Alex Groves (OW 2009)

(27 May 1991 – 27 March 2023)

Alex’s close friend James Charleston, also OW 2009, gave the eulogy at Alex’s funeral which we reproduce below.

I can vividly remember the first time that I met Alex because he made such an impression on me. It was at Magdalen and I was there to take some entrance exams before joining the school. There was a gaggle of us potential new students on Milham Ford and Alex came over to talk to us. He was wearing that velvet blazer; I’m sure many of you know the one. Back then, it was a bit oversized on the 12-year-old Alex. I remember he was full of energy, asking questions, engaging people and drawing them into the conversation. He exuded confidence,and it really stuck with me.

Upon joining Magdalen we quickly struck up a friendship. Alex just seemed like the most fun person to spend time with. He was intelligent, quick-witted, intensely sociable and he had a carefree attitude to life. He was also just as obsessed with sport as I was. It was a trip to Tunisia that really cemented our friendship and there are a few memories from that holiday that I’d like to share as I think they’re a great reflection of Alex’s character.

Richard and Ying had booked an all-inclusive hotel right on the beach for us to stay in. It was in this little tourist enclave, like a little gated community. It was ideal for us; there were loads of other teenagers staying there and we could safely roam around this touristy area, haggling for counterfeit goods. Alex came back with a load of knock-off designer polo shirts, which was the preppy style at the time. Early on in the trip we were out on the beach and Alex spotted a couple of girls who looked about our age, and they were both really pretty. Without a second thought, Alex strolled over there to talk to them. He had no idea if they spoke English, but all it took was a bit of miming and a few minutes later we were all in a pedal boat together. It turned out the girls were from Finland, they actually spoke pretty good English and they were the same age as us. That moment of self-confidence from Alex to just go up and talk to them ended up making the holiday. The girls were great fun and we spent the rest of the trip hanging out with them. It was shortly after our pedal boat excursion that Alex decided he wanted to impress the Finnish girls by doing some water skiing. The guy piloting the boat was a bit too enthusiastic with the throttle so this boat was absolutely ragging it around and Alex was doing well to
hang on. Unfortunately, though, he hadn’t tied his shorts up tight enough so they started falling down. Water skiing one-handed is significantly harder than water skiing two-handed and Alex was trying to hoist his shorts back up with one hand but with limited success. There he was, speeding along, mooning the whole beach, until eventually he realised he
wouldn’t be able to stop his shorts falling all the way down so he had to let go of the rope and fall into the water. The Finnish girls thought it was hilarious and, fortunately, Alex managed to see the funny side of it too.

Then there was one evening where we were playing cards with the girls. We struggled to find a game that we all knew how to play so we settled upon snap, to keep it simple. I remember it all got a bit silly, there was a lot of laughter and it’s one of those memories that I look back on really fondly. So we were playing snap and Alex and one of the girls had run out of cards, so Alex just started throwing random objects onto the pile: a book, a shoe, the hotel phone. By this point, the rest of us had joined in, adding to the pile, and it escalated to the point where Alex threw himself on top of the pile, laughing uncontrollably. He was doing that slightly hysterical giggle/cackle that he’d do when he was really laughing. It was such a great evening.

Throughout the trip Alex always had a rugby ball in hand. It was probably the first thing he packed in his suitcase. And he’d throw the ball at anyone who even showed the slightest inclination that they wanted to join in with his game. He was always drawing other people into his quest for joy. By the end of the trip we’d built a little crew of teenagers that all hung
out and I think that was largely Alex’s doing. There was one disappointment from the holiday for Alex. He’d had his eye on this girl who was a bit older than us – she was sixteen or seventeen. She was very witty and was quick to put Alex in his place, but she obviously felt some fondness for this gregarious 13-year-old who was trying to woo her. Just before she left, she wrote a sweet little message for Alex in the back of his book and signed it at the bottom with a red-lipsticked kiss. A few weeks later we were back in school. I was in the library and the librarian was kicking up a fuss, which
was actually quite a common occurrence. I saw her talking to Alex and it turned out that the book with the sweet little message in and the lipstick imprint was a school library book. I remember Alex trying to defend himself and I can’t remember exactly what he said but it was something along the lines of “Yeah, but she was really fit though”.

