Check out some of the reviews here

There’s also Those Were The Games written with Richard Havers. It’s a celebration of superb football match reports on the great games of yesteryear – the glorious and famous, the fascinating and pivotal, all beautifully scribed by a host of terrific reporters.

There’s more info on a whole range of other books here

It’s a phenomenon that those who saw Glenn Hoddle in his playing prime will recognise. Hoddle was one of the best players of his generation – certainly in Britain, arguably in Europe and even beyond. He was a marvel. A player unlike any other in the old Football League, who utilised uncommon skill and imagination in a game burdened with players conspicuously lacking in both. The 1980s were a grim time for the English game in many respects, but Hoddle provided a regular, glorious glimmer of what the sport could provide.

I’m biased in taking that view. As a Tottenham fan I was lucky enough to see Hoddle play most weeks and privileged to see him in full flow. It’s why nearly 20 years on from when Hoddle hung up his boots Martin Cloake and I have made sure the King of White Hart Lane was one of the first people we featured in our ebooks series Spurs Shots, profiling the club’s best players.

The first in the series is on Danny Blanchflower, a true football original who was perhaps better acknowledged in his playing days than Hoddle was in his. That’s a running theme through the ebook and a reflection that this talent spurned was to English football’s enduring cost. A succession of managers, hindered by a cultural mistrust of flair and cowed by a fear of losing, failed to build the national side around Hoddle. Even after a decade of outstanding service at Spurs, he had to move on to France, a country where his talent was better understood and cherished.

There is much to celebrate about Hoddle. Martin and I hope readers will enjoy recalling Hoddle’s finest moments, from his man-of-the-match display in the 1981 FA Cup final to the succession of magnificent goals he scored.

We also believe that there’s a pertinent point to be made about modern football and Hoddle’s place in it. He was undervalued as a player, and mistakenly rejected as a manager. Amid the current agonising over the lack of quality and technique in English ranks from grassroots to top level, it’s a sobering reminder than when the nation did possess a player of genuine world-class talent it chose to marginalise him when it should have championed him. A great tactician, his managerial qualities are similarly spurned. And that really is a story of sad waste.

Glenn Hoddle – A Spurs Shot is available here

Danny Blanchflower – A Spurs Shot is available here

Any comments on the ebooks? Email us at adam@adampowley.com and martincloake@mac.com

The House of Commons is debating the issue as a result of an online campaign. Over 140,000 people signed an ‘e-petition’ calling for ‘full government disclosure and publication of all documents’ stemming from events that lead to the death of 96 fans. The government has indeed said there will be full disclosure, first to an independent panel set up to look at the archive, and then to the victims’ families themselves.

It is unclear exactly what will be disclosed, in cabinet papers relating to what the then Thatcher government was saying and what it was being told by the force responsible for crowd control on the day, South Yorkshire Police. It was this body that was held accountable for the ‘immediate cause’ of the disaster in the subsequent reports of Lord Justice Taylor, a conclusion not shared by the official inquest, whose procedures and findings angered so many of the bereaved.

The lingering official muddying of responsibility is one good reason why continuing debate is vital. The suspicion of some, whispered and perpetuated ever since, is that it was the supporters who were responsible. At best this takes the form of qualified sympathy: ‘No one deserved to die, but…’; at worst it results in the continuing falsehood that the blame lies entirely with Liverpool fans who were variously ‘drunk’, and/or without tickets, thus causing the horrific crush that resulted in so many needless deaths.

The latter view is part of a piece with the risible claim, peddled by Kelvin Mackenzie in an infamous report in The Sun based on information from unnamed police sources, that drunken fans attacked police, urinated on one, and picked the pockets of the dying. More than 20 years on Mackenzie still refuses to atone for a callous and vicious lie that still hurts. Yet it reflects a general view among many – too many – people that the fans were the ones to blame.

I’m still having this conversation with fellow supporters. Trying to convince them that the Liverpool fans were not responsible. That the loss of life was not a consequence of ‘hooligan’-style behaviour but corporate failure on the part of police, Sheffield Wednesday FC and the city council. That with effective management and properly-enforced safety procedures and facilities, the deaths could have been avoided.

