Alan had earned the Oxford Blues (athlete) title and was about to compete in the annual Varsity between Oxford University and Cambridge University.
We had a little fight the night before the game. Alan was upset since some of his friends wouldn’t be able to make it. I was busy writing a paper, hence, there was a fair chance I might be absent as well. My great emperor has never hidden his desire for much love and passionate attention.
I stayed up all night working on my paper then boarded the 7am train to Oxford from West Drayton station, London. I proudly wore a blue sweater, of course, I’m team Oxford.
It was rather a long walk from Oxford train station to Iffley stadium. I didn’t mind, since every walk around Oxford, through the colleges that look like gothic castles, is a dream of a lifetime. There I decided I would one day return to Oxford or Cambridge to study. After all, Alan can’t keep all the fun and glory to himself!
However, the was a modest issue, Iffley is a big sports compound and I had no idea where to look for Alan. He was probably preparing for the match and did not pick up his phone. I asked for him at the reception just to feel even more hopeless. Just when I sat down thinking what to do, Alan came.
He dressed in a white shirt and a pair of khaki pants, his tie was full of olive branches. Not until when I grabbed his shoulder did he realise I was there. We shared a good luck hug then Alan, as if he was one of the finest Olympians, looked straight and marched through the stadium entrance like a general entering a battlefield.