Eddie The Eagle (2015 film)

 A film which I had intended to see upon its release, but which somehow slipped away from my attention, was 'Eddie The Eagle', a biopic which tells the story of the British ski-jumper Eddie 'The Eagle' Edwards.

To summarize, Edwards achieved international prominence and attention in 1988 through his appearance at the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary. His struggle to achieve his dream, and his determination to compete captured the public imagination for a short while.

I remember the 'Eddie The Eagle' phenomenon very well, as I was a very avid follower of all sports at the time, that is 1988. I'm not sure whether this was a particularly instructive example of the amateur ideal, because even in the 1980s there were 'elite', successful athletes in the Olympics who were still, to a lesser or greater degree, 'amateur'. No, I think that the draw of the 'Eddie the Eagle' story was that he was an 'everyman' figure, someone who the blue-collar audience could relate to and identify with, having his moment of fame, and making the most of it, not always acting in the way which was expected.

Anyway, I recently got around to watching the 'Eddie The Eagle' movie at last. One of the first things which was noticeable to me was that the production values were of a quite high order. Visually it is a pleasing work, and the CGI and other effects tend to complement the story rather than acting as a distraction. 

Importantly, the makers did not try too hard to make everything look 'very' 1970s or 1980s, and so evaded a failing which weighs down quite a few biopics of this type. The scene is set, and some context introduced, early on with some 'flashback' sequences illustrating the younger Eddie's Olympic aspirations and his efforts to overcome adversity. 

Taron Egerton gives an endearing and plausible performance as Eddie, capturing some of the loveable naivete and the persistence of the character, as well as instilling some nice comedic touches throughout. The scenes set in the Edwards family home familiarize us with idea that they are honest, down-to-earth people, without romanticizing this unnecessarily.

One of the keys to the narrative for me was that Eddie was resolutely serious about his ski-jumping endeavours, whilst all around him people were laughing and expressing disdain. By the standards of many biopics the script was crisp, and even if the dialogue was (very) occasionally corny, some of it was sharp and impactful.

There is the obligatory 'training montage', although this one is quite amusing, and in another parallel with the 'Rocky' films, a central mentor-pupil theme. In this case the mentor/coach is played by Hugh Jackman. The Bronson Peary character is fictional, incidentally, but hey this is a frequent occurrence in biopics....

One false note for me was struck by the characterisations of the British Olympic officials and some of the British competitors at the '88 Winter games. For me this was a slightly clumsy attempt to present the story as one of Eddie against The World, or at least Eddie versus The Establishment. An over-simplification, in all probability, but such over-simplifications are often deemed necessary by film-makers or their overlords in order to create 'tension' and 'conflict'.

Of the supporting cast, I thought that Keith Allen was very likeable as Eddie's father, expressing concern that the young man is neglecting his "normal" career, but ultimately being proud of Eddie's achievements. Jim Broadbent pops up as a TV commentator.

The heart of the film for me was the period which Eddie spent training and learning his craft in Germany. Here we see how Eddie's unaffectedness and uncomplicated tenacity endear him to some people, but also how he is ridiculed and patronised by some of the top-drawer competitors in his chosen sport.  The Petra character quickly takes up Eddie's cause, although his 'coach' Peary takes some work before fully becoming a convert. Petra and Bronson are, you might say, stock characters, but they are vital in facilitating the forward propulsion and development of the story.

I would say that the decision to base so much of the screen time at the German location was an astute one, as it lent some continuity and stability to the narrative, and there is the bonus of some very pleasant scenery.

The scenes set at the Winter Olympics at Calgary are a touch flimsy, but this is common with movies falling under this category. There is some cursory exploration of the notion that other athletes thought that Eddie was receiving too much adulation and attention, but very little about the fears that he was falling prey to people interested in 'using' him for commercial purposes; I distinctly remember the latter being a centrepiece of the media coverage about Eddie in 1988.

I think that the film, intentionally or otherwise, evoked the slightly surreal nature of the Eddie Edwards episode which I recollect from 1988, a story which arguably cannot be repeated today. 

Overall, I enjoyed it, and it had more substance and heart-warming appeal than I had expected. It got across the idea that 'ordinary' people might not be able to achieve success measured in terms of gold medals or their equivalent but simply striving to be involved and included can invigorate and ennoble them, and act as an example to others, but the idea was communicated here without being preachy or heavy-handed.

The Top 100 Cricketers of All Time - Christopher Martin-Jenkins

 Another tome which had been on my bookshelves for years, receiving regrettably little of my attention, was 'The Top 100 Cricketers of All Time', written by the late Christopher Martin-Jenkins.

I was long an admirer of "CMJ", from enjoying his commentaries on radio and television, to reading his writings in book and newspaper form. His writing has a richness and a jauntiness, and his love for the game shines through in the book "The Top 100 Cricketers of All Time."

It should be stressed that this selection is purely of male players - a similar volume today would certainly incorporate female cricketers. In putting together this list of cricket's greatest, and as a genuine "concerner" for the game's welfare and integrity, I think that CMJ gave precedence to some players based on their overall influence on the game and its development, as well as the entertainment factor and the adherence to the spirit of the sport. Their statistical legacy in the record books was only a part of the considerations, it seems.

As we grow older, I think that sports fans tend to bother less about statistics and records, and concentrate more about the human aspects. This is the case with myself;so what if such and such a player's batting average was mediocre - that often tells only a fraction of the whole story. Artistry and memories also count for a lot. In my youth I often got into curious complexes, feeling bemused and even puzzled by the praise heaped on players whose career stats were decidedly modest. I am over that stage now!

There is a nice choice of photographs, usually conveying the individualism or personality of the subject(s). Old cricket photographs often have a genuine intimacy and charm.

Even though this work was composed in the twenty-first century, its general style and tenor, to an extent, bear some of the hallmarks of the time before cricket moved on to another plateau, commercially speaking. 

Martin-Jenkins regularly draws attention to the technical nuances of the game, highlighting each cricketer's strengths (and weaknesses). He also illustrates their more "subjective" capacities such as stamina and levels of concentration.

Above all, what came across for me when reading this book is the game's richness, diversity and complexity during its greatest periods. These things are perhaps not as immediately noticeable nowadays, in addition to that general air of "mystery".

The author goes to some trouble to obtain information and anecdotes which help to explain how players turned out the way they did. This includes details of their origins, coaching and experiences. 

It was good to see the inclusion of several relatively "obscure" people in this list. The importance and weight of players from India and Pakistan is also evidence of the writer's breadth of understanding, as is the due recognition to the contribution made to the game by Sri Lankans in recent decades. The vibrancy bestowed on the gam by all of its practitioners around the globe is given is duly noted.