Alex really flourished as a teenager. In more recent years, when reminiscing, he mentioned a few times that he felt that he’d peaked as a 15-16 year old and that it was the most enjoyable period of his life. He was certainly flying at that age: loads of friends, doing very well academically, in all the sports teams, and exercising his creative side. He had a phase where he made some great video montages, including that one set to Soco Amaretto Lime that could have been a trailer for a teen movie, it was that good.

Alex had a habit of losing his belongings and forgetting about the more mundane details in life, but as a teenager, with limited responsibilities, he didn’t have to worry about any of that. It was Ying and Richard that took those responsibilities off of Alex’s shoulders and let him thrive. He didn’t have to worry so much about losing his stuff or forgetting things, and
instead he could just embrace life to the fullest. And he certainly did that: house parties at that age, Alex was the life and soul of the party.

He was a bundle of energy. At school, he was curious and he loved learning. Luckily, at Magdalen we had some great teachers who really inspired Alex, like Mr Morris and Dr Unwin. This is not to say that Alex was a model student. He did get into more than his fair share of trouble and he liked to play up to the crowd. I remember the day that he unofficially broke the record for the most number of referrals in a day. He was on fire that day. Consciously or unconsciously, he’d made the decision that he was going to make the day as entertaining as possible for himself and his set. He might as
well have dressed up in baggy trousers, clown shoes and a red nose for that day. So he’d picked up six referrals already from two different lessons before we headed up to Physics. Our teacher, DJ Phil Deville, was young and inexperienced and hadn’t quite got the hang of classroom discipline yet, which Alex took full advantage of. Alex picked up a further
two referrals and the class as a whole was becoming more unruly. It seemed like Mr Deville sensed this and so he turned to Alex after his latest indiscretion and said “Right, that’s enough, you need to move. Go and sit on that desk.” And to be fair to Alex, he did as he was told and went and sat on the desk – literally on top of the desk. Deville didn’t notice this at
first as he’d turned his back to write something on the board. I remember Alex was sat there, waiting for him to turn back around, and he was glancing around the room with this cheeky grin on his face. It was like he was saying “This one’s for the boys”. And that was referral number 9: The hat trick of hat tricks. Three lessons, each with three referrals. I’d like to think that the record still stands and that Alex has secured his place in Magdalen folklore. I think he’d like that.
I don’t want to paint a negative picture of Alex, because his misbehavior never had malicious intent. He was just a quick-witted kid who was testing the boundaries and trying to make people laugh.

After getting his four A’s at A-level, Alex went to university in Durham where he met another great group of friends. I’m sure I haven’t heard even half of the stories from his time up there so I’m looking forward to hearing from his Durham mates. It was also at this time that Alex first started to struggle with his health. He had to take some time off from studying and life wasn’t quite so easy for him anymore, but he battled on. Despite his struggles he graduated with a first class degree in economics, which was an incredible achievement.

From there, even with the ups and downs of bipolar disorder disrupting his rhythm he went on to pass his ACA and become a chartered accountant. I think it’s fair to say that accountancy didn’t suit Alex and his time living and working in Reading wasn’t a happy one, on the whole.

I’ve always felt that the ideal job for Alex would have been something involving networking. He loved meeting new people and finding out about their lives. And with a job like that he could use all the experience he’d gained from years spent on the benches outside HMV. It was like his throne, where he surveyed people going down Cornmarket, striking up
conversations with people he knew and with people he didn’t. He was so good at making connections with people and he thrived off that social energy. After his time in Reading, Alex had a fresh start and entered the world of start-ups. It was an environment that suited him, with lots of people with different skill sets bouncing ideas off of one another. Eventually, this led to him starting his own business, in the form of homeDAO. For those who don’t know, homeDAO sets up hacker houses that are sponsored by big companies involved with blockchain technology. Alex was in his element. He was a dreamer and this job gave him an opportunity to think big. He was always looking for ways to make his big ideas even bigger.

