and a cuddle that never failed to cheer the recipient up!

I had the pleasure of working with Max at Mecco for the past couple of years and what a fun time its been. My fondest memory of Max would have to be when he, Isaac, Nat and I dressed up at Sailors at Proms in the park last summer. We looked absolutely ridiculous, which we tried to style out as reminiscent of a Jean Paul Gautier advert (Looking back Id say we looked more like a Primark advert now). Nat and I had so much make up on; it weighed our faces down and the most uncomfortable shoes. I remember as usual moaning for the better part of the night. But Max kept making us all laugh, with all of his sailor related puns and terrible singing of Queen, which was playing in the background.

I am also delighted to say we had a joke with the legend that is Bruce Forsyth. I think he said something along the lines of what time do we set sail? To which Max responded with a rather forced laugh, mainly due to the fact it was the 10th time we had heard it in 5 minutes and Max was annoyed someone stole his material.

Max reading all the comments your friends and family have written proves that even though you're no longer with us, all the stories, laughs and good times you have given us all will keep you alive forever.

It goes without saying you'll be missed and I every time I see a stripy blue top, a sailor or Jean Paul Gautier advert I will think of you!

All my love

Emma xxx

Yet Another Day

It is friday afternoon and I have just finished work. It is a beautiful day today so i decided to buy a can of coke and go to the park. I sat down by the band stand, where we always sit. I opened the coke and took my fags out of the pouch of my filthy overalls. I have sat there all my life. I stared at the winter walk way where it had become second nature to see Max trooting down towards me. Sunny days have been put in a bottle and thrown to sea, i guess there is a tiny hope that someone will find the bottle and come and help. He still can make me laugh when i remeber funny stories, however I can't make him laugh no matter how hard I try. I want to help him, but end up feeling useless and stupid. I find it hard to look at photos and then feel guilty for not wanting to look at him. My thoughts rarely drift from his side, and i feel stange to know that death must have brushed past me on its way to Max. I get angry that death could of left us alone and let us get on with our trouble free adventure. But guess what it turns out that life IS unfair and it doesn't have time for anyone, no matter how many good deeds you have done that day. If you can take anything from this mess, it is the realisation that you really do get only 'one shot'. And we have still got ours no matter how bleak it seems, we are still hanging on to its coat tales.

Lots of love Owen.

ps, can all the heads in cadiz please email me all your email addresses, mine is on my profile.