A Year On

I can't believe it's been a year since Max went. I feel that the day Max did die will always be remembered as the most horrific one of my life. I don't feel it right to compare how I felt then and how I feel now, as only after we accepted and understood this loss did the Cadiz group start any sort of process of personal healing. It is a commonly used phrase to say that time can heal just about anything, but, even for me, who only knew Max for a few months, there will always be moments when I think back on what happened to him and feel the colour drain from my face. Looking back at what actually happened to Max, I can not see it as anything but an incredibly unfortunate event. Max was larking around, but that was Max and to take that away from him would be to extinguish part of his character. He deserved better, without doubt. I have found refuge in thinking about it pragmatically. It makes no sense to keep getting yourself caught up in the tragedy of it. The conclusion of this process for me came when I realised that there was no way of completely feeling better or letting the memories go. However, I think my way of coping is to try to cling onto the other memories I have of him. I've still got the baseball top I was wearing from that night in my wardrobe at uni. I can't get round to cleaning it. It doesn't remind me as much of the moment of Max's death than the amazing time we were having beforehand, so I guess it's more symbolic of how together we were as a group.

I want to also add that my thoughts have been increasingly with Max's family and close friends at this time of the year. In fact, my wishes go out to all those who are reading this blog.

Tomas Corbyn, xx

Max - the best friend I never met

It has taken me a lot of time to pluck up the courage to read this blog, as I have felt for a long time that I had no right to. I was one of the Cadiz Erasmus students, and yet I never met Max, as I arrived in Spain merely hours after his untimely death. One of my best friends from Durham university, Tom, had been in Cadiz since September and before my arrival he had told me about how amazing life out there was. I think Tom could tell that I was apprehensive about coming to an unknown lifestyle in Spain, but he assured me: "Don't worry, I'll get you introduced to all the Erasmus students, we'll have a great time. There's a few English people out here... Steph, Rob, Jo... And wait until you meet Max!"

I had spoken to Rob, Steph and Jo all before I came to Spain via MSN Messenger and email, but for some reason, even though I had Max's email address, I never got in contact with him. I suppose I just assumed I'd get to know him when I got to Cadiz.

When I arrived, Carnival was erupting - it was amazing. I had my heavy bag on this bus that was stuck in the middle of a road blocked with traffic, and I smiled to myself, knowing that from February till June, I was going to have some of the best moments of my life. And yet all the students I met were distraught. Absolutely shell-shocked. I did not realise at that point who Max was, and I don't think I ever will.

From an outsider's point of view, it was amazing to see what an incredible effect someone could have on so many people's lives. It's so strange seeing all these photos of people with Max, people that have since become some of my best friends, and not know the guy in the middle with the ever-present smile and curly hair. The more I read about him, the more I get upset that I never met him. I am certain we would have become amazing friends just from the everyone else's descriptions of him. And in a strange way, without ever meeting Max, and never knowing him or even hearing the sound of his voice, I feel like I do know him. He sincerely reminds me of someone, someone I can't put my finger on... I sort of feel that he reminds me of that person everyone knows. The funny guy, the cool guy, the one that everyone turns to and says, "What's the plan for tonight, mate?". The person you turn to if you have a problem, or if you want someone to cheer you up, or just someone to talk utter rubbish with. This is what Max is to me: the stranger I never met, the centre of attention, the one everyone knew, and most of all, the person everyone secretly wanted to be.

After reading the posts on this blog, I cannot imagine the pain Max's family must have gone through, and are still dealing with. It was very strange to briefly meet Max's parents in Nahu, without meeting the top lad himself, and I take the opportunity to apologise for what must have seemed a very rude introduction from myself. Mr and Mrs O'Connell - I was terrified.

The pain must be equally great for Max's friends, the ones from home, and the ones he met Cadiz. It is through you all that Max lives on. The only solace I hope you can find is that, although this person you knew, this life and soul of each and every party, has unfortunately passed on, please take comfort in the fact that you did know him. Although he was a big part of your life before passing away, please be glad that he did touch your life. In a very strange way, I feel he has touched mine.

Thanks, Ross Urmston

From Amy

Hello everyone,

I want to say that my thoughts have been on Max, his family and all his friends constantly since returning back from visiting everyone in London last week. I thought I was going to be alright yesterday, today, all week, but I'm not and wish I could be with the people that matter to me the most at such a time as this. Sometimes I think that being so far away in Leeds is beneficial in someway in helping to deal with what has happened but at the moment I just want to be with my friends.

