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271 pages, Hardcover
First published August 1, 2022
'I can trace the lines now, join the dots between what happens out there on the giant stadium stages of the Premier League and the plastic posts fastened into grass playing fields in South London, realise that those early Saturday mornings—were always about more than ourselves, more than what was, more than we could see, that the greater was somehow at work—We are all threads of something or someone else.'
'I still remember Hilly Fields. I still remember South London—Hilly Fields was where I played my first game—Ian Wright played these fields in the late sixties too, before Palace, before Arsenal and England, before 179 Just Done It and his jersey pulled over his face at Highbury. ‘I never lost a game playing in Hilly Fields,’ he once said. ‘Never lost a game.’
Footballers are symbols, their existence on the public stage an illustration of shifting social and economic dynamics, of immigration and new communities that have taken root. I was born during a time when Lewisham and South London had been imposing their will on British football. The early nineties, a time when David Rocastle had come out of the Honor Oak Estate in Brockley, and Ian Wright had come with him.
African immigrants began to settle en masse in South London from the eighties. My parents drifted in from Nigeria and Cameroon, as did my godparents, and my brother’s godparents too. When I arrived at Lewisham Hospital in the summer of ’92, and still when I became aware of football a few years later, Wright was centre stage. Fathers like mine, strangers in a new country who were fluent in football’s universal tongue.
I think about how Nketiah, like so many others, is the sum of community parts: coaches and part-time staff, immigrant parents and professional footballers, pulling and turning in South London for generations, paving the road Eddie would walk from Lewisham to the Premier League.
Rio Ferdinand saw a family friend of ours running late for school on a cold morning, stopped his car and drove him to the school gates; Rio Ferdinand spotted in a pie & mash shop on a local high street; the Wright-Phillips brothers Shaun and Bradley driving past my godbrother’s old house in Crofton Park.'
'Football occupies many roles. For fans, it can be the lifeblood of friendships and the common bond between strangers. It is often the source of fond memories—a staple fixture in a weekly calendar. Football is an institution. Football is a religion. This analogy may sound extreme, but it isn’t all that far-fetched. There are governing bodies, denominations, acts of worship, days of observance—there are even hymns. But, as with any religion, the purity of its core is easily corrupted by its leaders and devotees alike. As a result, capitalistic exploitation, toxic masculinity and white supremacy have sullied the game since its inception.'
'Avid football fans tend to become aware of talented young players long before they make their first-team debuts, via YouTube compilations set to EDM, youth tournaments, or the short clips that proliferate—These fans scrutinise the players’ games closely, analysing these young footballers as footballers. Conversely, for more casual watchers footballers tend to come to their attention via the classist and racist narratives propagated by the right-wing mainstream media. This latter lens, by far the more culturally dominant, delineates a now-familiar cycle of emergence, vilification, and re-vilification of rising Black players by the press.'
'(Ian Wright) It just upset the right kind of person, when I let them know how much I loved England. Yes, my heritage is Jamaica, but I’m England. People for some reason can’t put it together that you’re Black and English, proud to be English as well. Why wouldn’t I be proud to be English? I was born in this country. It’s given me a lot of opportunities. It’s given me a lot of hard times and stress. But this is where I was born—If you look at the current English football side, and you look at the white guys involved in it—Jack Grealish, Declan Rice, James Maddison—they are so in with the Black culture. I would love England, especially in these times, with the amount of mixed-race and Black players involved with England now. Nothing would make me happier than England winning something with this generation. There’s not a better generation to represent England.'
'It’s often remarked that footballers die twice—once when they retire and again when they actually pass. The same can also be said of their birth: players are born first into the world, and then they come into our world.'