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by Ossie Ardiles
Bantam Press, £18.99
Reviewed by Adam Powley
From WSC 275 January 2010

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There’s a telling description of Ossie Ardiles that the World Cup winner recounts early on in this suitably idiosyncratic book. His unnamed former manager at Huracán joked: “You know what number you should be wearing? You should be wearing a question mark on your back!” Difficult to tackle on the pitch, Ardiles is similarly elusive to pin down on the page. His intelligence and insight is obvious but the reader is left with only a partial portrait.

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Jon Spurling braces himself for a festive football hangover

Along with communal baths, a crafty drag on a cigarette in the toilets, and swigging a bottle of brown ale with the lads, Christmas parties are entwined in the fabric of English football. “The players have talked of little else for weeks,” confided Ian Rush – dressed in Beefeater garb for Liverpool’s bash – to a BBC reporter in 1992. “All the lads have made the effort to dress up,” added Rushie, as Bruce “The Joker” Grobbelaar and John “Dick Turpin” Barnes  staggered past clutching empty Grolsch bottles. Despite the cameraman’s best efforts, viewers also saw David Burrows – clad as an SS officer – flicking sieg heil salutes, at a time when Israel striker Ronnie Rosenthal was with the club. The whole interview encapsulated perfectly many of the idiosyncrasies of English football: heavy boozing and distasteful pranks were acceptable if they helped forge team spirit.

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Dunga played for two of Brazil’s dullest coaches and is now following in their footsteps – but none the less his team conquered the opposition to win another Copa América. Rodrigo Orihuela reports

Were it not for Sebastião Lazaroni, Carlos Alberto Parreira would surely be remembered as Brazil’s most defensive coach ever. Parreira’s 1994 World Cup-winning side were the antithesis of stereotypical Brazilian jogo bonito, but managed to lift a major trophy.

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In the dying days of George Graham’s Arsenal reign, the Scot signed a player as far from his own image as imaginable. Jon Spurling remembers a Dutch enigma

As fortysomethings waxed lyrical about Geordie Armstrong’s “magnificent engine” and Brian Marwood was voted the club’s greatest ever short-term acquisition, debate raged among Arsenal fans on a website over who was the club’s greatest recent wide player. Anders Limpar – rather harshly – was described as a “poor man’s Robert Pires”. So what, I wondered, did that make Glenn Helder. A ­destitute’s Marc Overmars, perhaps?

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Cameron Carter observes how Mark Lawrenson is slowly veering away from what he's put there to be – a pundit

John Helm must have done something quite bad, but not dreadful, in a previous life. Perhaps he murdered a cow or was a slum landlord with only one slum. Whatever it was, in his current incarnation he has been forced to eternally comment on the UEFA Cup on Five. Because of his lack of options, Helm can’t make like Alan Green if the action’s a bit slow and tell everyone how bored he is; instead he must remain upbeat at his vigil and keep his and everyone else’s spirits up. As Newcastle toiled away against Ventspils of Latvia, many of us were reaching for the off switch and resignedly contemplating housework. Helm sensed this. “It’s an interesting game,” he pleaded, “without goals.” A slight pause. “Eleven minutes to the break,” he went on, in the preoccupied tone of a man who was calculating that in seconds.

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