In his case, from the age of 18 for two decades in Nottingham, with Clough, “an extraordinary journey with a contradictory, Chinese box of a man — idiosyncratic, eccentric, wholly unpredictable.” Clough’s one-liners are magnificent, for example, on a time before blanket player representation: “the only agent back then was 007 — and he shagged women, not entire football clubs.” Hamilton’s poignant, revealing book is a wonder. Back in the book, two stories are told: how a black US high-school football prospect (crack addict mother, dad killed in prison) changes after adoption by a rich white family, and how the game itself has changed with respect to the “blind side”, a quirk of player growth and tactics. Financial Times columnist Simon Kuper wrote this accomplished and quirky footballing travelogue when he was still only in his early 20s. Brian Clough (see elsewhere on this list) spent 44 days as manager of Leeds United in 1974. Says Agassi: "I knew in the book I had to expose everything." As a study of football partisanship, one of the game’s most important emotions, it is astonishing. His lid-lift on the jobbing cricketer’s lot is a celebration of shortfalls, on and off the pitch. It is an account of the 1968 US Open semi-final between Arthur Ashe and Clark Graebner, a profile of both men and their place in US society at the time. "You won’t believe me, but it was right in that very moment," about to take the first penalty in the 2006 World Cup Final shoot-out, "I understood what a great thing it is to be Italian. An epic journey for the team and their chronicler, superbly told with sharp reportage, dry humour and real feeling. Simpson's harrowing account of his and Simon Yates's calamitous assault, in 1985, on Siula Grande, Peru, has rightly transcended the sport of climbing and become a legendary fable for what humans are capable of doing to survive. The author knows a lot about cricket, but he also knows a lot about myth, mystery, obsession, drinking and noble pursuits undertaken by the ignoble. King of the World: Muhammad Ali and the Rise of an American Hero (1999) by David Remnick focuses on the Clay-becomes-Ali era of the early Sixties. What we guarantee: at least one book that you’ve never read and can buy now in original paperback for holiday reading this summer. As the former FT man in Buenos Aires, he knew Argentina and its favourite son perhaps better than any other English-language writer. It’s genuinely stunning. England’s 64-cap hooker begins this second account of his life by effectively apologising for the less-than-candid nature of the first, then describing the sexual abuse he endured as a child, why he came to deal with it as an adult and what happened when he told his mum. Equally extraordinary was the presence of McGinniss, a US writer famous for a revealing Richard Nixon book and true-crime doorsteps, as the upstarts’ Boswell. Brilliant, evocative profiles of winning gamblers including Bobby Riggs (of the 1973 'Battle of the Sexes' tennis match), pool legend Minnesota Fats and Tim Holland, backgammon’s best ever. Ashe is black, Democrat, bookish, skinny; Graebner the opposite. What the following list includes: two books about Brian Clough, two novels, two books on tennis and a dozen other sports covered, plus backgammon. Burn, known for his mixing of fiction with non-fiction in the New Journalism style, spent a year documenting snooker during its mid-Eighties’ boom, and produced one of the lesser-known classics of British sportswriting. Even if you're forced to take that holiday in your garden. Out to get him is his American teammate Greg LeMond, who finished second to Hinault in the 1985 Tour and wants the result reversed in 1986’s race. Said Gordon Burn (see elsewhere on the list), “if the English novel needs a kick up the pants... consider it wholeheartedly kicked.”. Castel Di Sangro is a small-time football club that miraculously rose through the Italian pyramid to Serie B’s second tier for the 1996–97 season. Once read, never forgotten. Adams was still a regular for Arsenal and England when his jaw-droppingly frank autobiography was published at the start of the 1998–99 season. Also learned: he adores video-game football and always plays as Barça. Fill the gaps between watching sport with the greatest writing about Muhammad Ali, Brian Clough, Diego Maradona and more By Paul Wilson and Will Hersey 21/04/2020 His drinking problem destroyed him personally yet seemed to leave his football unaffected (wearing bin bags under training kit to sweat out the booze served him well). This writers’ favourite began life, as most of its author’s books do, as an article in The New Yorker. He also observed, close-up, the press, fans and hooligans. Esquire participates in various affiliate marketing programs, which means we may get paid commissions on editorially chosen products purchased through our links to retailer sites. We earn a commission for products purchased through some links in this article. Hold your right hand out in front of you, palm facing you, fingers spread, then bend your middle finger at the knuckle. Journo props to Esquire contributor Moore, too, for tracking down both men more than 25 years later for illuminating postscripts. Everything you’d think the 21st-century footballer is advised to leave out of an autobiog is here: infidelity, itemised career earnings, dialogue with the internal voice of crippling self-doubt (“you pathetic fucker, Cascarino!”), mystery injections from club physios and, most candidly, the fact you were not really qualified to play for your country. It’s harder for fans to follow Hornby’s best piece of advice — be seen reading the papers’ back pages on the first days of a new job, to attract fellow supporters — but he absolutely nails the inexorable pull of football fandom. Of his five books about taking part in pro-level match-ups in boxing, baseball, ice hockey, golf and US football, Paper Lion, on the latter, is the finest. It centres, of course, on one of the most amazing escapes ever achieved: with Simpson hopelessly hanging off one end of a rope, Yates is faced with cutting it to prevent them both being killed. To millennial sportswriters who never leave the office (or sofa) to live blog sport on TV, Plimpton’s participatory journalism (“that ugly descriptive”, in his words) must seem preposterous and grand. Reng and Enke were planning to write a book together; Reng wrote it alone after Enke killed himself in November 2009. “Tony Goal”, as the Republic of Ireland (perhaps) centre-forward was known in France, teamed with Irish writer Paul Kimmage, whose cycling book Rough Ride and rugby book Engage, had a shot at being on this list. It offended baseball so much, Bouton’s 1971 follow-up was called I’m Glad You Didn’t Take It Personally. (That it is still in print, after several bestselling years, would also be a surprise to him.) Of course, Senna is beloved; even more so since the 2010 documentary biopic. It’s a truly priceless privilege." Having spent the year before the World Cup earning the trust of the England players and manager Bobby Robson, Davies was let into the camp during the tournament. Expect fights, prostitutes, broken lives, redemption. Four books in particular stand out, together covering every angle you could wish for. With unprecedented access to the stars – Greg Norman, Nick Price, John Daly and Nick Faldo to name just a few – and rookies alike, it reveals the disparate personalities and personal travails behind the TV images and how these combine with the particular demands of a sport where the margins between success and failure are so thin. Kuper travels to 22 countries to find out how football has shaped individual national politics and culture – and vice versa – meeting players, politicians and picking up anecdotes and observations along the way. In this slim volume, which punches far beyond its weight, McPhee plays it best of all. Burns weaves it all together magnificently. The Fight (1975) is Norman Mailer’s amazing retelling of the Rumble in the Jungle, and the giant, glossy Greatest of all Time (2003; 2010 reprint) by Taschen, is the coffee table book to top them all. He has kit sponsors rewarding improved performance with “a couple of short-sleeved casual shirts” and that time he interrupted coitus to turn over the Donna Summer tape. As mid-life crises go, Barich’s, aged 35, is special. What follows is a staggering tale of will and courage that also addresses the perennial question of what drives people to climb mountains in the first place.