I've come into work today because I want to keep my mind occupied but it is impossible, Max is all I can think about. I've got some really vivid memories of my time with him but equally vivid is every minute of this day last year.

My mum gave a book to read a while ago, and I've reading it again in the past week. There's a passage that I want to share with you all that I hope will touch you, as it did me the moment I read it:

'For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.'

I will always love Max for the presence he had when he walked into a room, his smile, his hugs; his undeniable ability to cheer us up after lending such a good ear. These are all the things I miss the most and always will. I now value my friendships in such a greater way (if possible) than ever before in my life. It has changed me ... and Max's ability to have such an effect on the people he met is what has become clear to me in the past year.

All my love,
Amy

From Susanne

Hello,

I just wanted to say that my thoughts are very much with you and of course Max today. I saw you briefly yesterday, thank you for opening your house to us Newcastle lot. I was in halls with Max in first year and met him through Amal and Tom Robinson. He came across straight away as a funny, friendly and very cool guy. Friends of mine turned out to also be friends of his as we all made more connections by 2nd and 3rd year (I lived with Jo Lewin, Ruth Barton etc on 29 Devonshire Pl in third year.) Having re-started studies on a different course I ended up in Max's film class and his tutorials on camera angles and pre-exam cramming were splendid help. As was the fact that he seemed to already know everyone in that year which neither of us started in, and I didn't know anyone in that class. He was a joy to be in lectures with, the banter making up for the at times dull material and he would always volunteer an answer or two.

The photos that I have attached are from three separate nights out. Sorry about the quality. One is from our Devonshire Place 'Cowboys and Indians' party, about the end of Jan 2005. Two more are from Sophie Hodges' birthday supper at Heartbreak Soup restaurant, January 15th 2005 and one more is before a big night out to StoneLove, May 2005.

Warmest regards,
Susanne Olbrich

From Hannah Cutts

I have been wanting to write again on the blog for a while and feel that now is a good time if there can be a 'good' time for such a thing. I am sorry not to have been in London over this last weekend and Monday.

This month has left me feeling very sad. As I go from day to day in my life in Manchester I think about Max and life seems to have moved on, but nearly a year later since Max's death it's as though nothing has moved on at all. The realisation that he is not coming back seems so dreadfully unfair and unjust. I knew Max as my friend's little brother and my little brother's friend so I don't feel as close to him as others. If I feel the way I do I can't even begin to imagine the loss Seamus, Victoria, Rachel, the boys and Max's closest friends are feeling. I want you to know that my love and strength goes out to you.

I feel an emormous love and warmth towards the community I grew up in and know that no matter how much time passes people don't really change. The friendships and relationships that have formed and reformed over this year are a credit to Max and his amazing abliity to bring people together.

I last spoke to Max just after Christmas and was I relaying messages to my brother who was driving about what they were going to get up to over New Year. Of course Max had a plan and it all sounded like a lot of fun. Secretly I wish I had been involved too!! I spoke to Owen afterwards and he said they had had a really great night.

Max was a lovely, smiley character who has inspired me to live for the moment.

My love and thoughts are with you all always,
Hannah

Thoughts from far away

We have been thinking so much about Max recently and somehow the space he's left behind seems even bigger. If the gap is raw and painful for us, we wonder what it must be like for those who are closest to him. Max has brought together a whole community of people who will all be at different stages and depths of grieving, but nevertheless united in trying to come to terms with their own sense of loss.

We have been remembering the way Max weaved and tumbled his way through our lives since he was a baby, growing through his teenage years into such a fine young man. Through this we have begun to understand the profound impact these 23 years had on his friendship with our son Owen and the love and brotherhood that bonded the five `boys´ together, namely Max, Louis, Dash, Isaac and Owen.

As we travel through South America we are reminded of the journeys Max, Rosie, the Boys and their friends have made through the world. As we stumble with our Spanish, we realise how Max was continuing his own journey in Spain and how his own understanding of this language was opening up new relationships and experiences for him.

Over the last year we have witnessed such compassion between those closest to Max and the vast community that his loss has brought together. The openess and humanity shown by Victoria, Seamus and Rachel have inspired ways for us to celebrate and mourn. The funeral and wake, the meals and drinks, the walks and talks, the football matches, the hugs, the sculpture and of course the tree have all provided us with opportunities to share our grief and to try and find ways to come to terms with what has happened.

