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The Story of the World Cup by Glanville, Brian (2014) Paperback
The dramatic and controversial history of the world's leading tournament. Brian Glanville's classic account is a celebration of the great players and matches from Uruguay in 1930 to South Africa in 2010 - and a bold attack on all those who have mismanaged the 'beautiful game'.
480 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 1993
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About the author
Brian Glanville
120 books9 followersBrian Lester Glanville was an English football writer and novelist. He was described by The Times as "the doyen of football writers—arguably the finest football writer of his—or any other—generation", and by American journalist Paul Zimmerman as "the greatest football writer of all time."
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
December 31, 2012
I desperately wanted to love this book: it was given to me by my wife as part of a Christmas tradition where we buy each other a second-hand book that we might not have bought ourselves, but which we think "Of course!" once we open the wrapping. I'm a football fan, a lover of the World Cup (one of our favourite shared memories is of me utterly failing to remain quiet whilst watching Australia v Japan in a hotel room during WC2006 whilst she unsuccessfully tried to get some sleep next to me), an utter football tragic in as many ways as time and money let me be. This looked like a good fit. I really, really wish it had been.
Sadly, the book turns out to be a depressingly mundane read from an author who seems to have been given a word-a-day calendar for Christmas and grown bored with it by about January 5th: every winger in the history of the sport is 'insidious' (and half of them 'little'); every right foot that scores a goal a hammer; every left likewise; and while 'fulminating' may be a cool word to pull out and use when you want to impress a girl you like, I hadn't read it in a text in something like 20 years, which makes the sixteen times it appears in this book so laughable it verges on a drinking game.
More disturbingly is Glanville's preoccupation with describing players via their skin or hair colour. Three types of players exist in Glanville's world: those with a mane of blond hair, like Gabriel Batistuta or Luis Hernandez; those who are 'dark', like Gerd Muller or Franz Beckenbauer; or most worryingly, those he simply describes as 'black'. In the early pages, in those first few tournaments where it is quickly apparent that Glanville has no direct experience and is pulling together reports from the time, such a description can be accepted as a yardstick of the modernising effect that black footballers were having on the national aspirations of countries like Brazil and Uruguay. It serves to highlight the special attributes certain players brought to their tournaments, and what they overcame to get there. By the time we get to 1994, an he still insists on singling out players like Aron Winter for this description, there's only one conclusion that can be reluctantly drawn. There is simply no need for the description anymore. It is Glanville, not the circumstance, who accords importance to the colour of a player's skin.
It leaves a lingering taste in the mouth, but it's not the only problem.
Glanville can't decide whether the book is to be a Wisdenish collation of facts or a more personal, opinionated series of recollections by a man who performed journalistic duties at a long series of the World Cup events, and has been able to extend his research back to cover those that occurred before his time. It leads to a schism of approach between pre- and post-1966 reportage: dry as dust to begin with, and lapsing increasingly into irrelevant asides that do nothing to advance the narrative of each tournament (his constant niggling at, and denigration of, for example, both Kevin Keegan and Bobby Robson, is never at any stage backed up with a reason why he feels this way towards an admired player and manager). Ultimately he tries to cover both styles, and falls between them both, coming across like nothing more or less than the boring nerk at the end of the bar who thrusts himself into a passionate fan argument without being asked, and proceeds to bleed it dry by acting like an utter anorak: lacking humour, original insight, or anything approaching an understanding of the passions that drive the argument in the first place.
Sadly, the book turns out to be a depressingly mundane read from an author who seems to have been given a word-a-day calendar for Christmas and grown bored with it by about January 5th: every winger in the history of the sport is 'insidious' (and half of them 'little'); every right foot that scores a goal a hammer; every left likewise; and while 'fulminating' may be a cool word to pull out and use when you want to impress a girl you like, I hadn't read it in a text in something like 20 years, which makes the sixteen times it appears in this book so laughable it verges on a drinking game.
More disturbingly is Glanville's preoccupation with describing players via their skin or hair colour. Three types of players exist in Glanville's world: those with a mane of blond hair, like Gabriel Batistuta or Luis Hernandez; those who are 'dark', like Gerd Muller or Franz Beckenbauer; or most worryingly, those he simply describes as 'black'. In the early pages, in those first few tournaments where it is quickly apparent that Glanville has no direct experience and is pulling together reports from the time, such a description can be accepted as a yardstick of the modernising effect that black footballers were having on the national aspirations of countries like Brazil and Uruguay. It serves to highlight the special attributes certain players brought to their tournaments, and what they overcame to get there. By the time we get to 1994, an he still insists on singling out players like Aron Winter for this description, there's only one conclusion that can be reluctantly drawn. There is simply no need for the description anymore. It is Glanville, not the circumstance, who accords importance to the colour of a player's skin.
It leaves a lingering taste in the mouth, but it's not the only problem.
