Damn fine job getting into mind of Ol’ big ‘ed

IF you’ve just unearthed that Christmas book token from down the back of the sofa, here’s a sure-fire way to turn it into literary gold: pop around to your local bookstore and exchange it for a copy of “The Damned United” (Faber).

Then brace yourself and settle in for a few nights of agony and agony and (just a little bit of) ecstasy, as you journey deep into the psyche of the one and only Brian Howard Clough. Yes, it’s a football book, Jim, but not as we know it. And it’s absolutely astounding.

David Peace’s novel, published late last year, has grown into a word of mouth cult hit. I had already been assured of its brilliance by more than one reader when an old buddy almost levitated with sheer passionate enthusiasm as he detailed the book’s merits. “It’s Shakespeare,” he declared. “It’s Hamlet, it’s Lear, it’s Macbeth...” Now, admittedly, he had a few jars on board and, admittedly, he tends to talk like this all the time about Shamrock Rovers but, by the same token, I couldn’t recall hearing anyone waxing quite so eloquent about, say, Ashley Cole’s autobiography.