Alex had a unique mind, which also fitted with this style of work. Most people, when presented with a list of tasks or things to think about, approach them linearly and sequentially – in straight lines. Alex’s brain worked like a spiral. He’d often find it difficult to concentrate on a single task and his mind would move onto something else, but it would
always circle back around later on and pick up from where it left off. He’d reach the same endpoint as someone approaching it in a more linear fashion; his mind would just take the more scenic route. The downside to this way of thinking was that he was prone to a short attention span and to forgetfulness, but it also meant that Alex was very good at linking thoughts and ideas and so he was very creative. He always had a good analogy and anything could be made into a football analogy, no matter how tenuous the link. To people who didn’t know him, Alex could come across as inconsiderate because he sometimes lacked awareness of basic things. A few years ago, Edmund, Theo, Alex and I were in China and we were staying in this hostel the night before visiting the Terracotta Army. We’d had a long day and needed to get up fairly early. Just as we were all drifting off to sleep Alex gets up to go to the toilet. He’s stomping across the room, leaves the door wide open so the room is flooded with light from reception and then when he comes back he slams the door shut. Over the years we learned to laugh about these things because these little details just didn’t cross Alex’s mind. His brain didn’t work that way. It was definitely a source of frustration for him and it’s something that he really worked hard to improve, particularly remembering and taking care of his belongings. He told me a few times how he’d be filled with regret when imagining the mountain of possessions that he’d lost over the course of his life, all piled up. But I think the rate at which that pile grew definitely slowed over the years.

Having said this, some of the funniest stories about Alex involve him losing things. At the end of sixth form, Alex, Freddie and I embarked on an interrailing trip across Europe. We actually started the journey with a flight into Prague, and in the airport before we’d even departed he’d somehow managed to lose his expensive sunglasses, and his lunch that he’d
just bought. Upon realising what had happened Alex approached us and said, “Guys, don’t worry, but I’ve lost my sangwich”. It was perfect: obviously the sandwich takes priority over the sunglasses, and the mispronunciation was the cherry on top. Then, later in the holiday, when Alex inevitably lost other belongings, Freddie would hit him with the “Guys, I’ve lost my sangie”. He lost almost all of his important belongings that trip, including his bank card. Freddie and I were bankrolling him for the latter part of the trip. Thankfully, though, he didn’t lose his passport. Otherwise we really would have been in trouble.

In recent years, Alex’s struggles with his health became more frequent and, honestly, at times it wasn’t easy being friends with him. The relationship often felt very one-sided and I definitely questioned our friendship. It turns out a number of us did. I remember speaking to Jonny about this and he said he’d gone through the same thought process. But, reassuringly, we’d both reached the same conclusion, that we valued his friendship as it was now, and we weren’t just there for the sake of loyalty.

I think the strength of the bonds that Alex forged with his family and friends was evidenced by the number of people who came to visit him when he was in hospital. The staff were always amazed at how many visitors he had. When Alex was depressed and he had convinced himself that he was a horrible person, then we could always point out that how could this possibly be true when there were so many people coming to see him and support him.

Although Alex’s manic and depressive episodes seemed to become more frequent, he had some periods of stability in recent memory when his true character would shine through. A couple of summers ago, a group of us, including Alex, headed down to Port Meadow. We had just been to the pub together and we’d been having a long, quite involved discussion about our outlooks on life – Theo was there so it was kind of inevitable. The conversation had been going on for a while and it felt like it was meandering towards a conclusion and there was a long pause – a moment of introspection. Then Alex just abruptly ended it with “Yeah Theo, I basically agree with you but with a few tweaks”, and that was it, he was off, running over to the cows to take selfies and videos with them. It was hilarious. We literally
keeled over laughing. And that was the best of Alex: that joyful innocence. The attitude of ” That looks like fun, I’m going to go do that”.