CMJ's keen and discerning eye is apparent throughout in his facility for observing and capturing foibles and traits, those often intangible things which separated them from their peers or their predecessors, and which partly determined their spot in any "pecking order". An example of this is the article on Shaun Pollock, and his relative lack of explosiveness as an all-rounder. Of course, it is a matter of taste as to whether we should count this as a weakness, but admirable that the author could identify it as a factor, and analyse it in such acute terms. This sharpness of analysis, combined with a love of, and fluency in, the use of language, makes for a joyful recipe.

It might seem invidious to compare nineteenth century legends with modern limited-overs specialists, but Martin-Jenkins transcends this problem in part by linking together disparate generations in appreciation of the human and universal elements which explain and nurture success and greatness

There is also an engaging "looseness" about the format of the mini-biographies. They are not put together in chronological order, but done in such a manner which betrays a pleasing absence of rigidity.

In amongst the passages celebrating the brilliance of these people the author does not gloss over the less agreeable aspects of top-level cricket, such as intimidatory bowling, slow over-rates and so forth. 

All in all, a fine and admirable book.

Virgin Golf Record File - Alun Evans

 I always find it interesting and thought-provoking to read those books, residing on my shelves but somewhat forgotten and neglected, which were published some years ago.

Recently I dusted off a book called the "Virgin Golf Record File", by Alun Evans. It, or at the least the edition in my possession, was published in the year 2000.

The book contains some nice and informative histories of the various Major championships, tracing and highlighting the waxing and waning of the fortunes and prestige of those championships, and the swings in dominance between American, European and Southern hemisphere players. I really enjoyed the author's examination of some of the cultural and socio-economic factors which influenced the development and growth of these great events. The articles also serve as a history of "competitive" golf in general going back to the middle of the nineteenth century.

As a bit of a sports and statistics nerd myself, I love books such as this one, records and stats being mixed with some textual chronicling and context.

It is interesting that this edition was composed just as the Tiger Woods era was beginning, ushering in changes to the men's game which are still being felt today. 

Another observation is that there is a good deal less about women's golf than there certainly would be in a similar publication today.

It is also instructive to flick through the pages at a time when the men's professional game is garnering more mainstream publicity than for some time, largely because of the "organisational" divisions which have arisen. Parts of the book remind us that down the decades, pro golf was sometimes tranquil and stable, at other stages not so much.

Looking at the statistics sections, one striking trend which stands out is the phenomenal consistency of Jack Nicklaus, notably in the major championships. This was quite a feat, as he was competing at a time when the game was growing more and more global, and increasingly competitive. Nicklaus could easily have won, say, 50% more majors, and put some of his records out of sight. He endured as a force at the top level whilst the careers of others briefly soared and then faded away.  After his rivalries with Arnold Palmer and Gary Player, he then vied with the likes of Trevino, Jacklin, Watson and Ballesteros, and was still a player to be reckoned with even as the likes of Norman, Faldo et al began to take over the reins.

A good little book, all in all.

Muhammad Ali - His Life and Times - Thomas Hauser

 This was one of several enticing books which had been languishing on my bookshelves, waiting for that opportune moment when it would receive my rapt and undivided attention and interest.

The edition of this book which I had access to was published in 1997, so it obviously does not cover the closing period of Ali's life, but I found it to be an illuminating and interesting read, which equipped me with a greater understanding of Ali the man, as opposed to Ali the legend or the myth.

Much of the text takes the form of quotations, and extracts from interviews with, various figures who knew Ali or came into contact with him. At times it occurred to me that the work relied too much on this material, and would have welcomed additional direct interpretation and subjective analysis from the writer himself, but at the same time the reminiscences of a diverse group of observers serves to deliver a balanced and rounded view of Ali the person and the boxer. 

If I was to venture another criticism it would be that the coverage of Ali's early boxing career (his amateur days) is a touch thin. My perception was that the story moved somewhat hastily to him winning an Olympic gold and then initiating his professional career.

The turbulent and pivotal period of 1964-1970 is well covered, and here the recollections of people is invaluable, as it assists in understanding what an intricate position Ali found himself in. This was the section of the biography which I personally learned the most from, about Ali himself and also the social and cultural backdrop against which he operated.

As the book wore on, any minor reservations on my part gradually diminished, and the chapters chronicling the major boxing contests of the 1970s were nothing less than gripping and entertaining. There is a genuine sense of "time" and "occasion" in these passages, and it mattered little to me that some events are seemingly dismissed with little commentary. What mattered to me was the overall effect and what I discovered about that stage of his life and his boxing journey.

The information imparted about the business and promotional sides of boxing were also intriguing, eye-opening even. Life was indeed simpler, more informal and more "off the cuff" in those days.

As well as serving as an engrossing account of Muhammad Ali's life up to that point, the anecdotes, reflections and prose act as evocative portraits of the changing times, shifting attitudes, changing values and new forces.

The author and the contributors do manages to bring across the nobility and allure of boxing, as well as its occasional cruelty and destructiveness. I was fascinated by the chapters which examined the decline in Ali's career (the years 1976-1981), and this does not always make for comfortable reading. It is disconcerting to read about the fears for the boxer's physical wellbeing, and how long the situation was allowed to persist.

This biography quite bubbles and soars towards its conclusion. It pulls few punches, if you will pardon the pun. Aided by candid and honest opinions from some, it offers a clear insight and depiction of who the real Ali was, his journey in life, how he changed, and in what senses he remained the same, his flaws and his greatest genuine qualities. Also, what made him unique as a boxer and as a sportsperson.

This Sporting Life (1963 film)

This Sporting Life is a 1963 British film, directed by Lindsay Anderson, and based on the novel by David Storey. It stars Richard Harris as Frank Machin, a coal miner turned rugby league player. The movie follows Machin's professional trials and tribulations, and his romantic entanglements.

This film has assumed an almost mythic reputation within these shores, but it is different from how I remember it from my previous viewings. There is less rugby league action than one might imagine. One thing which is certain is that the piece would not have worked nearly as well had it been made in colour. 

If I discerned a message from watching the film, it was one of self-expression and honesty.  It was released in 1963, at a time when Britain was emerging from an introspective and deferential period, and bright young things from all kinds of social backgrounds were coming to the fore and making themselves heard.

I know that from the distance of the 21st century, some of the working class based "kitchen sink" drama of the early 1960s can even seem like self-parody, and occasionally comes off as patronizing. However, I think that This Sporting Life is plausible and credible in the main, partly because of the acting performances, and also because it lacks excessive self-consciousness. 

The movie strikes a chord with me, in a nebulous way. I was probably never really "working class" myself, in the truest sense, although my surroundings and contemporaries were.  There is an authenticity and candour here which is quite revelatory. People struggling to contain their feelings, but sometimes "letting go". That was something which I seldom saw in my youth. The grittiness and rawness seem real to me.

The social commentary here is quite subtle and "organic", somewhere in there for the viewer to pick out and ponder upon, and the "kitchen sink" elements focus primarily on the relationship between Machin and his landlady, played by Rachel Roberts.  As the film progressed, I thought that the portrayal of the human condition was increasingly bleak. Not a "feel good" film, from that point of view. 

