I wanted to be able to take Oliver away and see him happy again. I wanted to see him smile. Nothing stopped me from doing what I saw needed to be done - I wrapped my arms around him to let him know he still had a friend. I often wished it were something more, but if the years that we've worked together have taught me anything, it's that I will always come second to the game. Football is Oliver's life. I've learned not to stand in the way of that.

Collecting our second place medals helped with the realisation that this end of the Cup. We had lost. Oliver just seemed more disappointed as time went on. When we returned to the change rooms, I let him know that the team didn't blame him. Miroslav and Michael were quick to jump in and agree with me. But Oliver didn't listen. Or at least he didn't want to listen. He said he wanted to be alone. I think our whole team felt exactly the same way. To come so far and achieve so much more than anyone thought we could just to lose out in the final was almost like a fatal head wound.

While Oliver was sitting in the corner of the room, everyone else concentrating on getting changed, I decided to join him.

"It's not your fault," I said again.

He looked up at me and shook his head. "Don't bother, Tom. Nothing you can say will change the way I feel right now."

If only I was brave enough to scream out how much I wanted to help him forget what happened and invite him back to my hotel room, maybe I'd have been able to stop his pain - that's what I thought at the time. But Oliver wanted his solitude and I decided that I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't give it to him.

Later, though, I was woken at four in the morning to the sound of my phone ringing. I think the reality of it all had finally settled in to Oliver's mind. He sounded as though he hadn't been to sleep and that he really needed it. I told him he should get some but he argued that he couldn't. And he didn't want to be alone any more.

"Come over," he said. "Please?"

How could I argue with that? I wanted to be there for him and he was finally asking for me. I told him to give me five minutes. I didn't bother getting dressed after I threw the sheets off myself. The fact that I was still groggy from sleep probably helped in my not caring that Oliver would see me in the embarrassing cow pyjamas I was given for my birthday. Or maybe I forgot that they were the pyjamas I brought with me because for some reason, I still took the time to brush my teeth before leaving.

Oliver was staying in a room across the hall from mine, so I took my key and wandered over. When Oliver answered the door, he was still wearing the clothes he had on when he left the change rooms after the game. He didn't say anything and only gestured to invite me in.

When he closed the door behind me, I turned around and asked: "Do you want to talk about it?"

A solemn smile worked its way onto his face as he shook his head. It was then that I realised that he just wanted to have me in his presence for company. He knew he could count on me - he always has. I lightly wrapped my sleepy arms around him and said that everything would be okay. That was when he acknowledged that I could always make him feel better about anything. That's why he didn't want my company earlier - he didn't want to feel better.

He gave me a kiss on the cheek as a thank you and pulled me over to his bed. I was told to make myself comfortable while he got changed into his own pyjamas. He didn't bother to use the bathroom so I was subjected to watching him change in front of me. It made me want to pull him onto the bed with me when he was half-naked, but I resisted. I was fairly sure that Oliver didn't have plans for any funny business, so I stayed silent and watched him continue to dress himself.

After he was dressed, he joined me on the bed and curled up next to me, happy to fall asleep with his head against my chest. That's when I realised that I was more than just second place in his life, and we weren't just second-place losers in the World Cup. It took a lot to get where we arrived, and without Oliver, we probably wouldn't have got past the second round.

End.