As far as youth is concerned, it’s most certainly…ALL OVER!

“There’s bound to be something in this. If I just try this one last time..there you go..see? Oh. You were right 5 hours ago. This game is shit!”

I was only ever wrong once. And that game was Civilisation.

I would either leave the game in the shrinkwrap, or I would give it a cursory play. A peremptory joystick waggle. Not much more than that. I dismissed Civilisation once with a throwaway “I can’t play a game with fonts that shit!”

That’s where David would pick up from. I had tossed the game aside after condeming it in a style that Simon Cowell would be proud of and David would have the patience of a saint, playing for 5 hours or more before almost inevitably arriving at a similar conclusion - though not with Civilisation. His view would often be more balanced and always more reasonable than mine. It was certainly better informed. Furthermore, if he were ever called to defend his view, he would be able to back it up with something far more substantial than my “It’s shit” line.

David and I were friends from a school I shan’t mention. A school one survived. He did better than can be expected in that outrageous melting pot and ended up with a science degree (I shan’t get too specific) that was achieved in the days degrees still meant something. Nowadays, I suspect even I could get a degree…

Whilst at college, David gave me some game design tips for Chimera (and here. It proved to be the start of an interesting software relationship. We developed a style that pre-dated Kent Beck’s eXtreme Programming by a decade or so. He contributed to my projects, I to his.

We had our ups and downs, but on balance, they were mostly ups and to this day, they still are.

We enjoyed Italia 90 together. Sometimes at Arabic Salt Beef bars in Marylebone and at other times in my room where we witnessed England crashing out to West Germany on penalties. David had a BMW at the time. I feared for its safety, but it was fine and so was he on the way back. Others in Trafalgar Square fared not so well. Ah, that Great British tolerance and sense of fair play, eh?

David has a software style that few can match. He was a hacker before the term was popular and abused. His ideas (generating an entire typeface from just two or three typical characters, to writing a game modelling terrorism) were breathtaking.

His executions were incredibly popular and brave.

David has helped me move on countless occasions. He has driven me here, there and everywhere. Even to the south of France.

When my life reached absolute rock bottom last year, the turning point came when I visited his home on May 25th 2005. The day Liverpool turned around a half-time deficit of 3-0 to claim the world’s top club prize. The game was important because it showed me exactly what my life was. I was 3-0 down at half time. I knew I could come back and win. I’ve just clawed back a couple of goals and there’s still plenty of game left. David was there then. David is here now.

When I was homeless, David sent me a couple of text messages in response to my fears that I had perhaps bitten off more than I could chew. Those messages have probably been lost, but they were a reminder that my situation was temporary and that I was worth a lot more than my temporary situation.

What I love most about David is that his intelligence and patience has often brought the best out of me. Our conversations are sometimes elliptical, but always inspiring. David has always shown me incredible patience and support. There is not much more a friend can do.

Like all long-term friends, I know we will probably be friends for life. I can claim only two areas of influence in his life and I suspect my contribution was small, but worthwhile. The first was when I encouraged him to dump Basic and re-write his brilliant Conflict in C. The second was when I pushed him to make his blog public. Both Conflict and Minority Report are valuable contributions to human dialogue.

David and I played two-a-side football together in Paddington Rec in the early 90s, and we played Gauntlet, four-player in the arcades of Wardour Street in the late 80s.

We got abused in Wong Kei with our mutual friend Geoff and we have abused many football commentators over the years. I can always rely on David for a completely different view on any important matter. He truly helps me to see “outside the box”. How many friends can do that, decade in, decade out?

Selfishly, David is a dear friend and a valuable contributor to my life. Happy 40th Birthday Sir! Thank you for being a dear friend, but mostly, thank you for making me a better person than I would have been without you.