The following are links to soccer books reviewed on Total Footblog:
Soccer Made in St. Louis by Dave Lange
More Than Just A Game by Chuck Korr and Marvin Close
A BLAST FROM THE PAST
Bill Buford’s Among the Thugs may have been the first soccer book I read, a gift from a friend shortly after it was published in the early 90s. It is remarkable in that it is one of the few soccer books that doesn’t have a lengthy subtitle. I can’t say this is a proper review, as it’s been years since I read it, but this is a great book for any soccer fan – especially those who travel to games overseas:
Among the Thugs by Bill Buford
As an American who had been living in England for more than a decade, Bill Buford couldn’t escape football hooliganism, which was in its filthy heyday during the 80s. The excellent writer, who was then the editor of the literary journal Granta and now a contributor to The New Yorker, first came face-to-face with hooliganism in 1982, when he witnessed a trainload of Liverpool supporters thundering through a station. The incident struck enough fear to set in motion what would become an eight-year journey, in which Buford would march with the hooligans through Europe in what would turn out to be the English equivalent of Hunter S. Thompson’s Hells Angels.
In Among the Thugs, Buford offers a firsthand account of life inside the sad, grisly world of hooliganism. He sheds insights on the organization and motivation of these groups. And while he assumed it was a textbook case of disenfranchised youth lashing out at the system, he concluded that English football hooliganism was more a product of working-class men who led such empty lives that they resorted to this tribal warfare as a means of defining themselves and finding meaning in their lives. Work and family, such as it were, proved insignificant in their hearts and minds, so they invented a battlefield where they could be generals and majors – where they could actually matter. In their empty heads and hearts, violence and vandalism made them somebody.
My first taste of hooliganism came when I was in Milan for the 1990 World Cup. My father and I were having a beer at a sidewalk cafe in the regal Galleria Vittorio Emanuele. We heard a roar in the distance, and our waiter pleaded with us to come inside immediately, which we did. And no sooner had we taken our beers indoors then a mass of German supporters (the English may have invented hooliganism, but the Germans and Italians have also embraced it, as have many Eastern European – and some South American – nations) came rampaging down the corridor, flipping tables and smashing windows as they passed. Not only would we have suffered some sort of bodily injury had we remained outside, but it is likely that our beers would have been spilt as well. Tragedy averted.
Fortunately the days of the hooligan appear to be gone, at least in England. Sure, fan violence remains a danger, and has often reared its ugly head elsewhere in the world. But the game has changed, and family friendly stadiums have taken over the brutal terraces. Yet Among the Thugs remains an important read for any fan of the sport. Not only is it well-written and highly entertaining, but it helps the reader understand the roots of crowd violence and factors that might “set it off.”
Not too long ago, a friend and I were at an Ajax game in Amsterdam. It was a simple Eredivisie match against NAC Breda. But what I didn’t know is that NAC is known for its rambunctious fans. And my friend, well, I think this was the first professional soccer game he had ever attended.
At the final whistle, my friend joked that he was disappointed that there were no riots, as he had come to expect from a European soccer match. Not long after he said that, a fight broke out a few rows behind us. We made our way to the nearest exit, thinking we left the trouble behind. But outside the stadium we got caught up in a clash between supporters and mounted police. After a few days enjoying the fruits of Amsterdam, sprinting through the night chased by riot police on horseback is not an ideal situation for middle-aged men.
We managed to make it to the next train station without suffering any harm, and my friend now has a classic European football tale to tell. But the incident, which happened in the last decade, proves that the potential for ugliness is always there – even at a simple league match. You may not be a thug, but you certainly may find yourself among them at some point. For that reason alone, Buford’s book is worth a read.
A TRIO FROM 2002
In 1990, my father and I began a family tradition of attending World Cups. While we often attended only a handful of games (as many as we could get tickets for), we enjoyed the spectacle of being “in country” for the tournament, and watching the rest of the matches with the locals and other World Cup travellers in the pubs, restaurants, and public squares.
After France 1998, we wrestled with our plans for 2002. Neither of us were particularly interested in heading to Japan or South Korea. But my dad came up with a surprising and definitive solution, dropping dead one evening in August 2000.
Without my World Cup travelling companion (a role proudly taken up by my brother and his two sons beginning in 2006), I ended up watching the 2002 World Cup in Amsterdam of all places. It might seem an odd choice for a tournament in Asia, but it was the perfect alternative. I love the city, and this was my chance to get a taste of what it’s like to loiter around Europe for longer than your average vacation. Besides, if I had stayed in the US, I would have had to watch the games in the middle of the night. In Amsterdam, at least I could go to a bar and watch them at a reasonable hour (albeit in the morning for some of them).
