4th October at the Irish

On 4th October Max would have been, should have been, celebrating his 26th birthday.

As many of you will remember, he always celebrated these occasions with much gusto. Perhaps he would have celebrated this birthday at the Irish, who can say.

The usual room has been booked there from 8pm on Saturday 4 October and it would be lovely if as many of you as possible could join us to remember him.

For the few who may not know the Irish, the new name is The Corrib Rest, Salusbury Road, London NW6.

Best wishes,
Victoria and Seamus

Football Tournament

The third Max O'Connell Football Tournament took place on Saturday 12 July at the Lynford Christie Sports Stadium. It was organised mainly by Louis Russell, who was unable to play owing to injury, and who instead spent a great deal of time and effort making sure everything ran in a smooth and trouble-free manner. Which it did, so congratulations to Louis.

I think there might have been more teams than last year; there certainly seemed to be a lot of people around, mainly players but spectators as well. Some of the Queen's Park parents provided food again, and Remel, Louis's nephew, organised the refreshments tent in a very cool and efficient manner.

Once again the Cup was won by the West Hampstead All Stars, who beat the Older Lot (maybe not their official title but the one I always hear them called) by 2 goals to 1. It was an exciting final, but in the end the West Hampstead team again seemed that much fresher and faster. The Max of the Day award went to Adam Newton, one of the winning side.

I find it hard to believe that there have now been three tournaments since Max died. For us it is a bitter-sweet occasion, so sad that it should be taking place at all, but also such a pleasure that so many of his friends want to remember him in this way. It is surely the most fitting celebration of his life. We would like to thank the organisers, and all those who took part and made the Tournament an exciting and enjoyable, if exhausting, day.

The winners - West Hampstead All Stars


Max used to be No 10
David's T shirt




The Queen's Park team shirt


Please feel free to add more photos.

Victoria

Max O'Connell Cup Note

Hi all,

I'm sad that I won't be able to attend this year's football celebration.

I've wanted to type something on this blog for a while but I haven't been able to find the right words.

I've lived in the States for 5 years, and I simply can't think of football, or home, without thinking of Max and the Queen's Park crew. There's something really special about the community we all formed there, parents and kids... and there's nothing like kicking a ball about with you guys. Have a great day tomorrow!

I wanna take this chance to pay homage to the Paddington Boys (1996-7?) football team, of which Max was a member. I'm now being paid to do something that I would gladly do for free, coach football. But my career and practical education started with you guys. I learned alot with you and every success, every victory is yours.

A big hug to all of Max's loved ones.

Have a great summer!

Pedro.

Max O'Connell Cup 2008

Hello all, 

the Max O'Connell Cup will be held on Saturday 12th July this year at the Linford Christie Stadium. Same as last year for all those that came along, for those that didn't it is next to Wormwood Scrubs with the entrance and car park down Artillery Lane, off Du Cane Road.

Click here for directions

At the moment it looks like we've got twelve teams which will mean three groups of four. It is six-a-side and will cost £35 per team. We hoping to kick off at noon so we should all aim to meet there at around elevenish. Depending how it all goes it should run until six. My number is 07947449854 if anyone wants to put a team in or needs directions.

There will be food and drinks for those who want to come and watch, but all help would of course be much appreciated.

Look forward to seeing you all there...

Louis

Remembering Max

On the evening of 26 February a group of us met together to remember Max, and also of course to catch up with one another's lives, and to wonder what Max might have been doing now, had he lived. We lit twenty-three candles, one for each year of his life, and Peter Cutts, Owen's father, read a poem by Brian Patten which seemed to express so well our thoughts about loss and remembrance.


So Many Different Lengths of Time

Cuanto vive el hombre por fin? Vive mil dias o uno solo?
Una semana o varios siglos? Por cuanto tiempo muere el hombre?
Que quiere decir 'para siempre'?
Preocupado per este asunto me dedique a aclarar las cosas.

