When Don Mullan writes, people are captivated. Having negotiated his teenage years around 'The Troubles' in Northern Ireland, his work as an author has brought the atrocities of the bitter Anglo-Irish conflict to wider public commiseration. Published in 1997, Mullan's best-seller Eyewitness Bloody Sunday is widely renowned as the primary catalyst for the inquiry that still entwines our legal system today.
The same case has now become the most expensive in British court history, testament to the vivid portrayal that Mullan managed to forge out of the gory chaos of his memories. Rather than political waves, however, his latest offering is governed by his recollection of incredible saves.
The Boy Who Wanted to Fly charts the way that Mullan's turbulent upbringing was stabilised by staunch worship of Gordon Banks. An unlikely idol for an Irish boy growing up in Derry, a region severely oppressed by the British Army during the seventies and eighties, Banks of England is presented throughout as a shining light.
In the words of the wonderful foreword compiled by Archbishop Desmond Tutu and Pel, sport should be about "helping people to become better, more healthy and caring citizens." Helped by the calming influence of Banks, the original gentleman competitor, this is a mantra that Mullan never loses sight of.
Numerous shifts in perspective take place throughout the narrative, such that the end result mirrors the author's immense 500-page scrapbook that develops over the course of the story. The speaker's voices as an under-13 shot-stopper himself, as an avid spectator during the 1970 World Cup and as a journalist are all heard in equal measure.
Mullan transports us to the scorching heat of Guadalajara in Mexico, where the iconic save from a header by Pel took place, just as easily as he paints the jubilant picture of Stoke City's League Cup triumph in 1972. For each moment of Banks' magnificence though, there are horrible reminders of omnipresent tragedy that runs unavoidably alongside life in a war-torn state.
With flashes of sporting glory imbedded within the harshest context imaginable, The Boy Who Wanted to Fly is a wonderful book that manages to strip football down to the innocent state it started out as, with Banks a superb ambassador.
The most touching episode is reserved for the finale, an account of a 49 year-old man accompanying his 14 year-old son to meet Banks. When Mullan admits that "tears were inevitable" upon encountering his hero back in 2005, there is no danger of his fragile emotional state alienating anyone. Each reader has been alongside him on the rollercoaster.
For your chance to win a copy of The Boy Who Wanted to Fly, check out our competition here.