The characters are struggling to communicate with each other, to open up, partly because of traditional British reserve and reticence. Frank Machin seems more expressive than most, but lacks subtlety and finesse in his dealings with others. Everyone else seems to conform, and this leaves Machin looking and feeling like an outsider, often uncomfortable in this milieu. An "angry young man"?.  Perhaps...

In contrast to the dark, dimly lit scenes in the house, the rugby portions of the movie are (comparatively) bright, less subdued and insidious, perhaps symbolizing the game as a form of escape for Machin from his other demons, frustrations and concerns. The picture is done in a "flashback" format, and this is employed to good effect, imbuing the work with additional dynamism and pace, and encouraging the viewer to muse upon meanings. 

Some of the scenes, especially those accompanied by the mildly avant-garde and creepy music, remind me somewhat of European art cinema, "audio-visually" at least.

The Machin character remains impassive and stony-faced when confronted with sycophancy and shallow fawning by social climbers. His responses, expressions and attitudes are possibly more ambiguous than those of your typical "angry young man". This also applies I think to his interactions with his "superiors", such as the rugby league club's owners. Whilst complex, he lacks savvy or sensitivity.  The brooding but enigmatic countenance is brilliantly conveyed by Harris. It is good to see some "animal" emotion in there, rather than endless oblique philosophizing.

This Sporting Life embodies a collision of  traditional values and the modern, business-like approach to life, as befits a film made during a transitional period in social history. Also, philosophies of life which are not epoch-sensitive are to the fore. Those who had decided "if you can't beam 'em, join 'em" stood out to me. One or two scenes depict Machin as detached, gazing upon the superficiality and pretense around him.

This feeling of detachment and alienation I could relate to.  The world is not a perfect place, and one can be too proud, and refuse to meet people halfway, ultimately to one's detriment. 

Another facet of Machin's personality rang true with me as well. That of not knowing how to behave, and what to say, at a crucial time. Misjudging situations and other people's feelings.  There is a fine line between honesty and leaving things alone which are better left unsaid. Being too eager to impress. Being out of practice, as it were, and this rustiness leading to a crudeness and insensitivity, and much later regret.

I feel that this film also serves as a pretty good study of the human psyche and the male condition especially. People being unable to communicate effectively, being on different wavelengths. This is one of the unpleasant, and unpalatable, realities of adult existence. At the root of it all, maybe, lie insecurity and loneliness. 

A great sequence near the end may encapsulate much of the film's narrative. We see Machin on a hill, looking down on the town, which could be seen as a microcosm of the world.  We then cut to a grim, brutal rugby tussle. Summing up his, and our existence, perhaps?  Then again, the rugby-life parallels are perhaps a little too convenient and easy.

Rachel Roberts' performance I find to be a real "grower".  Early on, it can seem a little bland and hesitant, but one has to see how things develop to appreciate that this was intentional. A strong, seamless effort.

This movie has a naturalness and a believability which makes it compelling.  This is real life. People here are not pointedly or blatantly wallowing in their predicament, or chafing at any kind of social chains. It is surprisingly fresh and resonant. Some of the topics and concerns explored are universal.  If anything, the film goes on too long.  It is not exactly light or "escapist" viewing, but it is satisfying and engaging.

Sebastian Coe - Coming Back - David Miller

Recently I have been going through a concerted phase of reading about the Olympic Games, and middle-distance running in particular.  This led me to delve deep into my "archives" to re-read the book "Sebastian Coe - Coming Back", by David Miller, published in 1984.

This is not a biography as such, but it documents that phase in Coe's career from the end of the 1981 season through to the aftermath of the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. It examines the runner's recovery from two years of illness and injury to retain his Olympic 1500 metres title.

What makes this work doubly interesting is that it covers a period when the sport of track and field athletics itself was going through a time of transition, when commercialism was being allowed to rise to the surface, and when inevitable growing pains were being encountered. Indeed, there are several instances here where those commercial pressures seemed somewhat at odds with the long-term interests of certain British athletes.

Coe was dogged by misfortune and setbacks in 1982 and 1983, and his often turbulent relations with the British press are examined here, as he is written off, and parts of Fleet Street revert to their traditional practice of knocking sports stars when they are down. A hardening of Coe's attitude reached its culmination in his famous gestures to the press box after crossing the finishing line in the 1500 metres final in Los Angeles.

This focus on his dealings with the media is just a part of a wider look at the Coe psyche and temperament. He displayed a resilience and a resourcefulness which many were unaware he possessed, in overcoming adversity to regain past glories. By the time of the '84 Olympics, one becomes aware of a serenity, almost, mixed with a confident resolve to succeed.

Another interesting aspect of this book is its close look at the training methods employed by Coe and his father/coach Peter, and how these were modified to suit the special circumstances of 1984. It becomes apparent how consummately he had peaked for his second Olympics, although I am left wondering how much the problems of 1983 might have actually played a role, by dictating the time when the athlete could begin serious running again.

Reading a book published in 1984 allows one to be "wise after the event.".  The author, for example, assumes in his calculations about the post-1984 athletics landscape that the Soviet Union and East Germany would still exist by the centenary Olympics of 1996. Also, Coe's proposed move up to the 5000 metres event, much discussed within these pages, never really materialized.  Also, he did eventually capture that cherished major title over 800 metres (at the 1986 European Championships in Stuttgart).

An enjoyable and interesting read, this one.

Superstars (TV series)

One of the staples of my childhood television viewing was the British/European version of the multi-sports competition "Superstars". Just recently I have been revisiting the history and the essence of this programme, and I was reminded what an entertaining, worthwhile and intriguing show it was.

I have vague and misty memories of watching the likes of David Hemery and John Conteh appear on "Superstars" when I was very young, and of course the Kevin Keegan cycling incident from 1976 is almost etched into the collective consciousness of the British nation.

The BBC's "Superstars" coverage was presented by David Vine and Ron Pickering, two of the most capable and likeable sports broadcasters of that era. Vine was authoritative, urbane even, and could paint great pictures with words. Ron Pickering, on the other hand, was enthusiasm personified, and his passion for sport and its benefits always shone through in his contributions.

For the uninitiated, "Superstars" pitted competitors from various different sports against each other in a succession of events, including sprinting, cycling, canoeing, weightlifting and the famous (or infamous) gym tests. Points were awarded according to the positions attained in each event. National series thrived in the USA, Britain and elsewhere, and European, International and World championships took place.

As a boy, the European superstars finals held a particular mystique and pull and, funny though it seems now, a taste of the exotic. Vine and Pickering were very adept at conveying the atmosphere in Rotterdam's Ahoy Stadium, where the European showpiece was stage. Special emphasis was placed on the banked cycling track there. Impressionable as I was, I almost gained the perception that "Superstars" was the most important and prestigious sporting event in the world, perhaps even surpassing the Olympics!

