Somehow, considering it was first published in 2010, I only just got my hands on this book. The title has been a reminder in my phone for about a year, trying to spark me into pulling the finger out and actually buying it. Or, borrowing it from the library that I visit about six times a week. Lucky for me Santa Claus isn’t as tardy as I am. I (slash he) know what I like and I knew this would go down well.
The real stories of a female journalist with no interest or inclination towards sport being dunked head first into a world of plus-fours, googlies and uppercuts is definitely entertaining. Truss notes the mistakes she made, the unlikely situations she found herself in, at times due to her inexperience, the perils of the unglamorous press box, the historic fixtures she was present at and the segregation insisted on between some other journalists and her.
Written in a style that is funny, honest and easy to go along with, reading this book is effortless. Except that I have had to restrain myself from laughing on a few occasions. I nearly displayed teeth through a smile the other day on the tube but I managed to catch myself on just in time. The joy of the tale though for me, is that she did end up falling for sport. She was converted into a form studying, statistic laden, holistic nut because she went with it.
Good on her. I’m pretty jealous.