We are so sorry we cannot be there at this time but send our love and thoughts to all of you who will be meeting up at this time.

Peter and Lindsay

I just remembered 'Smiley Max',

the famous poem by Remel, Louis' nephew. It is way down there near the begining of the blog. It could use some more lines...have a look...its brilliant

Thinking about Max

It's very true that now it has come to this time in the year I think of Max all the time. I find myself thinking and almost reliving the day in which I found out. I remember every detail like it was yesterday. The shock, the disbelief, thinking it was some horrible sick joke, the sadness and then the gradual realization of what this would mean for so many people - the incredible number of people that would be so devastated by this and how life for so many would never really be the same. Thinking about that day fills me with grief and sadness but thinking about Max can only really make me smile.

I think about him in the year room, at the pub, on the doorstep of the Deli in Queen's Park, in the park, in the bottom of his garden, at Rosy's house, at Anna's house, in the Long Room, in the Irish, in his kitchen, the list is endless. Lately I have found myself thinking about a particular memory over and over again.

It was four years ago on our gap year travels, we were in Malaysia (Perinthian Island), I was strolling to the sea on the most beautiful white beach. It was about half past eight in the morning. It was boiling and I was grumpy as I had about three hours sleep because it was just too hot - I was walking to the sea to cool off. I remember looking down the beach and about ten yards away there was a blond haired boy, looking slightly sunburned and a bit pissed off. He seemed to be really struggling with his massive rucksack in the sand that was sinking under his feet, concentrating on each step and looking down, he didn’t notice me. ‘Max!’ I screamed. He looked up and after he had thrown his bag on the ground, we laughed and hugged and jumped about.

We marveled at how amazing it was that we had managed to find each other on the most beautiful beach. The last time we had seen each other had been on a cold winter's night, pale and wrapped up outside a pub in West Hampstead and now here we were. Rosy was further behind him, then Anna, then Ellie. They were exhausted after traveling a long while but everyone was tanned, happy and full of the traveling spirit. From then on, for me, traveling just got better and better as we were all together (Max, Louis, Isaac, Owen, Dash, Rosy, Anna, Ellie, Me, Lucy and more…) for some parts, then apart, then would meet up again in different parts of Asia. Endless days of lounging around on beaches where the main activity seemed to be eating and playing cards, with a little bit of swimming in between. Looking back especially in the light of what has happened now it was blissful untouched paradise.

I remember Max never leaving Rosy's side when she had a stomach bug in Bali, reading to her and bringing her food etc. I remember the big meal we had before Ellie and Anna were heading for Australia, we waited about two hours for food and were so hungry we all ate in silence. I remember Max arguing with Eleanor at about seven in the morning on the way to another boat, they were discussing this Bob Marley song, they were both getting equally agitated and in the end were both wrong! I remember hilarious cab journeys where Max would take charge, sit in the front and talk to the driver all the way home, everyone in the back half listening and a bit monged out. I remember arranging to meet in Regent's Park for this mini free festival the summer before last, we shared a bottle of red wine and danced in the middle of the day in a boiling tent - I remember being so pleased to see him as it had been ages and the day was so great.

So many funny little thoughts that more often that than not have me smiling or laughing out loud. I want to keep thinking of all these things, all these things that made Max one of the most charming people I will ever know, funny, smart good-looking, unique and terribly missed by so many.

Chloe

Remembering Max at the Irish Centre

This Friday, the 23rd of February, we will be remembering Max's wonderful self as well as the friendships we all shared with him at the trusty old Irish Centre. Also known as the Corrib Rest on Salusbury Road, the Oyster Bar has been set aside for Max's crew, we will be there from 7 pm. Everyone and anyone is welcome!

This is a very hard time for everyone that knew Max, as it has almost been exactly a year since we lost him. I am sure all of his friends have been thinking about him more than usual, or like me, feelings of a year ago are flooding back, feelings of shock and disbelief. I hope that everyone will come together for Max, as they always did when he was alive.