It has become a cliche, but a large part of the charm and appeal of "Superstars" was its propensity to propel comparatively little-known sportspeople into the spotlight, allowing them to exhibit their talents to a wider audience, way beyond the confines of their chosen speciality. Classic examples of this were Kjell Isaksson, the Swedish pole vaulter, Ties Kruize, the Dutch field hockey player, and the British judoka Brian Jacks. These men regularly outshone more famous and renowned athletes in this test of all-round sporting prowess.

I vividly remember the performances of Isaksson, the remarkable little pole vaulter. His feats in weightlifting were staggering from some one of his slight build. He was also formidable in the gym tests (parallel bar drips and squat thrusts).

Of course, Brian Jacks became a national celebrity in Britain in the late Seventies and early Eighties, and appeared to receive far more recognition for his "Superstars" achievements than he did for his accomplishments in the world of judo, which were themselves considerable. Jacks' counterpart on the other side of the Atlantic was the remarkable Canadian soccer player Brian Budd, who notched up three World Superstars titles, not to mention three Canadian titles! Budd was a formidable competitor in most of the events on the schedule, and he was also quite a character.

Another hallmark of the UK version of the show was in allowing older athletes such as Hemery, Lynn Davies and John Sherwood to prolong or extend their careers in the competitive arena. Many who grew up with "Superstars" possibly knew little of their respective careers and feats in track and field athletics.

It is interesting to analyze which sports appeared best suited to supplying successful "Superstars" participants. Pole vaulting provided Bob Seagren, Kjell Isaksson, as well as Brian Hooper, who shone at the tail end of the franchise's golden age in Britain.

What made pole vaulters so ideally suited to the challenge of "Superstars" and its format? I guess it had something to do with agility, "pound-for-pound" strength, speed, all-round athleticism and technical aptitude. This ensured that they were consistently good across most of the disciplines contained in the schedule.

Amongst football (soccer) players, the aforementioned Brian Budd was perhaps the exception which proved the rule. Generally, practitioners of "the beautiful game" seemed to lack the power and the strength to compete for outright honours, although they fared very well in areas such as sprinting - Malcolm McDonald famously broke the eleven-second barrier in the 100 metres in 1975. The extra power and muscle of rugby players (from both codes) appeared to make them more suited to the rigours and the nature of the "Superstars" test.

Were there any flaws in the make-up of the "Superstars" event? To me, the UK version seems to have placed undue emphasis on strength and brawn. More skill-orientated sports, such as racquet games or even something like ten-pin bowling or snooker, might have counter-balanced things in favour of those possessing finesse as well as muscle.

The rules barring or handicapping some competitors in their alleged "specialities" also seemed nonsensical and anomalously applied. Handicapping pole vaulters in sprints and 400-metre hurdlers in a steeplechase?  It made matters unnecessarily complicated and I think that a "swings and roundabouts" argument could be justifiably made here.

Allowing people to "opt out" of some events was also wrong in my opinion. I would have just required everyone to take part in every event. This was supposed to be a test of all-round proficiency, after all. Brian Jacks in the sprints and steeplechase would have been very interesting to watch!

But these are very minor gripes. To me "Superstars" in its prime was emblematic of its time, when the innocence of the era allowed such an enterprise to thrive. A great series!

The Rack Pack (2016 film)

Having recently been immersing myself in appreciation of snooker's "golden age" - from the late 1970s through to the early 1990s - I decided to watch the 2016 film "The Rack Pack", a comedy-drama which is set in that era, focusing primarily on the rivalry between Alex "Hurricane" Higgins and Steve Davis.

The early portion of the movie introduces us to the two main protagonists, capturing and invoking the contrast between the freewheeling maverick Higgins and the more reserved and clean-cut Davis. The "retro" settings and stylings are surprisingly convincing, and there is excellent utilization of classic Seventies rock and pop music (Led Zeppelin, T.Rex, The Who, Thin Lizzy etc).

I must say that I was impressed and drawn in by Luke Treadaway's performance as Alex Higgins. Alright, some might argue that he is too good-looking, and that he doesn't always exude the mercurial shakiness of the character. However, he does nail down much of the famed truculence and swagger, and some of the on-table mannerisms. Kevin Bishop is likeable and entertaining in a somewhat "cartoonish" portrayal of Davis' manager, Barry Hearn.

As is often the case with "biopic" type projects, facts, incidents and anecdotes are packed into a condensed timespan. Any inaccuracies and distortions here will only irritate the anoraks and those intimately cognisant of the true history and chronology. Allowances must be made for the comedy element of this production.

The snooker scenes are very realistic and credible, leaving me wondering whether the actors might have been selected for their roles because they had some modicum of proficiency at the game.

In emphasizing the contrasts in temperament, approach and playing style between the two main players, the film-makers may have slightly over-laboured the supposed "nerdiness" and squareness of the young Steve Davis. This was probably done to entrench the notion that the two men represented polar opposites.

A major sub-plot in "The Rack Pack" is the increasingly corporate and commercial nature of snooker, as orchestrated by Barry Hearn, Higgins' perceived exclusion and alienation from that milieu, and the increasing bitterness and resentment which consequently built up within him. Indeed, though this is ostensibly a work which chronicles and examines the Higgins-Davis dynamic, much of the most vibrant and penetrating dialogue is that between the Higgins and Hearn characters.

The one scene which rather jarred with me was the one featuring a nightclub "altercation" between the Hurricane and Cliff Thorburn. Did anything remotely like this actually happen in reality?  A few things like this were doubtless added for dramatic effect, like they are in many similar pictures, and they didn't really tarnish my overall appreciation of the piece.

Another intriguing sub-text is a depiction of the relationship between Alex Higgins and Jimmy White, the latter gradually inheriting the mantle of "People's Champion" from the former. The narrative seems to imply that White learned from some of the mistakes of his "mentor", being prepared to make minor concessions to pragmatism and conformity in order to fit in with a changing sport and a changing world.

The decline of Higgins is, I would contend, quite deftly, touchingly and sensitively handled in this movie. It dovetailed with one of the central messages of the film, about the "cultural" tensions and the changing of the times.  Alex played a pivotal role in creating and popularizing modern snooker, but found himself being marginalized and left behind as others prospered both on and off the table.

Overall, I found "The Rack Pack" to be an enjoyable and well-produced film. It concentrates mostly on the personalities and the human aspects, rather than the intricacies of snooker itself, and largely succeeds as a result.

Fever Pitch (1997 film)

Fever Pitch the movie is a 1997 fictionalized adaptation of Nick Hornby's acclaimed autobiographical novel, with the screenplay courtesy of Hornby himself.

I first saw the film a few years ago now, and thought that it was alright, if nothing special. Recently I subjected it to another watch, to see whether my perceptions of it might have shifted at all.

