Sports Books Blog

Back from the Frankfurt Bookfair and as usual wondering whether or not it has been a success. Only time will tell. But all that networking takes its toll and it usually takes me two or three days to recover. This year I had one day when I didn’t have even one glass of networking and I do feel a lot better for it.

I did break a golden rule at Frankfurt this year. I learned early that you ask people to send you books after the fair rather than accepting there and then because they are heavy and you do not want to be lugging them home.

But this year I bought a book (with a bookfair discount but no publishers’ discount I might add) and carried it all the way home.

It was ‘A Day at elBulli’ by Ferran Adria, who is reckoned to be the best chef in the world. Not that I’ll ever find out. You have to be very well known to eat at elBulli or wait a very long time.

The book – beautifully produced by Phaidon – was an effort to carry home. It weighs more than three kilos which is about half a stone in old money. Oddly on the way to Frankfurt they asked to weigh my hand luggage; coming back they didn’t bother. Just as well.

The fair threw a great party on the Saturday night to celebrate its 60th anniversary – no, I did not go to the first one – and apart from the odd concoction they called ’sausage curry’ I had a great time. Free networking, you see.

Good to see a new website called ‘BookBrunch‘. It’s run by Liz Thompson, former editor of Publishing News, and Nicholas Clee, former editor of the Bookseller. I’ve long been worried about The Bookseller’s independence – it’s owned by Neilsen who are heavily involved in the publishing industry. That disturbs me just as I think it is unhealthy that the Sun and The Times are in the same group as Sky. Are the Sun and The Times going to comment on how over-hyped Sky’s sports coverage is?

So something independent representing publishing and book selling is to be welcomed and I wish Liz and Nicholas every success.

Off to the Frankfurt Bookfair this week. This event used to intimidate the hell out of me but now that we have a stand (and thus paradoxically somewhere to sit!) I’m quite at home.

It’s like standing on the corner of Times Square in New York. They say if you loiter there long enough and everyone you know will pass. Thus it is in Frankfurt. People you ought to see in the UK are there and this is the only time you meet them.

And there is an added benefit this year. As the world crumbles around us I won’t be hot wired into BBC News 24 and thus will have to do without Robert Peston for a whole week. Pure joy.

I still blame him for the Northern Rock crisis. From what I understand the bank’s balance sheet was OK until everybody wanted their money out thanks to his announcement and then things changed. Power without responsibility. 

There’s no denying he knows his stuff, but that pompous, mannered delivery and those excruciating pauses, as if he is thinking of the best way to put something only for it to be usual banal stuff. 

Plus he has what appears to be a giant ego… “as I was saying last night” with the peculiar emphasis on the “I”.

I wouldn’t go as far as to say bring back Jeff Randall because he never told me anything I didn’t already know but Hugh Pym should get more airtime.

It must be an age thing because I find the older I get the more strident I am about newsreaders and their like. I disliked Kate Silverton for a long time but she redeemed herself when doing the lunchtime news and was extremely good on “Big Cat Watch”. But she still scares me when she smiles.

I had a great weekend in Sunderland at three events connected with the launch of ‘Charlie Hurley: the greatest centre half the world has ever seen’.

It was like following royalty. I knew Charlie was well thought of in the area; after all they voted him their player of the last century. But I didn’t realise how well he was regarded until I witnessed the devotion he still attracts.

First we had a signing at the club shop and the queue was out of the door half an hour before it was due to start. Charlie welcomed everybody and the shop stayed open for an extra hour to accommodate the fans.

In the evening we were with the Sunderland Supporters Association. The event was restricted to 150 but they could have doubled that. Charlie was speaking with Eric Gates, another Sunderland hero, but it was Charlie they’d come to see and ask questions. The fans burst into a spontaneous rendition of “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie Hurley, the greatest centre half the world has ever seen” (guess where we got the title of the book) and it was very moving. 

Saturday morning saw a signing in Waterstone’s in Sunderland. It was supposed to be for just an hour but Charlie stayed for more than two hours and the shop sold out and we had to call in emergency supplies. Like all good publishers we were prepared; well actually we had to use stock we’d taken to the north-east for another event later in October!

It was in Waterstone’s that I got a really true flavour of what Charlie meant to the fans. Charlie, being from Cork, is a catholic and often used to attend church. One middle-aged man told him: “I used to get into trouble from my mam because of you.”

“Why’s that,” said Charlie.

“It was for going to church when I knew you were there. Me mam used to clip me around the ear.”

“What, for going to church,” said Charlie.

“Well, I am a protestant.”