Book review: Pat Nevin is still weaving his way into life's penalty area
Pat Nevin: Obviously gifted (10,000 keepie-uppies at the age of eight), he came to the attention of scouts at an early stage, yet he never intended to become a professional footballer. And he almost didn’t. Picture: Getty Images
Pat Nevin knew how to skin a full-back and he also knows his tunes. Witness his recent interview with online music bible The Quietus, in which he found room in his Baker's Dozen of favourite records for young Galway outfit NewDad. "I heard this single about three weeks ago and I cannot get through half a day without listening to it," he swooned, referring to the fuzzy dream pop of I Don't Recognise You. "Cannot. Impossible. The words, beautiful, the song, beautiful, I might not love any of their songs again, but I suspect I will."
It's a far cry from the days when every footballer's favourite musician was Phil Collins, but then a passion for leftfield music is as synonymous with Nevin as images of him jinking down the wing at a mid-eighties Stamford Bridge (complete with parked car near the corner flag), and his urbane and sometimes irreverent observations on football on the airwaves, including Newstalk. And now here is the autobiography, entirely self-penned in a furious burst, and immensely readable, a book which comes at the beautiful game from a novel angle: wanting to play football without being 'a footballer'. As he puts it: "I didn’t want anything spoiling my love of playing".