The movie centres on the character Paul (played by Colin Firth), and his obsession with football, and more specifically his beloved Arsenal. His consuming passion does not always sit easily with his personal relationships and his interactions with the "real world". This is all set against the backdrop of Arsenal's challenge for the 1988-89 League championship title.

I haven't read Hornby's book, a serious oversight I admit, but at least this didn't mean that I was constantly comparing film to book, invidious though such comparisons would have been anyway.

For me the best thing about the picture is the performance of Colin Firth as Paul. I've generally not been a major fan of his, but here he is immensely likeable and endearing as an "everyman" figure, genial but, like all of us, flawed.

Paul's new girlfriend Sarah (played by Ruth Gemmell) might initially seem like something of a stereotype, but the character injects the "tension" which is essential to making the whole thing work. I am perhaps not qualified to comment on the performance of the actress, as I haven't known many people like her character! Holly Aird, who I have always been a fan of, provides some good moments as Sarah's friend Jo.

This movie is now a bit of a time capsule, largely set as it is at a time when football was still seen by many as an undesirable, murky sub-culture. The post-Italia 90 broadening of the game's appeal, and its attendant new-found respectability, make some of the dialogue seem quaint, and I'm not sure whether this would have worked as well if it was set in the 21st century football/cultural environment.

Like so many modern films, it is well-produced and comfortable in that bland fashion. The dialogue is relatively subtle, though, even oblique, and the "philosophizing" is well-pitched and quite credible, doubtless due to the involvement of Nick Hornby.  So many similar works overdo the "meaning of life" angle, but here it is done sparingly and adroitly.

There are some retro/flashback sequences, mostly set in the late 1960s and early 1970s, which help us to trace and comprehend the origins of Paul's obsession. These are quite sweet, and Luke Aikman does a good, convincing job as the young Paul, as does Neil Pearson as Paul's father.

I guess that the main themes of the film are those of "growing up", and the extent to which we need balance in our lives between the practical and the more "irrational" pursuits. Do we need both in order to be truly happy, content and fulfilled?  However much we kid ourselves, some of our impulses can never be truly suppressed. They endure, and perhaps what matters is how we manage them.

"Fever Pitch" does have very faint echoes of the romantic comedies which were so prevalent during the 1990s, but the vacuity and schmaltz are thankfully absent.  In its understated way, it is more like an art film, although elements of the ending border on the corny.

Not a masterpiece by any means, but entertaining and heart-warming.

McLaren Memories - A Biography of Bruce McLaren - Eoin Young

This book had been nestling on my shelves, but had been awaiting my full attention. I am glad that I gave it a read. Biographies are always more satisfying, and linger longer in the memory, if the reader comes away with a significantly greater appreciation for the subject than beforehand. This was the case for me with this book about the life of the New Zealand racing driver Bruce McLaren.

The book is based on the recollections of the author, a long-time friend and associate of Bruce, but equally importantly it draws heavily on the driver's own words and writings. There is no in-depth analysis of his character, although indications of his innermost feelings and concerns emerge in the various quotes and reminiscences.

There is some valuable material about his childhood, and struggles against adversity, and those first steps to immersion in the spheres of engineering and racing. Insight is also gained concerning the burgeoning of his ambitions, once he arrived in Europe.

To me, the middle sections of the book were the most illuminating and enthralling, evoking as they did the atmosphere and flavour of racing in the late Fifties and Sixties. McLaren's laconic and dry humour is a delight. The schedule which the drivers and teams of those days coped with is, looking back, extraordinary, and one gains a sense of the improvisation which was vital, in organisation and logistics. The haphazard, frenetic and breathless state of things seemed also part of the fun and the stimulation.

Overall, McLaren Memories greatly augmented my knowledge and understanding of the man's achievements and abilities.  It is not a massively penetrating examination or appraisal of its subject's psyche and motivations, but it is an entertaining and endearing portrait of a popular and successful figure, who had a short but eventful life.

Books About Sports

Most of my non-fiction reading in recent times has focused on history and philosophy, but it is notable how good and absorbing the best sports-related writing can be. Here are some of the sports-orientated books which have made the greatest impact on me in recent times, or which I just found enjoyable, informative and enlightening.....

Bodyline Autopsy, by David Frith.  An absorbing, erudite and meticulously researched chronicling of England's contentious cricket tour of Australia in 1932-33...

Several works on cycling have left quite an indelible impression.....

Merckx: Half Man, Half Bike, by William Fotheringham...

Eddy Merckx : The Cannibal, by Daniel Friebe.  Another excellent portrait of the great Belgian cyclist....

Put Me Back on My Bike : In Search of Tom Simpson, by William Fotheringham.  A fascinating and candid biography of the tragic English cyclist...

The Lost Generation, by David Tremayne.  An intensely compelling, highly moving and beautifully illustrated telling of the story of three British racing drivers who died young during the 1970s....

Gilles Villeneueve: The Life Of The Legendary Racing Driver, by Gerald Donaldson.

Inverting The Pyramid : The History of Football Tactics, by Jonathan Wilson.

Back Home - England and the 1970 World Cup, by Jeff Dawson.  A highly entertaining and nostalgic look at the national football team's campaign in that fabled tournament in Mexico....

All of these books I would recommend.

The Amazing Summer of '55 - Eoin Young

Just recently, I surveyed some of the unread books piled up in a corner of my humble abode.  One which caught my attention was The Amazing Summer of '55, written by the late Eoin Young. This tells the story of the dramatic, tragic and turbulent motor racing season of that year.

The book takes the form of a series of articles, arranged in chronological order, covering the pivotal racing events of 1955. Extensive use is made of quotes from participants and excerpts from diaries, giving many of the episodes a genuine rawness and immediacy. The individual articles are concise and breezy, and they cover not just the "obvious" topics and incidents, but also some more obscure and less-publicized things which occurred during the year in question.

Human interest stories are combined with technical details.  The informality and relative lack of regimentation of the mid-Fifties shines through, although doubtless the "old hands" of that period bemoaned how things were different from previous times.

This was an intriguing epoch, not just in motor racing but in the wider world. The remnants of the "pre-war" world were increasingly in collision with elements of modernity such as technological progress, scientific advances and social change. The stories concerning Ruth Ellis and James Dean help to illustrate and emphasize the latter.

The epic and momentous nature of the Mille Miglia never ceases to impress and captivate, and it is accorded due prominence here. There are some evocative quotes and passages, and amusing anecdotes.

A strong quality of this book is how it covers the broad canvas of motorsport, not just the Grands Prix, but also sportscar racing in all its facets, and also the Indianapolis 500. One can get a real flavour of the culture of racing back then, and the attitudes and motivations of the people involved.

Of course, the disaster at Le Mans in 1955 figures strongly in this work, and the horror is powerfully evoked. Some interesting material is featured relating to the aftermath, the ramifications and the investigations, especially on the response of Mercedes to the tragedy.  These sections, and also the chapter examining the Tourist Trophy race at Dundrod, highlight perhaps most acutely the differences between now and then.

