I'm not sure this even qualifies as a book review so much as a rant, but (as I shall point out later) I am fully prepared to accept most, or at least some, of the blame for the way I did NOT connect with this book, so - onward! Into the valley of death rode the somewhat less than Six Hundred!

I did not think it was even possible for me to be bored spitless by a book about football, but I was wrong. "Among the Thugs" proved exactly how wrong I could be. At first glance - which was when I saw the book, belonging to Alan, sitting unread-by-me on a bookshelf - I thought it would be even better than "Committed", by Mark St. Amant, because it involved real (as opposed to fantasy) football and, even better, English football. Admittedly, this was 100% my fault for not realizing that the book was not about football, but about football hooligan violence. My bad.

Still - somewhere on the intarweb I once read a synopsis of Edith Wharton's novel "Ethan Frome", which stated in its entirety, "There was a man named Ethan Frome. His life sucked." Well, there you have it - that's all there is, that's all that need - or can - be said. Yes, of course, one could elaborate, one could restate that situation in a variety of ways and flesh it out with any number of details, but even if one were to wax poetic for more than the 180 pages it takes Ms. Wharton, one would simply be paraphrasing, reiterating and restating the central and only point, which is: there was a man named Ethan Frome. His life sucked.

"Among the Thugs", however, is a far more complex endeavor than "Ethan Frome", requiring not two sentences, but entire TABLES to properly summarize. Here you go - begin each endeavor with "Much against my better judgment, I found myself at--" and then pick one item from each of the 3 columns.

Old Trafford	OMG lads were drinking!	a crowd gathered!
Millwall (Bermondsey)	OMG lads were drinking!	a crowd gathered!
Stamford Bridge	OMG lads were drinking!	a crowd gathered!
White Hart Lane	OMG lads were drinking!	a crowd gathered!
Upton Park (Boleyn Ground)	OMG lads were drinking!	a crowd gathered!
St. James’ Park	OMG lads were drinking!	a crowd gathered!

Now pick one from the next 3 columns! Mix 'n' match! Have a blast!

violence ensued	nothing happened	it seemed like there might be violence but then nothing happened
violence ensued	nothing happened	it seemed like there might be violence but then nothing happened
violence ensued	nothing happened	it seemed like there might be violence but then nothing happened
violence ensued	nothing happened	it seemed like there might be violence but then nothing happened
violence ensued	nothing happened	it seemed like there might be violence but then nothing happened
violence ensued	nothing happened	it seemed like there might be violence but then nothing happened

Now (you're almost there, without having spent money, ordered it or having read it! Go, you!) pick one from each of the last three columns:

the police showed up	then some more nothing happened	I felt sad.
the police showed up	then some more nothing happened	I was confused.
the police showed up	then some more nothing happened	I read “The Guardian”.
the police showed up	then some more nothing happened	I felt sad.
the police showed up	then some more nothing happened	I was confused.
the police showed up	then some more nothing happened	I understand the plight of wommyn – and I felt sad.

And there you are: the entirety of the narrative (minus pesky details) of "Among the Thugs"! I presume that in amongst all of this, matches were held; teams won, others lost, some tied; Tommy Docherty scored some goals and Ron Atkinson put a few in the "W" column for My Team - that is, at least presumably, for none of these things are actually addressed in the book.

But I'm prepared to take some of the blame - I did read the book jacket and think it was going to be about FOOTBALL, not violence and fuckwittage, so totally my bad, and perhaps I just don't 'get' the violence inherent in English football, being both American and a chick (not a lad) - though the author is American, he did live in England for a number of years, which I didn't. Still, as much as I honestly, truly, hate to give a book a bad review, when I happen to read a sentence like this: "I couldn't believe that I was subjecting myself to this thing again, that I had once found it interesting," and all I can think of is, "Holy Mother of God, dude! You too?!? 'Cause, I was reading this book and every time I pick it up I find myself thinking - " oh. Er. Yeah. Oops. (blush) Sorry.

I will close by saying that nothing in this book has made me doubt the truth of the Very Important Axiom that
"If ever they're playing in your town,
You must get to that football ground;
Take a lesson, come and see,
Football taught by Matt Busby!
Manchester, Manchester United;
A bunch of bouncing Busby Babes,
They deserve to be knighted!"

(Oh - if you wonder why a girl from Cowshit, Georgia loves Manchester United Football Club, it's because this fine-ass dude named Georgie Best played for them, and Mr. Best was oft-quoted as saying, "I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I just squandered." Words to live by, my friends - words to live by.)