Fans – ordinary, decent, peaceful fans – drew their last breath that day through no fault of their own. I remember how football crowds used to be treated back then and recognise that I was lucky not to suffer the same fate. Many, many times I have been involved in dangerous crushes, mostly caused by a lack of adequate crowd control. One time in particular I genuinely feared for my life, as a number of Merseyside police officers corralled hundreds of fans into a tiny space at Edge Hill railway station. Such was the weight of people being pushed and even truncheoned by officers who had lost control that a panic spread among the fans. I couldn’t breathe; a woman next to me fainted. Only the sudden opening of a gate onto the station platform relieved the pressure.

Who knows what might have happened had the gate not opened? No one can say the police deliberately wanted to cause distress, injury and even worse, but their mismanagement and loss of control nearly ended in horror. At Hillsborough in 1989, the consequences of such failures were laid bare.

And as a Spurs fan, I always bear in mind that it was supporters of my own club who nearly suffered the fate of the Liverpool supporters. In 1981, Tottenham played an FA Cup semi final at the same stadium and the same errors in crowd control were made. Packed in at the Leppings Lane end, the pressure building as more and more fans were forced into a space too small to contain them, that dreadful sense of powerlessness began to spread around the Spurs crowd. In the end, some were able to spill on to the pitchside perimeter, and disaster was averted. But only just.

That’s why when I hear criticism of Liverpool fans from other supporters I have to strongly disagree. I ask them to read the Taylor reports, the fans’ websites, or the excellent reportage of the likes of David Conn, Nick Varley and Brian Reade in their respective books that deal with the disaster. Don’t take my word for it – see what the people who were actually there experienced, and what subsequent investigations have revealed.

There’s a running joke about Liverpudlians having such an over-developed sense of victimhood that they open a book of condolence for when Liverpool lose a game. Among some fans who hold that view there is a strong element of anti-Scouser bias. But Hillsborough is no place for prejudice. People died because people in authority did not do their jobs. All fans should recognise that if they went to a match during that era, it was simply the luck of a twisted draw that they did not suffer a similar fate.

That’s why I earnestly hope that the truth about what really happened in 1989 finally comes out, and that those responsible are held to account. If only for the sake of the grieving families, and to remind all fans of whatever hue, that fellow supporters were not to blame. Rivalry has its place in football but the campaign for justice for the 96 is an issue that should unify all fans.

This blog also appears at http://www.iaindale.com/posts/its-time-for-the-truth-on-hillsborough

You can buy the book here; in the meantime I am grateful to Norman Giller, Fleet-Street great, sports historian, prolific author (90 books and counting), and boxing sage for the following kind words:

“I have hundreds of boxing books in my collection. This one matches any of them for content, design and nostalgia. I hate to use clichés, but this really is a knockout of a book that will keep boxing aficionados engrossed for hours. Author Adam Powley has added a compelling narrative, and the design team have given wonderful old photographs loving treatment that makes you almost feel and taste the era in which they were taken. If you know your boxing history, you will not be able to put the book down. If you don’t know your boxing history, this will educate, enlighten and entertain you. For me, the best of Adam’s When… series, and that is saying something, because his previous microscopic looks at the world of Football and Cricket are also must-reads for anybody who enjoys the history of sport.”

This match is no meaningless and intrusive friendly. There’s actual important stuff at stake. England need to win to maintain control of their group. Fabio Capello badly needs a victory as well to fend off his critics, and plenty of underperforming players need to produce good individual performances if they are to retain their places. But the level of disinterest in the fixture on the part of supporters is reaching the depths of apathy usually only seen in an election for Euro MPs. People just don’t seem to be that bothered any more.

I can’t say that for certain. There are probably upwards of 15 million bona fide football fans in Britain and plenty more with a passing interest in the fate of the national side. I haven’t spoken to every one of them to find out what they think, but judging by the comments of those I have, and what’s being said via social media, there’s barely anyone, even the most ardent England supporter, who is particularly animated by tonight’s match.

Some are hardcore club-before-country fans who have never given a fig for the national side. Others are actively giving it a miss due to some form of residual displeasure over what happened in South Africa last year. But most just seem to be bored with the whole thing.

It wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time the fate of the England side really mattered. The nation wouldn’t exactly grind to a halt for every match but there was a concerted and collective focus on what the team was getting up to. Up to 20 million, sometimes even more, would tune in to cheer and jeer them on.

Tonight’s viewing figures will be a small fraction of that. Partly because it’s on Sky, partly because – well, people have got better things to do. The relationship between England and English football fans has always been a complex and often fractured one but it now appears that the degree to which the England side has been marginalised is acute.

I’d suggest there are a number of reasons for this indifference. The lingering distaste for the antics of superstar footballers has tainted what good will there was (coloured by a resentment at how much these players earn and which club they play for), coupled with the vagaries of form that will always have an impact on how a team is viewed.

But the biggest factor in all this is the unstoppable rise of club football. The twin beasts of the Premier League and the Champions League have rendered the England football team an irrelevance – an awkward intrusion that mucks up the schedule and gets in the way of what is perceived as the really important stuff.

You only have to see the fevered reaction to the transfer window to see how the game has changed. Wild and reckless speculation about which club a player might move to has apparently become more interesting than if he gets picked to play for England or not. There’s now apparently live coverage of the conductor of Sky’s three-ring transfer circus, Jim White, arriving for work on ‘Deadline Day’. Football is truly eating itself.

A consequence is that international football as a whole has been consumed. Major tournaments have increasingly become shop windows for the big leagues around the world – a kind of beauty parade in which we can drool over some wonderkid from Argentina, not in the expectancy of what he’ll do for his country but which club he’ll get a transfer to. And as viewers we all know who this kid will be. There’s no mystery any more, thanks to saturation media coverage.

As for the media, it’s interesting to note that the national side still gets wall-to-wall coverage. That’s partly a practical thing: in the absence of domestic football there are pages and airtime to fill. But there’s a dogged, almost touching quality about the reams of words and comment on a subject that just isn’t as stimulating as it once was. I suspect that not many of us are reading or listening to it any more.

The irony about all this for England is that the Premier League was created for the specific benefit of the England national team. Back in the early 1990s, the idea was that the side would be at the apex of a new pyramid structure. Everything about football, from amateur grassroots to the professional top flight was to play its part in improving the prospects of the national team.

As we have seen with the almost comical displays of that side in the present, such hope has been a forlorn one, to the extent that many don’t even care any more. What’s that old adage about the time to really worry is when you’re ignored? It seems the Three Lions may have reached that point.

In case you haven’t seen it, football’s Public Enemy Number 1 is at it again. The perpetually stroppy tyro attempted to score and failed with a backheel in a pre-season friendly match against LA Galaxy. This apparently enraged his manager, Roberto Mancini, who promptly subbed him and then engaged in a touchline row with the player as he stalked off to the changing rooms.

Judging by some reactions this is an unmitigated day of shame for the sport and emblematic of how it has lost its way. The words ‘lost moral compass’ will no doubt crop up at some point. But hang on a second – let’s look at the context again. A pre-season friendly. Against LA Galaxy. A friendly; against LA Galaxy?

Of all the ironies. If anything Balotelli has done the game a service, exposing its ludicrous self importance and the mockery of the pre-season friendly freakshow. The game had very little to do with football. It was part of City’s brand building exercise in North America, played against a recently formed franchise that is currently playing host to David Beckham as he winds down his career. The whole laughable show can’t be taken seriously, let alone Balotelli’s antics.

Ah, but what about the fans who paid good money to see the game? Well to be blunt, more fool them if they took it at all seriously. Once upon a time, pre-season friendlies were viewed for what they are – lazy runouts in the fag end of summer, with a few fans turning up, perhaps to see a new signing for the first time but more likely to watch the teams go through the motions.

Nowadays pre-season friendlies are commercial enterprises, all about opening up new markets and ‘pushing the brand’. Soaked in sponsorship, fancied up with phoney tournament names and endlessly pored over with exhaustive television coverage, they are symbols of modern football’s bloated status and insatiable greed. In other words, it’s not really about the football. So why so much fuss about a piece of play entirely in keeping with the ridiculousness of it all?

