Beckham : My World

• Type: Hardback, 224 pages
• Pressing: UK, 2000
• Price: £16.99

And now, ladies and gentlemen…the David Beckham autobiography. My World is a book of two halves, quite literally. The final 130 pages of this tome are filled with professional portraits by Dean Freeman. Plenty of females (and no doubt some males too) will drool over the quite beautifully-shot photos of the man in action, at home, with his kids and, heck, even washing the car. Everyone else will label them (and Beckham) narcissistic. He can’t win. Except on the football pitch, of course.

Endless column inches and screen time have been expended upon the phenomenon that is David Beckham. The gifted Manchester United and England midfielder, and lest anyone forget to remid us – Mr Posh Spice, is feted for his supreme talents as much as he is slated for a whole catalogue of ongoing misdemeanours…most of them laughably undeserving of the vitriol they engender.

Just four short years ago, Beckham was the emerging English football messiah – a fresh-faced, confident and brilliant player with the world at his feet. Subsequent events – from the infamous sending-off at the 1998 World Cup, to his marriage to a Spice Girl and the birth of their son Brooklyn – have seen David Beckham become an outwardly tougher, less ebullient character.

Behind that exterior – compounded by the shaven-headed look and frequent on-field snarling – it would appear he hasn’t changed as much it would appear. While there are a few times in My World where you find yourself saying “oh, don’t whinge so much, David!” and several others where you wish for his own sake he wouldn’t be quite so candid (any savvy detractors will find yet more ammunition here, although they ought to know better themselves as well).

My World focuses on Beckham’s life now, though a couple of brief chapters scan the outlines of a fairly unremarkable, but stable, childhood. Beckham was, and still is, football crazy. To his eternal credit, he hasn’t enlisted some spurious hack to help him write the 100 pages of conversational-style text, and he comes across as honest, if not exactly an intellectual giant, throughout.

Much of the book is as you might expect. He loves Man United and always wanted to play for them, he adores his wife and baby son, he couldn’t believe the fuss his red-card in the World Cup created, and winning the Treble in 1999 was the highpoint of his career to date. Hardly earth-shattering, but it’s nonetheless refreshing to be presented with it in the man’s own words (with a little assistance, though the fact is only revealed in the very small print among the backpage credits). He’s due the chance to put his side of events on record.

The one area where the story sparks into life is his recollections of the England managerial reign of Glenn Hoddle, and his opinions on how he personally felt betrayed by Hoddle’s actions and attitudes during that ill-fated World Cup campiagn. He also reveals the extent of dressing-room unrest running through the entire national squad after Hoddle’s controversial diaries were published. According to Becks, Hoddle lost everyone’s respect there and then, and the manager’s days were numbered from that point onwards.

A note of unease filters through in Beckham’s revelation that he keeps a little black book in which he writes the names of those he feels have done him wrong, so that he can exact revenge on them at some unexpected time in the future. Then again, it’s perhaps not entirely surprising based on his retribution-seeking retaliations when playing football.

His cynicism and bitterness is mostly justified, possibly even wholly so, as few players past or present have endured such hateful and personal abuse, yet there is so much in his life to be grateful for and to cherish. It’s a fact he readily acknowledges, but it seems that despite his better judgement he just can’t ignore the niggles and criticism from fools who do so out of envy and jealousy.

They’re losers, David. Leave them behind. You have a level of success and happiness everyone would want in life.

So, with its emphasis on visuals, My World is perhaps not essential reading for all, but for curious souls and his multitude of admirers it’s a stylish, genuine snapshot of a man in the prime of his life and career. You got a problem with that?