Creative writing takes a blog backseat today. Recent news of the passing of a friend, Dave Slaughter, shocked so many of us who were at Southampton University with him. I will allow myself one reference to literature, borrowing from Shakespeare to say that we all knew him as ‘a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy’.
Receiving such news is, unfortunately, a more frequent occurrence as one gets older, but it is never any less of a shock. At such times, the world seems full of clichés, but as they say, how does a cliché become a cliché? Because at its core is truth. So, the world is now a poorer place. We are all trying to process this.
Thankfully, one of the most abiding memories of Dave will always makes me smile – the reason his alter ego was, and remains, ‘Viking Chief’. Please excuse some indulgent crossing of old ground here.
Four of us, Dave, Dean Upcraft, Phil White and I, founded a football team that became a legend (in our minds at least!) at university: Nordic Rovers. Teams had to register twenty players – we had four! Hence, with the help of Dave’s offbeat humour, the legendary squad was born, containing names which have gone into Norse mythology, such as Olaf Whaledong, Thor, son of Olaf, and, of course, Viking Chief. With three places still to fill, the Table-leg brothers materialised – Joshua N, Joshua T and Joshua Z. Apparently, the face of the lady accepting the registration forms was a picture as she scanned the list. If any ringers played for us, we had to remind them of their names prior to kick-off, in case any of them got booked! Despite, or perhaps because of all this, the motley crew you can see in the picture alongside this blog (team colours – your guess is as good as ours!) did actually win the league, undefeated, and reach a cup final. Dave is in the front row, far right, wearing the colours of his beloved Watford.
The team did achieve a certain cult status. A friendly match against my hall of residence, Chamberlain Hall, drew a bigger crowd to Wide Lane Sports Ground than any game before. I remember one of the students in our second season who wanted to play for us, shouting out once he had been registered: “I’ve achieved my Vikinghood!” We had an annual dinner. We had so much fun. Dave, with his sharp, indeed cutting wit, was such a huge part of that. His artwork was displayed in the wonderful badge he created for the team, along with a slogan of which the Woke generation would certainly not approve. On the field, he stood out for the famous ‘Slaughter Drag-back’; a piece of technical skill worthy of Lionel Messi…even if the following pass might sometimes have been just messy.
Dave and Dean slept on the floor of my room at Chamberlain Hall for the first month of my final year! Dave had been in the year above us and the reasons for his presence escape me, but maybe employment didn’t yet appeal. Dean hadn’t yet been allotted a room, but that’s another story! What I owe them both is that I was looking for a way out of a relationship at that time, so their constant presence, hence my unavailability for other pastimes, helped bring closure as well as huge laughs.
And now he’s gone. Except the very fact of me writing the above shows that he’s not and never will be.
RIP Dave, and my condolences to all those who, because he made their lives a bit brighter, feel things are that bit darker now.