A classic look along a canal in Amsterdam. (image source: christopher dobens)
And watching the World Cup in the States was a far more subdued experience back then. Travelling abroad to a place like Amsterdam increases the fun factor exponentially. Outside of America, work is put on hold, glasses are filled, and everyone comes together to experience the collective sensation of the World Cup. But in America, at least in 2002, the majority of the population remained oblivious of the tournament and all its glories. Even the big games were relegated to obscure channels back then, or Spanish-language stations that still thought it cute to scream the word “goal” for five minutes (which grew annoying faster than the phrase “waazzuuuup”). And the commentary from US broadcasters was often moronic, though I wasn’t really around to see how they butchered things in 2002. But I did see what they did during the 2003 Women’s World Cup (which was even being held here in the US), when the network skipped out on the trophy ceremony so that it could bring its viewers live coverage of the scintillating action of the PGA’s Las Vegas Invitational. These were the dark days.
But Amsterdam was a blast, and I got to know the city fairly well. When not watching games, visiting museums, or enjoying refreshments at a local coffeeshop, I’d often grab a table at a cafe along a canal, tip a pint, and read a book. Keeping with the theme, I had brought three soccer books with me, and the following are the reviews I had written several years ago for another Web site:
Fever Pitch by Nick Hornby
Fever Pitch is a semi-autobiographical account of Nick Hornby’s life – both the good and bad – as a fan of Arsenal. But it isn’t as much an ode to that club as it is about the passion of being a sports fan, particularly a soccer fanatic.
Like all of Hornby’s books (and some of the movies based on them), Fever Pitch is outright funny. And it helps us laugh at the obsessions we all have, particularly those of us who claim to be fans of a particular sport and/or team. Hornby looks at why we follow a sport, why we are allegiant to a particular team, and how that passion – or, in many cases, obsession – affects and shapes the rest of our lives.
The book is honest, insightful, and interesting. While it can be enjoyed by anyone who loves sport, the heart and soul of it speaks to soccer fans. And no matter what team you support, you will appreciate and enjoy Fever Pitch.
The World’s Game: A History of Soccer
by Bill Murray
Bill Murray is a soccer fan? No, it’s not that Bill Murray. This guy is an Australian sports historian, and he offers a masterful history of the world’s game.
Murray’s The World’s Game proved to be a perfect companion to Hornby’s Fever Pitch. The latter is about the passion, while the former is about the facts. Hornby explained why I was there. Murray explained why soccer was there.
The World’s Game follows the growth of football, as soccer is known outside of the US and Canada, and how it became the single greatest passion of the entire planet (again, excluding in the US and Canada…at least at the time). It offers a global perspective on how the game grew and evolved, including specific leagues and teams as well as the players that made the sport so great. And by looking at the role that politics has played in the growth of the game, Murray laid the foundation for works like Franklin Foer’s How Soccer Explains The World.
If you love soccer, then The World’s Game is an essential read. This history will afford you a better understanding of the rivalries and realities that make today’s game so fascinating.
Soccer in Sun and Shadow by Eduardo Galeano
I had high hopes for Soccer in Sun and Shadow, written by Uruguayan Eduardo Galeano and translated by Mark Fried. But, much like the English national team, it fell short of expectations. [Editor's Note: I wrote that nearly a decade ago, yet the joke works just as well today...perhaps even better.]
Don’t get me wrong, though, Soccer in Sun and Shadow serves as a good companion to something like Murray’s The World’s Game, in that it offers an alternative look at the history of the game – one from a South American perspective. But it is far from the comprehensive and fair overview that it promises to be.
While I dig the idea of looking at the game through South American eyes, Galeano self-righteously acts as if he’s speaking on behalf of all the non-European (and non-US) people. And, quite frankly, he has little to say in terms of the Asian or African viewpoints (which is quite an oversight and shamelessly self-serving if you claim to champion soccer’s oppressed). Not only that, but what he does have to say about the game from a South American perspective is hopelessly skewed by his politics.
Soccer in Sun and Shadow shares some of the romance and passion for the game found in Hornby’s Fever Pitch. In fact, his romantic recollections of some of the great players and plays deliver on his promise of “irreparable melancholy” for those familiar with the game. For the uninitiated, however, his descriptions seem to fall short and often fail to paint a clear image of the moments that defined the game, at least for South Americans.
The real problem with this book is that it is so laden with geopolitical and socioeconomic bias that it is often difficult to stomach. Galeano is keen on linking everything in soccer to events in the world (as Foer did so effectively years later with How Soccer Explains the World), which is fine if done fairly, accurately, and honestly. But Galeano fails on all three fronts.
Interestingly, his native Uruguay is one of the few governments that barely escape his repetitive rantings. Perhaps this is because Uruguay has arguably contributed so little to the world stage (except for feats of football, of course) that it therefore cannot be blamed for anything – unlike the US and other nations who have at least made an effort, though not always perfect, to improve life on this planet.
I do, however, agree with Galeano on several points: the unchecked authority of FIFA, player’s rights and the need for a union, and the overall degradation of the game. He should be commended for tackling these tough issues, as few have done so in such an aggressive and public manner.
But I cannot support his blind vilification of advertising, sponsorships, and the media as it relates to the game of football…or, truth be told, the business of football. His apparent assertion that the game could and should thrive without such profits (at least, it seems, without profits for club owners, league officials, corporate sponsors, and broadcasters) is as childish as some of his world views (such as his claim that the US “fought hunger with bullets” in Somalia…just one example of how blurred his view of reality is).
