Nick Hornby

And after tea, we play Junior Scrabble. We are the ideal nuclear family. We eat together, we play improving board games instead of watching television, we smile alot. I fear that at any moment I may kill somebody.

What if a sense of humour is like hair — something a lot of man lose as they get older?

I’ve been thinking with my guts since I was fourteen years old, and, frankly, I think my guts have shit for brains.

Then I lost it. Kinda lost it all, you know. Faith, dignity, about fifteen pounds.

But I'd felt as if I'd pissed my life away in the same way that you can piss money away. I'd had a life, full of kids and wives and jobs and all the usual stuff, and I'd somehow managed to mislay it. No, you see, that's not right. I knew where my life was, just as you know where the money goes when you piss it away. I hadn't mislaid it at all. I'd spent it.

By the early seventies I had become an Englishman — that is to say, I hated England just as much as half my compatriots seemed to do.

I fell in love with football as I was later to fall in love with women: suddenly, inexplicably, uncritically, giving no thought to the pain or disruption it would bring with it.

As I get older, the tyranny that football exerts over my life, and therefore over the lives of the people around me, is less reasonable and less attractive.