“Knowing Christ is the best thing that has ever happened to me, although winning the US Open was a pretty good second.”
Lions triumphant
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Sam Warburton, London, Simon and Schuster, 2013. ISBN 978-1-47111-311-6
When Bernhard Langer was invited to add a chapter to his autobiography on his experience as Ryder Cup Captain, he declined, saying that he felt that the secrets of the event should remain just that. (I know as I was the writer of the autobiography).
I feel that Sam Warburton would have been well advised to follow Langer’s example. The book reveals no secrets and is therefore bland in the extreme. This is not surprising as Warburton is in the midst of his career and cannot afford to make enemies of team-mates and coaches.
As a result there are no controversial statements whatever! Typical of the book is his statement of the virtues of Tom Croft, after which he is quick to add “but in praising Crofty that is in no way denigrating Dan [Lydiate]”. The reader will however learn the nickname of every player!
The story of how Warburton learned he was to be captain, his struggle with keeping the secret and then hiding in the hotel the day of announcement is as good as it gets with regard to exclusive revelations. Apart from the revelation that his parents were proud of him. “I had a nice private meal with Rachel [fiancée]and my mum and dad. And they all told me how proud they were of me”.
Throughout the book I felt I was reading the words of the ghost-writer more than the words of the player. There were lots of quotes and press releases quoted in full, which seemed like padding.
Two examples of the bland were that statement: “I met Andy, who was out in Australia, on the Friday”. I don’t know about you, but as I knew Warburton was in Australia, I think I could have worked out that Andy must have been in Australia too!
One sentence which had me thinking was the following in the context of players' drinking. “Do you think Jess Ennis would drink less than a week before her eight hundred metres event?” Couldn’t work out whether the writer thinks Jess Ennis is an 800 metre runner or if he is trying to make a really clever point about the 800 metres being the final heptathlon event.
A disappointing book.