Then, of course, there’s the hypocrisy. Galeano is quick to discredit football reporters and others who make money from the game. Yet I did not see a footnote saying that he has donated all the proceeds from his book to build football fields for the poor of Montevideo. Profits, it seems, are only bad when others earn them.
Another example can be found in his two-page rant about how players should be able to earn more money, which is followed by another two-page rant about how difficult it is to build a national team when all the players travel overseas to play for more money. Does he want them to be free to earn the money they deserve, or does he want them to be restricted to playing in their home nations so that the national teams will be stronger? The author is all over the pitch in this book, and struggles to maintain possession.
Throughout Soccer in Sun and Shadow, Galeano is long on criticism but short on solutions. And he seems driven by whatever is most convenient for his point of view on that particular page, regardless of reality. As a result, Soccer in Sun and Shadow becomes an ugly book about a beautiful game.
True, the beautiful game is not as beautiful as it once was. And Galeano approaches it with passion. But portions of this book make you wonder if he spent too much time in the sun, because he seems to think the world, particularly the world of soccer, has been consumed by the shadows. It’s not a perfect game, on or off the pitch, just as it’s not a perfect world. But it is important that we continue to play, to try our best, rather than sit on the sidelines and blindly criticize those willing to give it a kick. Sadly, Galeano seems to have chosen to be nothing more than a spectator.
TWO FROM 2006
When traveling to Germany 2006 with my brother and his boys, I brought along two soccer books. Fortunately I had plenty of time to read on the plane, because we didn’t have a lot of downtime in Munich or elsewhere. One book was Fernando Fiore’s The World Cup. The other was Franklin Foer’s How Soccer Explains the World. While these don’t necessarily serve as model reviews, it should give you a taste of each:
How Soccer Explains the World: An Unlikely Theory of Globalization by Franklin Foer
When the editor of The New Republic sets out to write a book about the relationship of world football and globalization, fans of the game start to salivate. And Franklin Foer’s How Soccer Explains the World: An Unlikely Theory of Globalization certainly gives them something to chew on.
Though the book is well-written, it doesn’t necessarily provide a definitive conclusion about the relationship between soccer and globalization. The impact of soccer’s modern era, like the impact of globalization itself, is too fresh to be truly tested in such a manner. But the book does offer some eye-opening insight into the role the game plays in different cultures around the world, and the connections that can be made as societies, companies, and teams increasingly interact beyond their borders.
Foer combines the passion of a life-long soccer fan with his well-honed skills as a journalist to dig deep into areas that really matter. From the role soccer has played in helping Iranian women achieve a modest step toward dignity (equality remains frustratingly distant in that part of the world) to how Serbian hooligans helped Slobodan Milosevic commit genocide in the Balkans, the book looks at the role soccer has played in several key corners of the world. Soccer, he discovers, can be a tool for positive change just as well as an excuse for violence, hatred, and bigotry. Similarly, globalization can be embraced as a positive, modernizing force just as well as a means of oppressing and isolating the disenfranchised.
How Soccer Explains the World is a fascinating examination of sport and society in the modern era. And it probably asks as many questions as it answers. Yet it is both a good and important read for any soccer fan who cares what happens outside of their stadium.
The World Cup: The Ultimate Guide to the Greatest Sports Spectacle in the World by Fernando Fiore
The face of Univision’s World Cup coverage since 1998, Fernando Fiore was born in Argentina. His Argentine father’s parents were from Italy. His Uruguayan mother’s parents were from Spain. And if that doesn’t give you soccer credentials, I’m not sure what will.
Fiore’s The World Cup: The Ultimate Guide to the Greatest Sports Spectacle in the World was written specifically for the 2006 World Cup in Germany. It offers a history of the tournament to that date, a look at the teams competing in 2006, and a guide to the host cities and Germany in general. It’s simple stuff, but presented well, and in easy to digest chunks. Plus, Fiore has a good sense of humor and is not afraid to use it.
If you’ve never been to a World Cup, this book is a great place to start. Though much of it will be lost (it’s nearly 400 pages packed with plenty of photos and fun facts), given that it was really dedicated to the 2006 tournament, the section on the history of the World Cup is as good as you will find. It’s a shame that Fiore doesn’t do one of these for every tournament, as it would be a great way to prepare for the epic journey that comes every four years.
UPCOMING REVIEWS
I am a really slow reader. Plus I like to read about a lot of things besides soccer. But here are a few of the books I’m picking at. I’ll post reviews as soon as I can.
The Ball is Round: A Global History of Soccer by David Goldblatt
Inverting the Pyramid: The History of Football Tactics by Jonathan Wilson
The Manager: The Absurd Ascent of the Most Important Man in Football by Barney Ronay
Offside: Soccer & American Exceptionalism by Andrei S. Markovits & Steven L. Hellerman
Soccer Against the Enemy: How the World’s Most Popular Sport Starts and Fuels Revolutions and Keeps Dictators in Power by Simon Kuper
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