Revolution
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My Father had already read this book when he bought me a copy. He told me it was a “dreadful book”. Mindful of the fact that one of the co-authors is Gary Armstrong, I asked him whether he meant it was dreadfully written (I return to this point below). He said not. His point was that the book tells a dreadful story. He’s right.
The blurb on the back of the book says that it “details the history of the boardroom of Sheffield United Football Club, focusing particularly on the foibles of the men who over three decades from 1980 tried, and largely failed, to turn the “Blades” into a profitable business and successful club”, and it certainly does what it says on the tin.
The book follows a rough chronology – the first chapter gives a potted history of the way the club was run from its foundation to the arrival of Reg Brearley in 1980, and then we are taken through the Brearley years, the Sam Hashimi fiasco, Paul Woolhouse’s abortive takeover and Brearley’s return, the Mike McDonald and Carlo Colombotti chairmanships and through the McCabe years up to and including the appointment of Gary Speed - as my Dad says, it's a dreadful story. There are also breaks in the chronology as chapters are devoted to particularly, er, interesting characters whose doings before and after their association with the club merit a mention, like Stephen Hinchcliffe and Hashimi, but the narrative does not suffer from this. Indeed, it’s very well written and moves along at a good pace – like many good books you are surprised at how fast you are getting through it. Explanations of the complex areas of the story are well done – the section on the Tevez affair is particularly well done in this regard, and the verbal portraits of the men in charge (using their own words from media quotes) are very well drawn. The only thing missing from a structural perspective is an index, which would have been useful.
The readability of the book was in part a pleasant surprise to me because although there is no doubt that Gary Armstrong is a clever man and knows his subject matter (as does Matthew Bell, who is of course the editor of Flashing Blade), I have sometimes found his writing style difficult to get along with - "Blade Runners" was a disappointment to me from this perspective. This concern doesn't apply here. The first chapter's attempts to draw parallels between what was happening at the Lane and in wider society at the time doesn’t quite work in my eyes, but after that it is a page turner all the way.
I found it interesting that reading the book caused me to question my own views of the club’s history. By way of example, I am no fan of Steve Bruce and have always thought that his departure from the Lane was the merely the first of a few exits he has made just as the going gets tough. If the book is accurate, this is an unfair view of Bruce’s career at the Lane. He comes across as someone who takes a job on the basis of what turn out to be out and out lies regarding funding, and struggles on in difficult conditions for as long as anyone could be expected to. Reg Brearley has also perhaps been treated badly by history. Mention of his name brings to mind bad memories like the sale of Brian Deane, a 3 sided ground and squabbles with BIFA, but Bell and Armstrong remind us that Brearley did a lot of good work at the club in his earlier years, particularly in the period from 1981 to 1984, and there’s a good argument that he was the most innovative chairman we’ve ever had – Andy Daykin is quoted as saying that “with some ideas he was years ahead of his time”. It should also not be forgotten that Brearley was only involved between 1993 and 1995 because Paul Woolhouse (who vies with Stephen Hinchcliffe for the title of the most dishonest person featured in the book) failed to complete the purchase of his shareholding.
Bell and Armstrong refrain from voicing their own opinions on the events they are relating too strongly – the story is gripping enough without them needing to do so. This serves the topic well, because there is no “right way” to run a football club, and decisions that look sensible to one man might look absurd to another, look necessary to people with inside knowledge, or look different with the benefit of hindsight – the James Beattie transfer is a classic example of this. Indeed, the dispassionate look at Kevin McCabe’s reign, where the authors largely let the facts speak for themselves, is welcome as it’s something lacking from the vast majority of message board discussions on the topic. In some ways it’s a shame that the book is already out – I would have liked to have seen what Bell and Armstrong make of this season’s events.
In a short conclusion at the end of the last chapter the authors say that United’s bizarre recent history is down to chance and serendipity, and could have happened to any club. They add that if there a “United angle” it is a complacent boardroom that couldn’t see the way football was heading. The message I took away is a gloomy one. We hear a lot about the club having to live within its means, but the common thread running through the book is that except on the rare occasions when a manager produces a good side out of virtually nothing (Bassett, and to a lesser extent Warnock) you cannot succeed in the modern game without money. Brearley, McDonald and McCabe have all found out the hard way that cutting off funding and selling players to balance the books is a strategy that sends the club into a downward spiral. With odd exceptions, a well funded club will do well, and a poorly funded club will do badly. It really is that simple.
In summary, this book should be read by all Blades fans with even a passing interest in how the club is run or its recent history generally, and it deserves a wider audience than that. In fact, whilst pausing to acknowledge the fine work of Denis Clarebrough and Andrew Kirkham, “Fit and Proper?” is in my opinion the best book ever written about Sheffield United.
