It's not often you pick up a football book and come across the line 'But, as the renowned French psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan has it..' but then it's not often you pick up a football book as honest (to use the author's terminology) and refreshing as this.
Stephen Foster has written a book that easily recreates what it feels like to follow a less than successful football club through the course of a season. And this I feel, is it's major plus. For every disassociated, gloryfied Premiership 'Big Club' supporter we need to remember there is at least one, if not more, of us who follow the also-rans. For most of this book, it's easy to replace the words 'Stoke City' with the name of your own club and you'll know exactly what he's talking about. Poor performances on the pitch, bad management in the boardroom, it's all displayed here in it's earthy glory.
That said, the season the author writes about is not a typical lower division story. For although we can juxtapose our own club at many points, much of this book is uniquely Stoke-esque. The humour, the schadenfreude, the quintessentialness of the region comes across as he explains to the reader quite why he, and many more, believe that Stoke have punched below their weight for so long.
The dual dimension of the use of his son (football buddy, and also as counterpoint to explain quite why he feels the need to put himself through such drudgery.. often he asks of his son 'why are you still coming? you don't need to.' of course, his son says exactly what he needs to hear 'because, you fool, it's Stoke'. Clearly, especially in the season told in the book, the author feels the need to re-confirm exactly why he travels 400miles just for home games when the football on offer is such a poor standard when compared to a team 2 mins from his doorstep).
All in all, this is a fantastic read. A story of football as we, who watch in the lower leagues, know it. If you are a BIG CLUB supporter you'd do well to re-acquaint yourself. Who knows, you could be down here next.