I worked my way through this book through it very quickly, which is generally a good sign. It is the kind of book which prompts the reader to seek out additional information about some of the topics covered.  A lively and enjoyable read.

The Lost Generation - David Tremayne

As part of my current campaign of re-reading books, I went back to David Tremayne's "The Lost Generation", his 2006 study of the lives of three British racing drivers (Roger Williamson, Tony Brise and Tom Pryce) who died tragically young during the 1970s.

This book has rightly been the subject of considerable acclaim, and it is even one which can be recommended to the non-motorsport fan, such is the poignancy of its stories and the richness of the author's writing, knowledge and understanding.  The beauty of the photographic content also makes it visually appealing. Both the text and the pictures help to evoke the era, as well as the human qualities of the subjects.

It is tempting to say that those were "simpler times", but it is perhaps more accurate to say that they were more heterogeneous, and less regimented. Corporate conformity was but a cloud on a largely unseen horizon.

This book relates a story of hopes dashed, potential unfulfilled and hearts broken. At the same time it beautifully articulates the attributes and characters of the three young men, as well as many of their associates and contemporaries. As much as it is a portrait of Roger, Tony and Tom, it is also a compelling snapshot of an epoch.

For me, one of the strengths of "The Lost Generation" is the care taken by Tremayne to obtain input and contributions from a wide variety of sources, ensuring many perspectives and angles. The structure of the book, which could have been a tricky task to accomplish, helps to make the story flow quite seamlessly.

The chapters dealing with the drivers' rise through the racing ranks remind us of the highly competitive, but informal, environment which prevailed in those days. The depth of the research also means that misconceptions can be corrected. In this reading, for example, Tony Brise's progress through the junior formulae is less meteoric and easy than can sometimes seem the case. There is some interesting speculation as to how his occasional struggles may have shaped his outlook.

Don't expect a dry, exhaustive chronological or statistical account of the races. The focus is really on how they progressed, and on an examination of their personality traits and abilities.  Negatives are not glossed over, and things are balanced but respectful. Heavy use of contemporary press reports and interviews augments the authenticity and scope appreciably.  All of this contributes to a sense that things are being chronicled in a rounded and representative manner.

An impressive dimension of the book is the care taken to analyse the evolution of driving styles, this being especially pointed in the case of Tom Pryce, who was sometimes forced to temper his exuberant approach when faced with cold motor racing logic.  Also, we are given an insight into what changes, if any, were discernible in the three men as they climbed the ladder.

The chapters which address the deaths of the three drivers are moving, powerful but sensitively done. Equally, the author does not shy away from highlighting thorny issues.

Some of the passages, particularly those which look at the personal and family lives of the subjects, are heartbreaking.  There is some persuasive analysis about "what might have been", and how the three compared with others who survived and prospered in the sport.

"The Lost Generation" is an absorbing, honest and superbly realized work.

Rush (2013 movie) - more thoughts

When it was first released on DVD, I composed a blog post reviewing the 2013 movie "Rush".  This is the Ron Howard film which tells the story of the Seventies Formula 1 drivers Niki Lauda and James Hunt.  I recently watched the movie again, and wondered whether my views and impressions might have shifted in the intervening period. I propose to leave aside for the most part any historical inaccuracies which I noticed.

From my late 2015 standpoint, I might describe the feel of "Rush" as being slightly "forced", a little airless and compressed. It is visually impressive, but lacking a touch of elegance, guile and finesse, notwithstanding the inclusion of a few powerful and insightful scenes.

It has been suggested that the movie's comparatively modest budget, and associated time constraints, might have contributed to its flavour and to some of its flaws. My thoughts on this are ambivalent - in places the film has a very "professional" look, but elsewhere one can see where corners might have been cut. For my own tastes "Rush" is a touch too "digital" and post-modern, lacking the charm and fluency of some earlier racing films.

Part of my assertion that the film is "forced" is based on something which I observed when I first saw it almost two years ago. The makers appear to have had a "checklist" of anecdotes and stories (some apocryphal) which they felt they had to pack in during the early portions of the picture. My sensitivity to this phenomenon may be traceable to my status as a 70s-F1-anorak. I appreciate that this would not occur as much to more casusl viewers.

The performances of the main actors attracted much comment. Daniel Bruhl rightly received much praise for his portrayal of Niki Lauda. Quite apart from the physical resemblance, he also managed to capture many of the Austrian driver's traits and mannerisms.

Chris Hemsworth as James Hunt was less universally acclaimed, and it is true that he does not quite evoke the nuances of James' inimitable persona, or the voice. The comparison between the two actors is invidious, though. It may well be more difficult to convincingly play Hunt than it is with Lauda.

I think that "Rush" really gets on track during the scenes relating to the close season of 1975/76, when we are shown Hunt's struggles to get a drive for the forthcoming season, as well as his personal problems. Cliches aplenty, of course, but some very fine moments too. In these sequences Hemsworth is very good.  The movie improves at this point because it becomes less about "back-story", composites of events and time-compression and more about a straight account. The dramatic raw-material is also better....

The Nurburgring sequences I think were well produced, without being excessively long or sensationalist, and the hospital scenes were handled more delicately than one has come to expect in films of this sub-genre or in "biopics".

The dialogue between Niki and James at Monza is convincing and credible, and the press conference where Lauda speaks is actually better than similar scenes in most movies. However, the bit where the journalist is beaten up has rightly been deplored as over-the-top and misrepresentative. A real fly in the ointment, that one. On the plus side, the imagery used at the start of the Monza race is highly effective in conveying the tension and the apprehension.

As for the racing action scenes in "Rush", well on reflection they are a mixed bag. Some are good, and CGI is used to fine effect, but others are less dazzling. One wonders why this was.  The "arty" close ups of crash helmets, suspension parts and so forth are entertaining, and a feast for the senses, but hardly original.

The build-up to the final 1976 race at Fuji is also well done, with a "less is more" ethos concerning dialogue. Visuals, sound and music all help to create the mood and the tension before and during the event.

The final scene at the airport is noteworthy both for its quality and its plausibility. It also comes as quite a surprise to have something this reflective and pensive after what had preceded it. Philosophizing, yes, but in a believable and poignant vein.

Looking at it honestly, "Rush" is a good and entertaining, if unexceptional, piece of cinema, its main strengths being Bruhl's performance, the inherent attractiveness of the subject matter and the occasional amusing or poignant scene.

Formula 1 on Channel 4

Earlier today it was announced that UK terrestrial television coverage of Formula 1 racing will be taken over by Channel 4 in 2016, as they assume the role previously performed by the BBC. Under the three-year deal, 10 races per season will be broadcast live.

The reaction to this news among British F1 followers appears to have been mixed, but I am more sanguine than most about the announcement. It has been confirmed that under the new agreement there will be no advertisement breaks during the actual races to be shown live on Channel 4.  The ad breaks were a bugbear of some fans when the sport was previously shown on commercial terrestrial TV (ITV) in the UK.