I’ve had to spend a lot of time lying down resting recently and it’s given me an opportunity to think about Alex. I’ve been trying to write down as much as I can remember and I’ve been asking myself questions as a kind of prompt. Questions like, “What was Alex’s favourite food?” Probably all-you-can-eat buffet. I’m not sure that counts as a legitimate answer. In
truth, it was his mum’s cooking: homemade dim sum and stir fry with rice. It always hit the spot. You knew the food was really good when Alex went into this trance-like state where it was just him and the bowl, nothing else mattered.

And I asked myself other questions, like, what was his proudest achievement? I actually asked Alex this question not that long ago. Maybe there was some recency bias but he said it was starting his own business. He said it was the first job that he felt he was truly good at. His passion for HomeDAO was clear and he really put his heart and soul into it.
Proudest sporting achievement? I’m sure some of Alex’s friends would argue that nothing can beat the almost unbelievable underdog story of the Josephine Butler C team darts winning the title. However, the first thing that popped into my mind when thinking about this was a hockey match at Teddies. I was actually playing on the adjacent pitch, so wasn’t even in the same match as Alex, but I remember having my attention drawn away from our game by a huge roar from the crowd. I looked over just in time to see Alex running past, saw him throw his stick to the side and then do a front flip in front of the crowd. They were absolutely loving it. He told me afterwards that it’s the greatest goal that he’s ever scored. He’d picked the ball up just inside the opposition half, dribbled past two players and then scored a screamer from the top of the D. I wish I could have seen it. I’m still not sure what was better: the goal or the
celebration.

If there was a motto to sum up Alex’s approach to life, what would it be? This is what I came up with: “Why dip your toe into the water when you can just hurl yourself into it instead? The water might be freezing cold or it might be just right, but I’ll think about that later. Right now, I’m just going to savour the moment, flying through the air
and then splashing into the surface”.

Sometimes, Alex didn’t spend enough time thinking to foresee the consequences of his actions, but his spontaneity was one of the things that made him great. In any situation it always felt like he was thinking: “How can this be made more fun and more outrageous?” For someone like me who likes to plan meticulously for things, Alex’s approach to life was
such a breath of fresh air, and it was one of the reasons why I was so drawn to him when we met at Magdalen. I think we saw in each other, traits that we aspired to have a bit more of: spontaneity and carefreeness for me, and diligence and self-discipline for Alex.

I owe a lot to Alex, particularly for bringing me out of my shell. Growing up I was quite anxious and awkward in certain social situations. Alex encouraged me to overcome these issues and he was incredibly patient with me. I started a career as a teacher after graduating. Standing up in front of a class is really nerve-wracking but I believe it was Alex’s positive influence that helped me to feel more settled in situations like this.

I want to finish by saying that I don’t understand why eulogies are reserved for funerals and wakes. It’s good to celebrate someone’s life but why not do it while they’re still around to hear it and appreciate it. So many things must get left unsaid. I remember as a kid seeing a programme on TV called ‘This Is Your Life’, which basically celebrated the life of the guest on
the show. I never paid much attention to it because I didn’t know any of the people who appeared on it, but I liked the concept. I think we would all benefit from eulogising one another from time to time, rather than waiting until after people have gone.

With Alex, there was always a looming threat that something might happen so I think many of us, especially during his periods of depression, told him what we appreciated about him as a person. So I hope that most of what I’ve said today, I managed to share with Alex at some point in the recent past. But still I think, if I had the chance to say one last thing to him, what would I say? I think I’d say: ‘You brought so much joy and colour to so many people’s lives, I’m really proud to have called you my friend and I’m really going to miss you’.