Books | Drumsagart Thistle, Nick Hornby and the literary imagination

Fever Pitch seems to be taking the rap for all sorts of contradictory effects. It has turned us into morons at the same time as it has intellectualized football; even more confusingly, it is to blame both for the gentrification of the game and for the return of yob culture. … Now, I’m quite prepared to believe that I’m guilty of something. But I’m not prepared to believe that Fever Pitch has somehow managed to produce a mutant strain of Guardian-reading, lager-swilling, Kierkegaard-quoting, Gaultier-wearing hooligans, the bastard children of Sarah Dunant and Paul Gascoigne, simply because I have serious doubts about whether such a strain really exists. So what exactly is Fever Pitch responsible for? (“Pitch Battle,” WSC 103)

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