Welcome though it was for football to finally find a foothold in acceptable society, the explosion of football literature proceeding the publication of Fever Pitch had little to do with Hornby's 'classic'.

Anyone worth their literary salt in the footballing community, would point to the fanzine phenomenon as the chrysalis to football's literati 'coming out'.

National fanzines, like When Saturday Comes, were hitting the streets half a decade before Hornby put pen to paper and fans had been penning individual independent fans' publications a good few years previously.

If Fever Pitch is to be charged with launching anything, it can be blamed for launching a million prawn sandwich-eating locusts on the game.

By creating an acceptable chic, Hornby is perhaps guilty of fashioning the nineties middle-class culture that has gripped and appalled the nation in equal measure.

That said, Hornby gave us something that, although threatening to transpire for some time previously, had never actually been conceived: a good football novel. Novel, that is, in the literal sense rather than as a fictional vehicle.

The story of his love and devotion to Arsenal above all else is poignant in places, touching in others, but manages to purvey a general sense of joy in the misery of it all. Which is unfortunate considering the phenomenal success the club managed to achieve during Hornby's lifetime.

But what comes out most of all is that while Hornby is lauded as giving us the most accurate portrayal of fandom ever in print, he is not actually a fan himself. As the book progresses from his first steps to Highbury with his father, through teenage experiences on the terraces, to taking girls with him to matches, it becomes patently clear that Hornby was using the football as a crutch to rest his self-serving emotions on.

Indeed, when he takes his teacher girlfriend to a match, he finds himself agreeing with her take on celebrating a goal. To her, the knee-jerk reaction of standing up when a goal is scored is amusing!

Football becomes a passage of youth; a place where the young men are allowed to reach orgasm without the help of girls - that when the fairer sex take an interest the football takes a back seat.

Hornby shows us a little more; Arsenal becomes a surrogate father to him, carrying him through disappointment and achievment alike; suspicious by its absence at crucial times, but there to cheer him up when all looks bleak in his life.

And that is where the real beauty of this book lies. It is not about football at all, but about the pains of growing up and the disappointment that life can throw at a growing lad.

To this end football is Hornby's canvas and he paints a detailed picture of life for a middle class lad in the late 20th century. It should come as little shock that Hornby's real passion is music and the soundtrack to his book is a preview to his real masterpiece - High Fidelity.

If one wants to learn a little more about fandom since the eighties, don't read Fever Pitch. And don't read it just because you are a football fan. But do read it. Fever Pitch has an important place in literary history - just not as important as it would have you believe.