THE AUTHOR

 

Alan Porteous is an ageing football fan who has seen more miserable, rain-soaked nil-nil draws than possibly anyone else on the planet. When a decent goal does hit the back of the net Alan invariably is at the toilet, looking the other way, answering a text, or staring into the middle-distance contemplating whether it’s all really worth it. 

 

A perverse sense of duty has him routing for the underdog in almost every circumstance, and while he delights in telling everyone ‘it’s all character building’, he frequently spends Saturday evenings sitting in a darkened room twitching, and eyeing up the bottle of painkillers on the nearby table.

 

Unlike most authors, Alan doesn’t live at home in Maine, New England with his wife and four golden retrievers, he doesn’t like long walks in the countryside and he doesn’t even own a beige, chunky-knit cardigan let alone wear one where someone might see him.