This book starts quite slowly and during the first half I wondered if it was going anywhere, but I stuck with it and was rewarded with an exciting second half. Most of the action takes place not on the football field but in Carlos's extraordinary head: it is inhabited by his paranoias, lusts, dreams and memories of his homeland ...and by a series of loud voices alternately mocking, warning and advising him. These battles in his head are intense, compelling and convincing - they are the book's greatest strength. The book's other arena, the one outside the protagonist's head is also small - a few acres in and around a hotel - everything is tight, tense and claustrophobic. Although football is only a backdrop, anybody who loves the game will enjoy the way the author integrates the Polish team and the 1982 World Cup into his narrative. One may stop to wonder about a sympathetic central character who is a vain, womanising terrorist, kidnapper and murderer, but Atxaga is - like Greene and Dostoevsky - clever enough to make us side with his villain in the psychological battle with the chief police officer. Because the author made me care about Carlos, I found the last 50 pages very tense and the book hard to put down.