Oh god, what a joyous, near-pornographic treat for football nerds.
The Mixer really is just 400 pages about things like the difference between 4-3-3 and 4-2-3-1, and why inverted wingers can lead to midfield congestion. By rights, this book should be quite boring.
Cox makes it interesting by spinning the whole thing into a narrative that's gripping all the way through. The basic plot is that post-Heysel British football decided in 1992 to reinvent itself, with money from Rupert Murdoch and driven by the greatest manager in the history of British football, Alex Ferguson.
Football back in '92 was all about strength and passion. Nobody wanted to overthink the game, not the fans, not the media, and certainly not the players, who were still showing up to training sessions with hangovers. The last thing anyone wanted to do was to import fancy ideas like "tactics" from Europe. None of those short, clever passes, no building from the back, just stick it in the fahkin mixer.
Ferguson, who really is the most important figure in the history of English football, had other ideas and started to introduce new concepts, like getting Eric Cantona to play between the lines in a number 10 role (something that was decidedly foreign in the early 90s). Eventually, Number 10s became standard, with other teams bringing in players like Zola and Bergkamp, and the game became subtly more Europeanised.
Ferguson really is the heart of the whole story, the wiley old git constantly finding new ways to reinvent his team, and the rest of the league scrambling to keep up. After winning the treble with a very traditional 4-4-2, he experimented with 4-5-1, 4-3-3, inverted wingers, false 9s and basically whatever tactic that had recently defeated him in Europe.
He himself was locked in a kind of Sisyphusean tragedy, where he is utterly dominant at home but always a step behind the innovators of Europe. He won two Champions Leagues, sure, but both by the skin of his teeth. United never dominated a final, never absolutely battered their opponent, never proved Ferguson to be Europe's greatest tactician.
But he did keep trying, and his mad experiments forced the other teams in the league to adapt or get relegated. Game by game, the Premier league learned to stop lumping long balls up to a target man, and learned how to play football.
United's endless revolution dominated the Premiership until he retired, so almost every other team is relegated to a subplot in this book, but there are some crackers: a ruthless post-mortem of Keegan's Newcastle failure, the many moods of Brendan Rogers, the rise and fall of Pulisball, how Ruud Gullit failed to convince anyone that his ideal role was centre back, and why Makelele is the most important player of this century.
The Mixer connects all of these plots, making them all seem like a logical consequence of what went before. It adds up to single, epic story, spanning 25 years, 47 teams, 10,000 games, 25,000 goals, epic tactical battles, wet windy nights in Stoke, and the possibility this might finally be Liverpool's year.
By rights, the story should taper off with Ferg's retirement, but that was only the prelude to the maddest event in the history of all sport, Leicester's 2016 title win. Football. Bloody hell.