In his closing pages, Chris Evans delivers his verdict on his subject:
That’s what Gary Lineker is: human. As his story shows, it’s possible to accomplish seemingly impossible things while staying grounded and true to your roots.
I hate to be cruel about a diligently researched book by a freelance journalist. But unthinking writing cannot capture a man who managed to think himself into two great careers, first as a footballer and then as a TV presenter.
Lineker was born in Leicester in 1960. His parents were market traders who worked brutal hours, then relaxed over card games that could run all weekend, with participants (including the local crooner Engelbert Humperdinck) taking turns to retire for naps. As a teenager, he was possibly a better cricketer than footballer, as well as a mean snooker player and Leicestershire schools’ champion in the 400 metres. He was drawn to journalism from childhood. After watching Leicester City play he’d go home and write his own match reports.
He took a while to establish himself in City’s first team, and then rise to bigger clubs, because he was neither exceptionally skilful nor hardworking. One later teammate told Evans:
His normal week was, on Monday he had a bath, Tuesday he had a walk around, Wednesday he had off, Thursday he might train, Friday he had a bath, and Saturday he usually scored a hat-trick.
Lineker’s only assets were pace and intelligence. He worked out how to score goals.
Evans appears to have written this book without access to his subject. But Lineker is an approachable figure who has explained his methods to other writers.
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