I have generally quite enjoyed Channel 4's coverage of sports, a good example being their presentation of Test Match cricket a few years back. They have a reputation for doing things slightly differently in comparison to other British broadcasters, so with luck this ethos will help to ensure that their Formula 1 coverage introduces some innovations and a fresh approach.

Much will depend on the personnel recruited to act as presenters, commentators and pundits on Channel 4's show. My ideal scenario would be for some of those on the previous BBC team to be involved, with a few fresh faces to spice things up.

It is good that F1 will remain on terrestrial TV in Britain. Interesting times ahead....

Bodyline Autopsy - David Frith - book review

If I had to make a shortlist of my favourite sports-related books, then pretty near to the top would be Bodyline Autopsy by David Frith, a beautifully written and carefully researched account of England's acrimonious 1932-33 cricket tour to Australia.

The book was originally published in 2002, and the game of cricket has changed a bit since then, but the erudition and sweep of this work are timeless. The author's love for the game and its history leaps from every page, as does an appreciation of the world beyond cricket.

Thankfully, this book does not overplay the political and social importance of the Bodyline series, but at the same time it stresses the context in which the controversy unfolded. The world was a different place in 1932, and the relationship between England and Australia was different to what it is in the 21st century.

Much of the early going is taken up with an exploration of the similar controversies and debates which preceded the infamous tour, and how the tactics of Douglas Jardine and his bowlers might have evolved. This all helps to place what happened in some kind of perspective.

Quite apart from examining the Bodyline phenomenon, this book gives us a lovely window on the world, and cricket, as they were back then. The haphazard and piecemeal nature of England's selection process for the tour, and the informal and leisurely nature of the tour schedule and the social scene, evoke great nostalgia. There are also some charming anecdotes from England's ship journey Down Under.

This was also a world which was only just beginning to grapple with the notion of mass communication, and it was also a time before attention spans began to ebb away and finesse in all things was gradually dispensed with.

Frith sets out to analyze the drama from all angles, dispelling some myths and misconceptions along the way, drawing attention to anomalies and contradictions in the cliched popular version. The level of thoroughness is admirable. A wide range of sources and evidence are drawn upon to paint a vivid and balanced picture. The use of photographs is very tasteful. They are integrated nicely into the text, and their character augments the scholarly texture.

The accounts of the Test matches are absorbing and well-paced, making the reader feel that he or she was really "there". Naturally, the pivotal Adelaide match is accorded special attention, and there is an exhaustive "forensic" examination of the leak of details of the dressing room exchange between the Australian captain and the England management. The fact that a "leak" such as that was so emotive in the Thirties again illustrates just how much times have changed.

Reading this book again, the thought "what was the big deal" springs to mind, but we have to place these events in the context of those times. Bodyline stood out because it was seen to breach unwritten rules. At the same time, it was not really a historical watershed either; it didn't signify the imminent breakdown of civilization, and normal service was resumed, for a while anyway.

One of the book's strong points is the depth of its analysis of the aftermath of Adelaide, the sentiment harboured in both countries, and the attitudes in the corridors of power. The relating of the diplomatic toing-and froing is rounded and realistic, not exaggerating the gravity of the episode, but emphasizing the role of statesmen and civil servants. The priority of the politicians appears to have been to limit the damage beyond the portals of cricket.  The precariousness of the economic and trade situation is also highlighted (these were Depression years, of course). In retrospect, one wonders what might have happened had fences not been mended successfully, given what was to transpire globally in the late 1930s.

A sizeable proportion of Bodyline Autopsy addresses the fall-out from the tour, including the efforts to conciliate the two cricketing cultures, and the machinations which affected Harold Larwood and Douglas Jardine in particular. Interestingly, there is also some effort to look at how perspectives changed in some minds over time. There is a look at the later lives of many of the key participants, as well as how Bodyline was perceived in later decades.

This is a beautifully written work, endlessly stimulating, meticulously researched and also thought-provoking. A perceptive and authoritative look at a seismic sporting controversy, as well as a revealing glimpse at how things were back then.

Rocky (1976)

Having recently watched Raging Bull, I moved on to another famous boxing-themed movie of that time, Rocky, released in 1976 and starring Sylvester Stallone. It may not be considered as "cerebral" as Martin Scorsese's 1980 epic, but it is still an uplifting and highly entertaining film.

The scenes which accompany the opening titles, and those which follow, introduce us to Rocky Balboa's environs and surroundings, and indeed the gritty Philadelphia settings are central to the film's appeal. Early on, we are also given a sound grasp of Rocky's essential goodness and humanity, which does not always sit well with those with whom he comes into contact.

The one sentiment which strikes me whilst watching this picture is that it is not long enough, as there is insufficient time to fully explore both Rocky's burgeoning relationship with Adrian (Talia Shire) and his preparations for the fight with Apollo Creed. Both of these elements of the story feel ever so slightly rushed and compressed.

Of course, the character of Mickey, so wonderfully played by Burgess Meredith, adds the necessary tension and dynamism to the movie, by way of his irascible nature and his sometimes fractious relationship with Rocky. Burt Young as Paulie is another important building-block which elevates Rocky above the ordinary.

It is impossible to dislike the Rocky character, as he is so honest, uncomplicated and endearing. The scenes with Adrian are quite sweet, if initially awkward, and the "romantic" angle is a clever plot device, helping to further illustrate the human and compassionate side of this tough and rugged guy. There are nuances and eccentricities to Rocky which make him quite intriguing, such as the keeping of pet turtles.

Of course, one of the most talked-about scenes in this movie is the one where Rocky runs up the steps in the centre of town and raises his arms in triumph.  It does indeed stir the blood. However, the earlier scene focusing on an early morning training run is equally evocative for me.

The cynics will say that much of this picture is corny and that the plot is far-fetched, especially the notion of an obscure fighter suddenly being granted a world title opportunity, but I think that this film touched people because it went against the grain of much of Seventies cinema in its heart-warming and optimistic tone and outlook.

I had forgotten that Joe Frazier makes a cameo appearance, resplendent in a wonderful turquoise suit! The Balboa-Creed fight scenes start a little shakily, but then improve markedly.  I suppose that the moral of the outcome is that it didn't matter too much who won the bout, but attaining one's personal goals is more important, in this instance "going the distance"...

I wouldn't describe Rocky as a masterpiece, but those who watch it will likely feel better about themselves and their lives.

Raging Bull (1980)

I recently watched Raging Bull, Martin Scorsese's 1980 biopic of the boxer Jake LaMotta, starring Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Cathy Moriarty. Here are a few of my thoughts on the movie....

The film has a distinctive and strong visual appeal, partially based on it being in black and white. Somehow the grittiness, and occasional brutality, of the tale is conveyed much more strongly that way. The film has a great period feel, and not just traceable to the monochrome being chosen. The "retro" settings are beautifully realized and convincing, unlike many movies of this type.

