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21 of 48 people found the following review helpful:
Incroyable, but too short?, 21 Aug 2003
Let me first make clear that this a tremendous book about the most successful manager of the most successful team in the history of English football. Scousers, Mancunians, Brummies, and Nottinghamians will scuttle to their record books, but as Yassar Arafat said: lies, damn lies and statistics! But there are some omissions in this book: while there is some essential detail about Arsene's childhood, (the impact of living in a family bistro on his approach to defending set pieces is for all to see, and the refusal of his father to buy him spectacles at a formative age gave him the unique eyesight he has today), there are some gaps in a book which is said to be exhaustive but which could have been a three volume set. As a fan of Wenger's athleticism, I would have liked to have known when he first was given a bicycle, for example, or how the Revolutionary Anarchist Parisian spirit of 1968 influenced his views on team discipline (it must have), or indeed whether the Rubik cube craze of the mid-1980s helped train the huge Wenger mind. There is also a lack of detail on Wenger's life in Japan (no pictures of his house! No information on his attitude to Kimono dragons and other Japanese phenomena!); his own diet; the music he likes; or how he spends Christmas (or for that matter Easter), all of which I yearned to learn about. There is also limited detail about how he revolutionised Arsenal's training ground. Such as it is, the information about the pool, the pitches and the medical centre is completely fascinating, but there are only about eight pages on this, and understandably the author fails to cram in details about the materials used, or for that matter the overall vibe/aesthetic. There are some incredibly interesting insights though. The decision of Wenger to paint the walls of the club canteen calming pastel colours was an astonishing psychological leap, which most have turned Sir Alex a most unpastel shade with envy! Another extraordinary surge forward was Wenger's adjustment of the club diet - he eschewed the previous staple of lager, chasers, pool, gambling and a kebab - was replaced by an echt-Buddhist diet sans Kronenbourg. This soon raised the passing, movement, shooting, lunging, diving and punching of the first team to another level. I would have liked to have seen more about the titanic (but ultimately mismatched) struggle between Wenger - le Professeur - and the Govan dockyard upstart that is 'Sir' Alex Ferguson. Both reflect their clubs' cultures, Wenger especially so with his cosmopolitan sophistication, refined tastes and general aura of poshness. There can be no doubt, for example, that Wenger's honorary OBE is fitting, whilst Ferguson's KBE is entirely inappropriate for a man of his social position. Ferguson's interest in wine is typically parvenu, whilst Wenger's is the mark of Continental je ne sais quois. Rees does insufficient justice to Wenger as a man of quality, a gentleman in a world of players. It is a unfortunate omission, therefore, that Rees does not confirm my suspicion that Wenger is - like myself - a Daily Telegraph reader. All in all, not so much a book as an existential manual, which I have taken to reading to my work-subordinates to remind them that to win in life, one must always think quickly, sometimes show beauty, but often spit, gouge and even cheat. And even then you might only finish second.
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