The blurb on the back of the book says that it “details the history of the boardroom of Sheffield United Football Club, focusing particularly on the foibles of the men who over three decades from 1980 tried, and largely failed, to turn the “Blades” into a profitable business and successful club”, and it certainly does what it says on the tin.
The book follows a rough chronology – the first chapter gives a potted history of the way the club was run from its foundation to the arrival of Reg Brearley in 1980, and then we are taken through the Brearley years, the Sam Hashimi fiasco, Paul Woolhouse’s abortive takeover and Brearley’s return, the Mike McDonald and Carlo Colombotti chairmanships and through the McCabe years up to and including the appointment of Gary Speed - as my Dad says, it's a dreadful story. There are also breaks in the chronology as chapters are devoted to particularly, er, interesting characters whose doings before and after their association with the club merit a mention, like Stephen Hinchcliffe and Hashimi, but the narrative does not suffer from this. Indeed, it’s very well written and moves along at a good pace – like many good books you are surprised at how fast you are getting through it. Explanations of the complex areas of the story are well done – the section on the Tevez affair is particularly well done in this regard, and the verbal portraits of the men in charge (using their own words from media quotes) are very well drawn. The only thing missing from a structural perspective is an index, which would have been useful.
The readability of the book was in part a pleasant surprise to me because although there is no doubt that Gary Armstrong is a clever man and knows his subject matter (as does Matthew Bell, who is of course the editor of Flashing Blade), I have sometimes found his writing style difficult to get along with - "Blade Runners" was a disappointment to me from this perspective. This concern doesn't apply here. The first chapter's attempts to draw parallels between what was happening at the Lane and in wider society at the time doesn’t quite work in my eyes, but after that it is a page turner all the way.
I found it interesting that reading the book caused me to question my own views of the club’s history. By way of example, I am no fan of Steve Bruce and have always thought that his departure from the Lane was the merely the first of a few exits he has made just as the going gets tough. If the book is accurate, this is an unfair view of Bruce’s career at the Lane. He comes across as someone who takes a job on the basis of what turn out to be out and out lies regarding funding, and struggles on in difficult conditions for as long as anyone could be expected to. Reg Brearley has also perhaps been treated badly by history. Mention of his name brings to mind bad memories like the sale of Brian Deane, a 3 sided ground and squabbles with BIFA, but Bell and Armstrong remind us that Brearley did a lot of good work at the club in his earlier years, particularly in the period from 1981 to 1984, and there’s a good argument that he was the most innovative chairman we’ve ever had – Andy Daykin is quoted as saying that “with some ideas he was years ahead of his time”. It should also not be forgotten that Brearley was only involved between 1993 and 1995 because Paul Woolhouse (who vies with Stephen Hinchcliffe for the title of the most dishonest person featured in the book) failed to complete the purchase of his shareholding.
Bell and Armstrong refrain from voicing their own opinions on the events they are relating too strongly – the story is gripping enough without them needing to do so. This serves the topic well, because there is no “right way” to run a football club, and decisions that look sensible to one man might look absurd to another, look necessary to people with inside knowledge, or look different with the benefit of hindsight – the James Beattie transfer is a classic example of this. Indeed, the dispassionate look at Kevin McCabe’s reign, where the authors largely let the facts speak for themselves, is welcome as it’s something lacking from the vast majority of message board discussions on the topic. In some ways it’s a shame that the book is already out – I would have liked to have seen what Bell and Armstrong make of this season’s events.
In a short conclusion at the end of the last chapter the authors say that United’s bizarre recent history is down to chance and serendipity, and could have happened to any club. They add that if there a “United angle” it is a complacent boardroom that couldn’t see the way football was heading. The message I took away is a gloomy one. We hear a lot about the club having to live within its means, but the common thread running through the book is that except on the rare occasions when a manager produces a good side out of virtually nothing (Bassett, and to a lesser extent Warnock) you cannot succeed in the modern game without money. Brearley, McDonald and McCabe have all found out the hard way that cutting off funding and selling players to balance the books is a strategy that sends the club into a downward spiral. With odd exceptions, a well funded club will do well, and a poorly funded club will do badly. It really is that simple.
In summary, this book should be read by all Blades fans with even a passing interest in how the club is run or its recent history generally, and it deserves a wider audience than that. In fact, whilst pausing to acknowledge the fine work of Denis Clarebrough and Andrew Kirkham, “Fit and Proper?” is in my opinion the best book ever written about Sheffield United.