Glanville can't decide whether the book is to be a Wisdenish collation of facts or a more personal, opinionated series of recollections by a man who performed journalistic duties at a long series of the World Cup events, and has been able to extend his research back to cover those that occurred before his time. It leads to a schism of approach between pre- and post-1966 reportage: dry as dust to begin with, and lapsing increasingly into irrelevant asides that do nothing to advance the narrative of each tournament (his constant niggling at, and denigration of, for example, both Kevin Keegan and Bobby Robson, is never at any stage backed up with a reason why he feels this way towards an admired player and manager). Ultimately he tries to cover both styles, and falls between them both, coming across like nothing more or less than the boring nerk at the end of the bar who thrusts himself into a passionate fan argument without being asked, and proceeds to bleed it dry by acting like an utter anorak: lacking humour, original insight, or anything approaching an understanding of the passions that drive the argument in the first place.
January 12, 2015
This book is worth having simply because Brian Glanville has probably covered every World Cup since 1950, but I think it's been surpassed by other entries in it's field by now. The writing is beginning to feel stale and formulaic, like he just tacks on a new report every 4 years.
August 3, 2020
An excellent and insightful book, which provides a hugely comprehensive overview of each World Cup since the tournament's inception in 1930.
Glanville summarises each tournament succinctly and insightfully. His distaste for much of FIFA's practices is clear throughout, as are his somewhat curmudgeonly views on respective rule changes and the continued presence of penalty shoot outs as a mechanism to decide drawn matches. At times, this, and Glanville 's frustrations with other factors, such as expansion of the tournament and the continuing Italian preference for catenaccio defence veer into being slightly annoying. Yet, this is a small complaint in an otherwise excellent book.
Overall, this is a must for all football fans, especially those who love the World Cup!
Glanville summarises each tournament succinctly and insightfully. His distaste for much of FIFA's practices is clear throughout, as are his somewhat curmudgeonly views on respective rule changes and the continued presence of penalty shoot outs as a mechanism to decide drawn matches. At times, this, and Glanville 's frustrations with other factors, such as expansion of the tournament and the continuing Italian preference for catenaccio defence veer into being slightly annoying. Yet, this is a small complaint in an otherwise excellent book.
Overall, this is a must for all football fans, especially those who love the World Cup!
January 2, 2024
An excellent book I first read on a transatlantic flight from New York to London, which took hours off the lengthy haul. The book brought me right up to date and provided a foundational knowledge of the world cup; its genesis, development, and its destiny. Glanville's writing style brought every tournament, particularly the early ones, to life for me.
As a black person, I had no problem with the the 'colour' references, which added to its considerable flavour, giving the black players, who have played a huge part in making the world cup the greatest sporting occasion of them all, the full recognition they deserved - although I agree that the word 'fulminating,' a nice word, was overused!
As a black person, I had no problem with the the 'colour' references, which added to its considerable flavour, giving the black players, who have played a huge part in making the world cup the greatest sporting occasion of them all, the full recognition they deserved - although I agree that the word 'fulminating,' a nice word, was overused!
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
July 2, 2020
This book is an absolute mess from start to finish. I wrote a full and in-depth review a few years back which can be found here.
March 3, 2014
Do you like football? Do you like adjectives? If you said yes to either (or ideally both) then this might just be the book for you.
The history of the World Cup (1930 until 2006, so possibly due for an update soon) presented on a tournament by tournament basis by highly regarded football journalist Brian Glanville, a man who has spent four decades covering football, in which time he has apparently also decided to use every adjective in the English language. No footballer can pass mention without having one of those descriptive so-and-sos appended to their name, even in the occasional cases where the player's full name doesn't actually appear in the text at any point. Tall, strong, brave, mercurial, bow-legged, they are all there.
The book has been written in installments over forty years, meaning some parts take on a different format to others. Unsurprisingly the very earliest tournaments are covered in less detail, but the stories are pulled through in all cases meaning there is more to this than just a series of match reports. Glanville's amusing abhorrence of the mere notion of penalty shootouts is entertaining even if a younger reader like me (more than fifty years younger than Glanville) can't see the fuss about something which has always been part of World Cups I can remember (1990 being the farthest back my memory goes). There are other, presumably time-related, quirks such as the strange obsession in the earlier parts of the book with highlighting exactly which players were black. It jars but only because it wouldn't be mentioned today, not because it's ever a negative thing.
I read this a tournament at a time, any more in one go would probably be an overload of information. By the end I was a bit disappointed that it didn't cover the 2010 as I wanted to know his take on it. That's probably a good sign, all told.
The history of the World Cup (1930 until 2006, so possibly due for an update soon) presented on a tournament by tournament basis by highly regarded football journalist Brian Glanville, a man who has spent four decades covering football, in which time he has apparently also decided to use every adjective in the English language. No footballer can pass mention without having one of those descriptive so-and-sos appended to their name, even in the occasional cases where the player's full name doesn't actually appear in the text at any point. Tall, strong, brave, mercurial, bow-legged, they are all there.