I look forward to being with everyone, Dash

Memories of Max

My memories of Max are more like a series of pictures: a blonde, curly-haired, smiley, funny and lanky boy. In my mind he's either playing football in Queen's Park, or at a gathering in one of the Queen's Park/Hampstead school hangouts (the Irish, The Old Black Lion, The Long Room.) I also think of him at school, the long Spanish lessons we had together, when Max always seemed to effortlessly (and frustratingly) do so well and, even with his broad English accent could string a sentence together much better than most of us. I hear his wacky insults, which made me smile and that I imagine were used more to make people laugh, than cause anyone real offence!

I wish I could have seen more of Max since the Hampstead days. When he died I hadn't seen him for a few years. As does sometimes happen, I was one of the drifters who went from seeing myself as 'one of the crowd' to a bit more of an outsider, but one who liked and still likes nothing better than to be reunited with my friends.

I always used to love coming back home from uni and seeing everyone from school, usually for one drunken evening at the pub. And Max would usually be there with a jolly greeting along the lines of 'Yes Bridie!' (For some reason that's always what I hear when I think of him!) Even if we might not spend ages chatting, I felt comfortable in Max's presence and it was always clear that he was a much loved and central part of the crowd.

I can remember one time, I think I must have been back from uni for the weekend or during the summer holidays, Max and I bumped into each other on Salusbury Road. We both stopped and shared a quick cuddle, which was always a rather awkward feat, given our difference in height! We had a chat, one of those ones where you have to condense everything you've been doing over the last year or two into a few minutes. But I can remember thinking how sweet and charming he was and how good looking and that, even though we'd only spoken to each other for a short time, I totally felt like he had time for me and wasn't just chatting with me out of politeness.

I have another memory of one of his birthdays at the Irish. Once we'd all been turfed out of the pub onto the street, a load of people crowded round Max and gave him the birthday bumps. I want to giggle when I think about it. Sometimes I wonder whether I imagined it, because none of my friends seem to remember, but I reckon we were all pretty drunk at the time which could explain the memory loss!

Max was and still is an intrinsic part of the group of boys my girlfriends and I used to swoon over and would often refer to as 'The Queen's Park Boys'. I still catch myself saying his name when I talk about them. His name just is naturally there on the tip of your tongue whenever you mention Owen, Isaac, Louis and Dash.

When I heard Max had died I found myself refusing to believe it at first. I suppose, without thinking about it, I always assumed we were all invincible. As my friend Renne cried on the other end of the phone, all I could manage were a few words, some vain attempts to comfort her and expressions of my own immediate feelings of shock and sadness and disbelief. The moment Max's death became real to me was just before his funeral, when I was stood in the middle of the huge crowd gathered outside his house. It was impossible not to be beset by my own sadness and the sadness of those around me.

I can remember the procession around Queen's Park and how overwhelmingly sad it was to watch Max's family and closest friends walk behind his coffin. I could only imagine how they felt and feel, but hope that they were and are able to gain even a small amount of comfort from the sheer volume of Max's friends that came to share in their grief at the loss of their son and brother and best friend on such an immensely difficult day.

If there's one thing Max's life and death have taught me it's not to take anyone for granted and to appreciate loved ones and old friends you might once have passed in the street. It's taught me to stop and say hello, even if it's just for a few minutes, life is too short not to.

I will always remember Max as a smiley, energetic, hilarious and sweet guy, a real gentleman and I really do feel happy to have known him and loved him in my own way.

My thoughts are with Max's family and closest friends especially at this time; Owen, Isaac, Louis, Dash, Rosie and everyone else also. I'm sending you all love and positive thoughts.

Rest in peace Max.

Love Bridie xx

One year on

It is now a very short time to the first anniversary of Max’s death. Last year we received a call at about six in the morning from a brave young man in Cadiz who had to tell us what had happened to our son. Our lives since then have been irreparably changed. Sometimes it can seem like a lifetime ago, sometimes only yesterday. In that time I have come slowly to understand that Max will never come home again. It is still unbearable that our son, so full of life, in a matter of seconds ceased to exist, that his tall lithe lanky body and warm complex maturing personality came to an end with no warning, no reprieve.

I look back on his short life and am glad that he was able to make so much of the time he had, but I am so sad that I shall never know what he would have become, and that his potentially interesting and fulfilling, if possibly not always easy, future has been lost. Most of all, I am so sad for Max that he has been denied all this. I miss the noise and activity he brought into the house, the friends, laughter, dirty washing, fun, excitement, bad temper, loud music, kitchenfuls of feeding boys, and embarrassed requests beginning ‘could you just lend me …’.

The funeral procession and ceremony remain vivid in our memories as a powerful and loving tribute to him, and showed us that our sadness is shared by so many others.

This blog has grown into a wonderful commentary on his life, and is a comfort to us. I have been so touched by reading all the different contributions and have wanted to respond to every one but too often found it too emotionally difficult to put the words together. The posts have told us so much about the Max we didn’t know so well.

This photo is the last one I ever took of him. I think it shows him content and at ease - on a beach in the sun.

Sunday 25 February is one year on from the Sunday on which Max died. We would be very pleased to see anyone who would like to call round in the afternoon for tea, cakes, drink, etc.

Love to all, Victoria

From Declan

I was looking at the blog the other day and stumbled upon some photos of smily Max. For the first time in a while I felt good at looking at pictures of Max. It was like seeing an old friend again; an old friend who always looked happy and seemed content. When I first heard of Max's passing I don't know why but I looked at my phone and saw his name and number in my phonebook, and remembered that about just six weeks previously he had phoned me ... this had become my memory of Max almost ... I couldn't delete the number then and still can't. Looking at the blog the other day and reading some of the messages made me see how Max is remembered and lives on. His friendliness and happy go lucky nature will always live on through those that knew him and that is special. My friendship with Max definitely matured with age. I remember being about 13 and playing football in The Moberly with him...we were on opposing sides and were both trying to beat as many players as we could when we had the ball and when we didn't we would almost hack each other off the ball; all very serious stuff at that age. The Easter before last, nearly 10 years later, we were playing football in the park and both barged into each other and laughed ... we'd grown up (probably I had more of the growing up to do than Max). That moment meant a lot to me and still does. Although there are times that I get sad about Max's passing and consequences, e.g. him not having a son who would've been a class footballer and Max the best teacher football-wise a kid could have, I am so happy to have known Max and been able to call him a friend, and have been part of his life in which he made everyone he met feel good. Rest in peace mate. Declan

Thinking of you

The main things I remember about Max are his ever present friendliness and trusty smile.

I remember having a laugh with him, whether in the park, in a pub, or in a club.

I remember his beaming face always accompanying his embrace.

I remember his unintentional football lessons and unattemptable tricks.

I remember a laid back lad always happy to catch up and have a chat.

A mate always to be missed and never forgotten.

I haven't been in England much over the last couple of years but I know of the suffering and love that has been shown because of the passing away of Max. I'm happy to see a tree has been planted in the park to celebrate Max's life and the happiness he brought to so many people. I'm thinking of all the Queens Park crew and family, and remembering with great affection the smiling lad, Max.

Alex

A letter

Dear family and friends,

I am lecturer at the university of Cadiz and was Max's coordinator. I was pregnant when I met Max and when everything happened I was on maternity leave. One of my colleagues informed me about the accident and I met the family when they came to the faculty. Some months later another colleague found hidden among many documents, students' assignments, etc., a note that Max left under my door before Christmas. I have scanned the text and put it up in the blog, as I feel I should be doing something to honour him.

[Translation in first comment]

Sending very warm regards to his family and friends

Dr. Carmen Fernandez Martin
Department of French and English
Universtity of Cadiz

PS: I'm enclosing also a picture of my baby

Snow

It snowed last night and now the world outside looks like someone came along and brushed it with a paintbrush dipped in white. It's beautiful. And as with all pleasures, there's part of me that thinks 'wow, this is amazing' and part that thinks 'Max can't enjoy it this time'.

And then I started thinking about another time it snowed and I was at Max's house. It was the evening and we had no plans to go anywhere. I imagine we were simply going to stay in and watch a movie in bed (as was one of our favourite customs). Surprisingly there was a ring on his doorbell and then into the hallway spilled a group of lads who had other plans for Max that night...Snowball fights.

I lingered at the top of the stairs as they persuaded him to join them (I don't think he needed much convincing). Then he looked up at me and asked me if it was ok for him to go! I must admit I was slightly put out seeing as I was now going to have to entertain myself alone in his house for a few hours and wasn't sure what I was going to do. But there was no way I was going to tell him he couldn't go out if he wanted to do! It's a strange phenomenon but often when a girlfriend starts affecting her boyfriend's plans (however innocent she may be), his pals (who are themselves single) seem duty-bound to give the boyfriend the harmless yet insulting title: 'p***y-whipped'.

