C is for coaches. Foul and Fair, on one level, is about football coaches; it’s about Kieran and James, about the clash of two footballing philosophies, the desire to win versus the importance of giving everyone the chance to play. After seven years running a team for West Moors YFC, I now divide my working day between writing and going into local primary schools as a football coach. It’s an unusual combination of jobs, but they go together very well. Writing is, by its nature, a solitary and sedentary activity; coaching is much more sociable and more energetic. I enjoy the contrast between the two, giving me the best of both worlds.

Becoming a volunteer football coach was one of the best decisions I ever made. A few years ago I experienced a lengthy period of depression, and the relationships I built with my West Moors team was a major force for good in bringing me through the tail end of that time. There were difficult moments, of course, but I lost count of the number of times I would turn up to training after a difficult day, only to head for home a couple of hours later absolutely buzzing. I’ve often said that I wouldn’t have swapped my side for any of the more successful teams in our league, and I stand by that. When I say that I got more out of our sessions than any of the players, I genuinely mean it (and not just as a comment on how bad a coach I was!). There were elements of the role which were a strain on my mental health – mostly concerning certain parents or rival coaches – but overall, my time on the touchline was hugely beneficial for me. When our team came to an end, I had some lovely messages from individual players and parents reflecting on the time we all spent together, and I still look back on that time very fondly.

There are parallels between coaching and writing. Part of the process of planning a training session is to make sure that every aspect of what happens works towards the overall objective of the session. Each activity, from arrival to the end, should play a part in helping the players to improve on whatever it is that we’re focusing on. Writing a book is similar, with every sentence having a purpose as part of the bigger whole. Tiny details matter, whether that be in establishing character, setting a particular mood, or dropping clues and hints – or red herrings – about things yet to be revealed. There’s also the fact that, ultimately, you are doing what you are doing for the benefit of someone else. My training sessions were aimed at helping my players to improve and to enjoy their football; my books are aimed at giving enjoyment to my readers. Paradoxically, it’s the fact that both coaching and writing are fundamentally for the benefit of others that makes each of them so satisfying and so self-fulfilling.