Raging Bull's fight sequences are very famous, and justifiably so, but they take up less of the picture's running time than some people might imagine. Much more of the film is taken up with a compelling, and sometimes unsettling, examination of LaMotta's insecurities and demons.

Of the boxing scenes, some are quite graphic, the final encounter with Sugar Ray Robinson standing out in this respect. These parts of the film, including the crowd scenes, are also well produced, succeeding where so many other sports-orientated pictures fall down. The scenes in the ring are short and snappy, and not quite as "arty" and surreal as is often thought.

In some ways, I think that Raging Bull is a slow burner, and its early stages could strike some observers as slow and pedestrian.  However, its greatness gradually emerges as it goes along, and the stellar performance of Robert De Niro has a strong bearing on this. Strangely enough, he is so consummate, natural and plausible in the role that the brilliance of his portrayal of the boxer can almost pass unnoticed. Of course, Joe Pesci shines in the part of LaMotta's brother Joey, as does Cathy Moriarty as Jake's wife. Whatever happened to Cathy Moriarty, by the way?

This may be a film whose true impact can only be fully absorbed following a few repeated viewings. The "human interest" angles mean that one does not need to be a boxing aficionado to enjoy and embrace it. It can also be argued that it is one of the last examples of a golden age of American cinema which began in the late Sixties.

All in all, a gripping and powerful work.

Put Me Back On My Bike-In Search Of Tom Simpson - William Fotheringham

A book which has won many plaudits is "Put Me Back On My Bike", William Fotheringham's biography of the British cyclist Tom Simpson, who died during the 1967 Tour de France. I recently read the book myself.

I had enjoyed Fotheringham's biography of Eddy Merckx, and found this one even more compelling. As well as chronicling his life and achievements, it examines the tragic circumstances of his death and his legacy for British and world cycling.

In the past, I had rather shied away from fully exploring the Simpson story, mainly I suppose because of its tragic end and unsettling elements. It is a tale with many old-school elements, but also starkly pertinent for modern eyes and eyes. 

What emerged most of all for me, over and above the well-documented episodes, is Simpson's complex and quirky personality. He appears to have presaged characteristics which we associate with modern sportspeople, but there were endearing traits and contradictions. I found myself warming to the man, even allowing for his flaws.  Aren't we all flawed in some way?  The Tom Simpson who is portayed here is much different from the one who, in my ignorance, I had sometimes imagined. His interest in money, the mild English eccentricity and the mischievous side. The one area which I expected more to be made of was the notion of the "working class boy made good", but it seems that this was only a part the story

It could even be said that he was a visionary in the context of the British scene, having his eyes on the Continental arena from an early stage, and in his renunciation of the insularity and backwardness of the domestic landscape. His approach to training and preparation is also covered in detail here, from his focus on diet to his constant striving for any minute technical or tactical advantage, his hunger for knowledge and information, and how he was prepared to stretch himself and his physical limits.

The testimony and anecdotes, together with the documentary sources, are part of what makes this book work for me, giving it real substance and authority. The recollections of those closely associated with Simpson all go towards composing a vivid picture of the man and his life. The human nitty-gritty is uncovered, not just the dry facts about races won or lost. Some of the stories are funny, others are unsettling or poignant. The author also visits some of the locations central to the tale, augmenting the tapestry.  The book is compact and to-the-point, but the level of detail and insight is impressive.

In relating the Tom Simpson story, Fotheringham also evokes the atmosphere of cycling, and to a lesser degree, European society in the Sixties. Whilst the vibrancy and cosmopolitanism are celebrated,  I sensed his unease about the organisation and financial structures of the professional sport in that era, which often placed the competitors in an invidious position. We also gain a taste of how Simpson was in some respects a man of his time, when sports and the world in general were going through a transitional phase. There are some touching and intriguing passages about the "expatriate" cycling community in Belgium, and how Flanders welcomed and embraced the young Brits who went there to pursue their dreams.

The last third or so of "Put Me Back On My Bike" necessarily assumes a darker tone, as the factors contributing to Tom's death are addressed, as is the issue of drug use in cycling, and how the peloton and the powers-that-be viewed it. Needless to say, these chapters contain much less in the way of levity and lightheartedness than the earlier parts of the work. It seems to me that the standard line that "everybody was doing it" is only accepted by the author up to a point, and he elaborates on the reasons for this.

All in all, I found this book to be an engrossing and informative read. It is well put together, powerful in places, and candid. Highly recommended.

Merckx : Half Man, Half Bike - William Fotheringham

For some time, I have been fascinated by the great Belgian cyclist Eddy Merckx.  He was one of the world's pre-eminent athletes during the early years of my childhood, and for years afterwards his name was synonymous with the sport of cycling. Fortunately, the world has been quite well served in recent times with books about the great man. I had already read Daniel Friebe's biography, and more recently came across William Fotheringham's book "Merckx;Half Man, Half Bike".

My interest in Merckx was only deepened when I learned more about his approach to his sport, and how he was perceived by his contemporaries. It is probably true to say that he remains something of an enigma.

The thing which stands above all in this relating of the Merckx story is the sheer workload which he took on year after year, There was little picking or choosing of events, by him or his peers, and no concentration on a few select races, as would become the norm in the 1990s.

Fotheringham gives due prominence to the cyclist's upbringing, and how the influence of both of his parents impacted on his temperament and his outlook on life and racing. It is also interesting to note that Merckx came from a slightly different social and cultural background to many of his rivals. This painted him as an outsider, but also has been cited as enabling him to have more universal, less parochial appeal. Of course, how "The Cannibal" sat within the linguistic and cultural make-up of Belgium, and Belgian cycling, is a theme which recurs throughout this work.

One of the things which interests me most about Merckx is how he shunned and broke down many of the cosy conventions and assumptions which prevailed in cycling when he arrived on the scene. This antagonized some, but drew acclaim from others for the way in which it shook up the status quo. It is noted here that his riding style drew ire from some purists, but he won over some sections of the press and public because of the intensity and courage of his modus operandi.

I think that Fotheringham scores highly because he continuously delves into the mind of Merckx, to see what made him tick, how insecurity and a fear of failure, as well a colossal work ethic, drove him on. He was constantly challenging himself, finding out what he was capable of, rather than just doing the minimum necessary to win. These imperatives, coupled with immense natural physical gifts, make a select few sportspeople very special. The author documents how Merckx's methods evolved and were refined throughout his career, from junior days, to the amateur ranks, through to his peak years as a professional, and to the period of decline. The author also draws on his knowledge of the finer technical, as well as tactical, points of cycling.

This book seeks to address some of the mythology which has built up around elements of Eddy's career, including the assertion that he lacked genuine opposition. These themes are explored in a nuanced and balanced way, and I was left with a much enhanced understanding of the Merckx phenomenon.