Max was on the verge of acquiring said title as he asked for my permission, but it was really sweet that he asked. Although I wasn't going to stop him, he could sense my pout, and was all cuddles and kisses before going to kit himself out for some serious snow action with the boys. I'm almost certain that as they left the house I could hear some friendly insults being thrown around, but Max always gave as good as he got.

I managed to amuse myself somehow and when Max returned he conjured the image of a snowballing battlefield. I can't remember exactly who came to the door that night, but perhaps you're reading this and you remember it too.

Rosy

Email to the blog

For the present if you want to send a post to the blog by email you will have send it to 'maxblog2.textbutnopics@blogger.com'. The post will not be put up immediately - I have to vet new posts for spam. Everthing else is the same, as described in Go straight to How to add messages to the blog.

Seamus

From Jessie

I have wanted to write something on this blog for nearly a year now. That sentence in itself is almost unbelievable, because it means it is nearly a year since I, or anyone, last saw Max. Part of the reason I have not done so is because losing him and missing him has been expressed so beautifully and eloquently by all of his family and friends, and I wasn’t sure that I could add anything. Part of the reason I haven’t is because Max was my younger brother’s friend, and I saw my role as being there for Jay, rather than expressing my own feelings of loss.

Over the past week I have been thinking about Max, and missing Max a lot. Jay and I have grown up with Zara and Isaac, our parents are best friends, and we have known each other forever. Although I did not go to Hampstead School, or live in Queen’s Park, the area and the unique community around the park has always been a large part of my life.

When we were kids and really up until the past year, there was always a kind of separation between Zara, me and our friends being the older sisters, and Jay, Ize and their friends being the younger brothers. As with most teenagers, this divide seems huge, and at the time you could never even imagine hanging out with your smelly younger brother and your sad older sister!

However, when you grow up a bit and everyone gets past a certain age, these differences start to disappear; before you even have a chance to question it– you are all adults and embarking on your own lives.

In the past year, the gap between all of us has closed. In September this year Zar and I and the boys, went on an amazing trip to America and had so much fun together. We all missed Max, and in true Max style, we lived it up and partied hard in LA, San Diego and Vegas, as he would have done… he would have been proud! Part of the reason for the trip was Max, to celebrate his life, and for his friends to have something positive in a year, which for the most part was so deeply tragic.

What I am most sad about, and what I have been thinking over the past few days is that Max was becoming one of my friends. I did not get a chance to get to know him in the way I have gotten to know the others. I have been thinking about our trip to America and the weekends in Norfolk, all of the times over the past year we have spent together, and willed and wished him to have been there.

The last time I saw him, a year ago, was just before he was going back to Spain. We were out partying, celebrating Owen’s birthday, all of us in a big group together, when the gap was beginning to close. He managed to be the most charming and wildest of the group, and immediately took on the role of the joker – centre stage – with such style and ease.

Max was so much fun to be around, and always added something to anything (even if it was some sort of drama!) I can only say that I am sure he would have been a unique, amazing friend, as he was to all of you boys and everyone who knew him. I am just sad that I only got a taste of that friendship, and wish I could have shared more times like that last time, with him.

Jessie Mond Wedd
11/01/2007

Us in America

2007

At the end of New Years Eve, one of Max's all time favourite nights of the year, a load of us ended up at Dash's house which is opposite one of the entrances to Queens Park. As it began to get lighter we realised the park would be open soon and that although Max couldn't have been with us for the previous night, we could go see him and the tree in the morning. So, at about 8.30am we bundled our selves up, brought whatever we needed, footballs and all, and went to see him. We stayed for about half an hour and spent the first part of the first day of 2007 with good friends. As you can see there were about 15 of us. Someone had added a note to the tree which was lovely. Standing there we realised that we had 2 footballs, and although Max would testify that you can never have too many, we decided to leave one with the tree. We thought that Max would appreiciate it. And if someone took it we thought that they would be very lucky, and probably turn out to be a fantastic footballer, as it had come from such good stock. It was sad to say the least, but it is something that we are all glad we did - it was needed. As my mum says, you have to take your comforts where you can fnd them these days, and while i would give anything to have him back, it gave me great comfort to be able to go, with all his close friends, into the park and feel close to him. I think this is a tradition that will stay.

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