Fever Pitch
by Nick Hornby
Fever Pitch is both an autobiography and a footballing bible rolled into one. Nick Hornby pinpoints 1968 as his formative year–the year he turned 11, the year his parents separated, and the year his father first took him to watch Arsenal play. The author quickly moved “way beyond fandom” into an extreme obsession that has dominated his life, loves, and relationships.
I’ve been meaning to read Fever Pitch for years, ever since I saw the movie based on it (the British one with Colin Firth, not the American remake), but last week fairclough and I went to see The Damned United and I decided that I absolutely needed to read it right away. Strangely enough considering that sentence, I couldn’t care less about football… but I am fascinated by the football fans. It was really fun to be reading about Hornby’s outlook on fandom and find endless parallels with my kind of fandom (tv shows, movies, books.)
From all the things I’ve heard from other people about Fever Pitch, it seems to be one of those books you either love or hate. And the line doesn’t seem to be drawn between those who love football and those who’ve never seen a game, or those who love Hornby’s novels and those who’ve never read any of them. But I am solidly in the “love” category, and have already started reading another of his books (Juliet, Naked.)
Suggested, semi-related reads: How Soccer Explains The World: An Unlikely Theory of Globalization
ETA: Completely unrelated to the review, but… I have this distinct image in my head of what Nick Hornby should look like. I don’t know why, but I’ve always pictured him as a kind of Neil Gaiman type. Possibly a cross between all the actors who have played his main characters (because, really, they’re all pretty much him), so this weird amalgam of Colin Firth, John Cusack, and Hugh Grant. But I finally saw a picture of him and was completely surprised to find that he’s balding and looks like my uncle! *grin*
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