Unfortunately, It's All Too Elementary My Dear Watson

Regular readers of my blog, Slushpile.net, know that I'm a bit of a soccer fanatic. And since I've been known to read a book now and then, I often try to combine my obsessions.

The problem is that I find far too many sports biographies incredibly basic and entirely too elementary. I don't know if it's because they want to keep them accessible for younger readers, or if they accept the stereotypes of sports fans. But although you'll find some fine books about sports, the biographies and memoirs of athletes are often embarrassingly poorly written.

Take this passage from the autobiography of a major British soccer star. No, not that British soccer stud; he actually has some decent books. But in this passage, I don't know whether to cringe or to applaud the athlete for actually being brave enough to eschew the use of a ghostwriter.

"The main difference between English and foreign players is the sense of humour. If you get up to a prank with someone's toothbrush in the team hotel, a lot of foreign players just won't find that funny. But I'm laughing even as I say this. In my early days Steve Harkness was the biggest prankster. Didi Hamann has an Englishman's sense of humour, but apart from him I've yet to meet one overseas player who laughs at the things we do. In training, if you make a silly mistake the English lads will laugh their heads off, whereas the foreign lads are much more serious in their approach. They are all good guys so I'm not trying to label them in any way. I'm just trying to highlight the difference between the two cultures. I can remember Robbie Fowler getting thrown into a puddle and covered in mud at countless training sessions. They were just harmless, laddish things. I'm not saying it was better or worse, just different. The trick, I think, is to strike a balance. It's scientifically proven that alcohol is not good for you too close to a game. But then, our occasional nights out helped us to develop such a strong team spirit. We would have died for one another."

We go from the different senses of humor, not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you, wouldn't want to offend anyone, to alcohol and dying for one another. I appreciate this particular player's game and the way he lives his life, but this passage just seems like a Comp 101 paper to me.

Unfortunately, too many sports autobiographies are like this. But ironically enough, as I lamented the lack of literary athletes, I learned that one of the most famous authors of all time spent a bit of time on a professional soccer pitch. Or, did he really?

A television show over the weekend reported that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was the goalkeeper for Portsmouth Football Club, a team currently standing at #4 in the Barclay's Premiership league in England. But the history page on the club's website doesn't mention Sherlock Holmes's creator at all. And the Doyle entry on Wikipedia states, "While living in Southsea he helped form Portsmouth AFC, the city's first football club. Common myth holds that Doyle played as Portsmouth F.C.'s first goalkeeper; however, Doyle played for an amateur side that disbanded in 1894 and had no connection to the Portsmouth F.C. of today which was not formed until 1898."

So the mystery continues. Although I must admit that the thought of Doyle springing off his line to stop a penalty kick is an appealing one. And the addition of his literary skill to the sports autobiography cannon would be an appreciated one.