I went to university in 1989. A working-class boy, I picked the nearest university to my home, my girlfriend and everything I knew, and chose Lancaster. On 2 October my mum drove 40 minutes down the M6 and dropped me off outside my halls of residence. Student life began.
I came to study marketing – of course. Right from the outset I loved everything about it. I found my professional calling in lectures about marketing scholars that I would one day meet and have a beer with but who, back then, were exotic American professors with beards and strange surnames.
That makes me sound like a bit of a swot. In truth, I was a bad student from the start. My real passion, back in those final, cold Lancastrian nights of the 1980s, was drinking and all the very fine shenanigans that came with it.
Lees deze column van Mark Ritson op Marketingweek