Probably the most pretentious novel I have ever read. An epitire of dribble and mindless rambles that one can only let go over ones head, for the man is clearly in a world of too much money and so on. I howled at his scornful comments regarding the world cup and those of so dreary meloguous wraths he ceases to end of commenting on. What a spoilt brat! The man is on over £80,000 a match and gets dropped from the England squad, and replaced by old fashioned Gareth Barry!
Grow some balls Frank, or quite Frankly, no-one will like you!