Balotelli can frustrate, and may even be a bit of an idiot at times. I don’t know. I’ve never met him, so cant say what he is really like as an individual, But I know that one flippant back heel does not make him a pantomime villain some seem so keen to cast him as.

It’s not an individual, a date from history, or an exercise in preening national vanity. It is, of all, things, an institution. And it’s one I want to make sure is protected and improved.

The National Health Service is something to be genuinely proud of. It’s at times when you really need it that you are reminded what a wonderful organisation it really is. And as a parent, rarely can I have felt a more acute need when it’s my own child who is in need of urgent medical attention.

I’m not one for parading every detail of my family’s life for all to gawp at over the internet, but in this instance I feel some reference is relevant. A few weeks ago, the NHS stepped in to preserve the health of our four-year-old daughter. If that sounds a mite melodramatic, it should be noted that she was suffering from a ruptured appendix.

This curious evolutionary relic had made her very ill and was threatening worse. Had her condition not been spotted by a brilliant and attentive GP, had she not been rushed to a modern, superbly equipped local children’s hospital, staffed by equally brilliant people who knew their job and rushed her into theatre – well, it doesn’t really bear thinking about.

She’s now home and recovering well and for that, we are in debt to the NHS. I was all set to write about this particular experience when medical matters intervened once more. Shortly after her return home I was the one left feeling groggy as I came round from a general anaesthetic. I’d been taken into the same hospital complex for an emergency op on my eye, due to a detached retina.

Once again the NHS stepped in saved the day; without wishing to sound too melodramatic, they saved my sight. Prompt diagnosis, swift action and the best possible surgery and post-op care enabled me to soon be back at home feeling slightly bewildered by it all but once again immensely grateful. It hurts like hell, I can’t see properly and outpatient appointment and care is required for the foreseeable future, but yet again the NHS came to our rescue.

As a family we’re lucky. Fortunate that we have such dedicated professionals working in our area and privileged that the state-of-the-art facilities are within easy reach.  Most of all we’re fortunate that we live in a society that places a value on the care and well being of everyone, wherever they live, regardless of their ability to pay at the point of delivery.

At least we do for now. The proposed reforms to the NHS are a threat to its essential purpose. Note that sly use of the progressive sounding ‘reform’ rather than the more honest and regressive ‘cutback’ in public-sector provision. Because that is what it means: throwing a publicly funded service open to the free market to a greater extent than before, placing a premium on quality of care and, that dread phrase, applying ‘market forces’.

This isn’t new – New Labour was similarly culpable in its messing with the basic principles of the NHS, and the whole service was indeed founded as a compromise. Neither should it be claimed that funding and managing such a huge and often unwieldy body as the NHS is easy. But the current plans put the service in real jeopardy.

The NHS has been good, by and large, to my family, my friends and their families. Succeeding generations have been brought into the world, and some have left it via the NHS as well. In the interim many of us have been treated for various illnesses and ailments of varying seriousness – not always with the best outcomes. To suggest the NHS is perfect is a plain wrong. It does require genuine reform, together with new investment and support. Where there is proven waste, poor service, and needless bureaucracy that has a real impact on care, by all means changes for the better should be made. But not with this half-baked handover to those with an eye on profit at the expense of the taxpayer.

I spoke recently to a health professional who had to lay off 50 staff as part of a cost-cutting measure. She said she had gone into the service to provide care and make people better, not to make people redundant. Worse, there’s more to come. At a time when those must vulnerable in our society deserve public service as a fundamental right, the corporate carve up threatens the basic principle of universal healthcare.

To return to my own experience, it’s worth considering what the prospects for my family would be if we had to use a private insurance scheme on American lines. I wonder how my daughter’s premiums would be affected in adulthood with a cross marked ‘had an operation’ on her application form? Would I be able to get adequate cover given the ‘history’ my eye op now entails? Supporters of the government plan would no doubt say I’m scaremongering – but Andrew Lansley’s plans are the thin end of a wedge that could quite feasibly thicken and raise the spectre of a situation where decent medical care is reserved for those who can afford it.

Who loves the NHS? I do. It’s not perfect, it can frequently frustrate and occasionally enrage. But it’s something to be properly proud of – and we all lose it at our peril.