— PABLO NERUDA

How long is a man's life, finally?
Is it a thousand days, or only one?
One week, or a few centuries?
How long does a man's death last?
And what do we mean when we say, 'gone forever'?

Adrift in such preoccupations, we seek clarification.
We can go to the philosophers
but they will grow tired of our questions.
We can go to the priests and the rabbis
but they might be too busy with administrations.

* * *

So, how long does a man live, finally?
And how much does he live while he lives?
We fret, and ask so many questions —
then when it comes to us
the answer is so simple.

A man lives for as long as we carry him inside us,
for as long as we carry the harvest of his dreams,
for as long as we ourselves live,
holding memories in common, a man lives.

His lover will carry his man's scent, his touch;
his children will carry the weight of his love.
One friend will carry his arguments,
another will hum his favourite tunes,
another will still share his terrors.

And the days will pass with baffled faces,
then the weeks, then the months,
then there will be a day when no question is asked,
and the knots of grief will loosen in the stomach,
and the puffed faces will calm.
And on that day he will not have ceased,
but will have ceased to be separated by death.
How long does a man live, finally?

A man lives so many different lengths of time.

BRIAN PATTEN (1946-)

Max supported Spurs

Max in a Spurs top with a suitable expression on his face.

Requested by Owain Thomas, Little O.


Was taken when on holiday in Spain with Dash. Might have been the year of an earlier Spurs success.

Two years on

For the past week or so I’ve found my self thinking about Max a lot as the 2 year anniversary of that terrible night in Cadiz approached. Not so much with sad thoughts as it was at this time a year ago, but memories that make me smile and laugh and also to a growing extent, thoughts of what life would be like if Max were still here with us. I usually imagine him living nearby in Newcastle. I imagine how much he would have enjoyed the flat that I live in for two main reasons. Firstly, we have all the sports channels and four fanatical football watchers. I think he would have enjoyed taking part in some of the heated football debates and the ‘who’s the best’ conversations that regularly emerge. And secondly, we have a long living room that is filled with balls of all types, and we often just kick a football up and down the living room. I remember a bunch of footballing lessons that Max taught me in Cadiz, sometimes on a pitch but more often than not in our spacious, cockroach infested kitchen (using a volleyball as a stand-in for a real football) so I think he would have relished the chance to ‘teach us’ (aka show off) his football skills. Another thing which has brought Max to the forefront of my mind was the Carling Cup football on Sunday. Such a fitting tribute to Max that his team has won the cup on that Sunday which marked the two years.

I have also just been to visit Max’s tree in the Newcastle Uni campus. It is nice to see that it is standing up, tall and strong, to all the things that life has to throw at it (most prominent of which is the ridiculous amount of wind around Newcastle today). I’m very pleased to see how symbolic the tree has become, not only in reflecting Max’s personality and physique but also showing how it is possible to stand up tall and strong even in difficult times such as this. Also, there was a beautiful bouquet of flowers at the foot of the tree from Max’s family. As always, my thoughts and most sincere sympathy is with you and with all of Max’s friends.

And finally, a message to Max. We all miss you, mate. The two years that have passed have possibly dulled some of the pain I felt but the joyful memories live on and will continue to live on inside me while I still draw breath. I hope you’re up there right now teaching everyone you meet the wonders and joys of attacking football in the enthusiastic and infectious manner that only you can pull off. Thanks for being there and making the short time I knew you such a fantastic time. Take care, Max.

Gary

A Sonnet: To an Absent Friend

Your death I know will haunt me till I die
Some days I wake, it's a sad morning song
Some nights it is my lonely lullaby
It's always there whispering 'You are gone'.

It is a station for my train of thought
No matter what bright lights guide my journey,
No matter what passengers I have brought,
It's always a destination for me.

Sometimes I want to lose control and scream.
I want to punch slap scratch kick hit someone,
To hurt them so my pain the less will seem,
But your death will still be there when I'm done.

So live with your death is all I can do,
Live and learn... and laugh... and love... without You.





Pictures of Max on Christmas Eve 2005.