Those Feet

July 15, 2013
In this wide-ranging cultural history, journalist Winner explores the link between the English character and a game that the British Empire carried from Brazil to Bhutan. Originating as a kind of organized village brawl, football, as it is called outside of the U.S., rose to become the most popular sport in the world. In that time, the English fell from football’s supreme masters to its court jesters, schooled by one nation of upstarts after another—Hungarians, Germans, Brazilians, Italians, et al. Winner looks at the English climate, and English notions of nostalgia and manhood, for reasons why his homeland has struggled to adapt to the modern version of the “joga bonito.” Winner’s account wanders, a typical two pages taking the reader from a 1905 history of football to England’s 1996 World Cup victory, from a Stephen Fry radio program to former Labour Prime Minster Harold Wilson. While his easy erudition is impressive, the digressions can be unrewarding. Winner is best when he anchors and extends his analyses, such as in a late chapter where he examines the type of play dictated by the stiff soccer boots and heavy balls of the 1950s. For football fans, this book has all the pleasures of watching a game in a bar next to a loquacious old coach with three Ph.D.s.

Starred review from August 1, 2013
Conceived as a sequel to Brilliant Orange: The Neurotic Genius of Dutch Soccer (2002), Those Feet takes a similar approach to the country of the author's birthand a physical, unimaginative style of play he felt alienated from. It's neither a history of the game nor a memoir, instead exploring the interplay between sport, history, and national character. Drawing on a wealth of observation and a rich variety of sources, Winner asks, Why don't the English play sexy football?; analyzes the connection between RAF tactics in WWII and the way the English play; explores history, real and imagined; contrasts the English view of themselves and foreigners; and mines the rich vein of fatalism that fuels English humor. (Interviewee Nick Hornby observes that there's just one joke: it's cold and we're rubbish. ) For thinking fans of the game, this is exquisitely pleasurable reading. Winner is as likely to quote from Orwell or Kundera as Viz or Roy of the Rovers, and his dissection of the cult film The Italian Job is a marvel. As he finds acceptance, and even fondness, for the English game, his insight, humor, warmth, and enthusiasm place him in the top echelon of soccer writers.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2013, American Library Association.)