The book has been written in installments over forty years, meaning some parts take on a different format to others. Unsurprisingly the very earliest tournaments are covered in less detail, but the stories are pulled through in all cases meaning there is more to this than just a series of match reports. Glanville's amusing abhorrence of the mere notion of penalty shootouts is entertaining even if a younger reader like me (more than fifty years younger than Glanville) can't see the fuss about something which has always been part of World Cups I can remember (1990 being the farthest back my memory goes). There are other, presumably time-related, quirks such as the strange obsession in the earlier parts of the book with highlighting exactly which players were black. It jars but only because it wouldn't be mentioned today, not because it's ever a negative thing.
I read this a tournament at a time, any more in one go would probably be an overload of information. By the end I was a bit disappointed that it didn't cover the 2010 as I wanted to know his take on it. That's probably a good sign, all told.
June 7, 2012
My god, that was a chore to read. With a bit of effort I got the bare facts of what happened in each tournament but I had to struggle through the most irritating prose I have ever read.
Instead of building up narratives and recreating the dramas and thrills of the events as they progressed, Glanville has an annoying habit of lurching drunkenly from one point to another and then randomly back again. Probably the worst example of this lurching is in the last two pages, where he describes the final of the 2002 world cup, Ronaldo's wonderful and redemptive performance against Germany, the triumph of flair and brilliance in a tournament which sometimes lacked it... and then he wanders randomly back to how Japan went out in the second round and afterwards the coach wanted the French job but didn't get it and apparently he'd had a bad relationship with the Japanese press. This is how the book ends; not with the climax it could easily have had, but with some fiddling about with a bit of the story of the tournament which barely anyone cares about.
This sort of thing, together with the inexplicable way the first half of the book has the text organised under headings but then each of the later tournaments is just presented as a block of text, makes it seem like this is a draft version rather than the finished product. Maybe it was a rush to get it to print by a deadline, or maybe Glanville just couldn't be bothered to do a decent job.
If it had gone through another draft, I also think that any editor would probably have told him to cut down on his use of the word 'fulminating'. That's the sort of word that, when overused, really makes you sound like a sports journalist, rather than a real writer.
Instead of building up narratives and recreating the dramas and thrills of the events as they progressed, Glanville has an annoying habit of lurching drunkenly from one point to another and then randomly back again. Probably the worst example of this lurching is in the last two pages, where he describes the final of the 2002 world cup, Ronaldo's wonderful and redemptive performance against Germany, the triumph of flair and brilliance in a tournament which sometimes lacked it... and then he wanders randomly back to how Japan went out in the second round and afterwards the coach wanted the French job but didn't get it and apparently he'd had a bad relationship with the Japanese press. This is how the book ends; not with the climax it could easily have had, but with some fiddling about with a bit of the story of the tournament which barely anyone cares about.
This sort of thing, together with the inexplicable way the first half of the book has the text organised under headings but then each of the later tournaments is just presented as a block of text, makes it seem like this is a draft version rather than the finished product. Maybe it was a rush to get it to print by a deadline, or maybe Glanville just couldn't be bothered to do a decent job.
If it had gone through another draft, I also think that any editor would probably have told him to cut down on his use of the word 'fulminating'. That's the sort of word that, when overused, really makes you sound like a sports journalist, rather than a real writer.
January 25, 2015
This should be called The Story of the World Cup Finals as it does not really cover much about the qualifying tournament. I enjoyed the chapters from 1950-1994 but by the end it feels as though he's just going through the motions with the updated versions. I read 'The Essential Companion to South Africa 2010' and the 2002 & 2006 World Cups included disproportionately amount of text on matters regarding the then England manger Sven-Goran Eriksson...It bizarrely finished, as will this review, on sentence about the referee Graham Poll allowing Wayne Rooney to verbally abuse him at Highbury. As far as I'm aware, Highbury as never hosted a World Cup match...
September 12, 2015
Horridly written and reported.One gets an idea of the deep rooted malaise at FIFA but one ends up disliking the writer's rather irritating and condescending style in the process.People often consider longevity and durability to be the same;this mistaken perception seems to be held true of the stodgy old reporter that is Brain Glanville.
November 26, 2014
Brian Glanville is the grand old man of World Cup journalism. He has covered every World Cup since 1950. This is a great reference book. It isn't just about stats. It also has stories as well. Must have.
August 18, 2007
This book goes on and on about the history of the world cup. Since I needed a primer on soccer, I picked it up. I liked it, but definitely would like something similar in DVD format.
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September 9, 2010Click here to find it in the catalogue.
June 16, 2014
enjoyed it.
July 20, 2014
Interesting from a historical perspective, but very dry and assuming a degree of knowledge of football that's a bit intimidating to a newish fan.
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews