The best book you've never read

Ok so you might have read it, I don't know, I just thought a catchy title like that would get more clicks. The book in question is 'This Bloody Mary Is the Last Thing I Own' by the British writer Jonathan Rendall. A great title to be sure - from a quote attributed to a Las Vegas barfly - but this book also has one of the most arresting opening lines in non-fiction:

It was a few hours after Frank Bruno attacked me at Betty Boop's Bar in the lobby of the MGM Grand that I decided to get out of boxing.

This is a book about boxing (this is a boxing blog after all) but as one reviewer points out, it successfully avoids falling into cliche and contains writing that would grace any genre.

For instance, how about this passage describing the author's first (and last) encounter with ageing Cuban boxing legend 'Kid Chocolate':

Kid Chocolate sat down on one of the chairs and opened his mouth to speak. But rum trickled out instead through his cracked lips stained with tobacco, like lava suddenly spewed from a long-extinct volcano. His voice when it emerged was a hoarse whisper, and he formed words with difficulty, each syllable accompanied by the widening of his eyes and a grin, as if greeting every tortured sound as an old, forgotten friend.

Rendall tells the story of his love affair with boxing; from falling in love with the sport as a wide-eyed eight year old watching Roberto Duran on television, to his subsequent all-too-brief foray into the ring at university, his career as a boxing journalist and sometime agent, through to the end of the affair and the reasons that led to him walking away from the sport - something in reality he never quite managed.

Several things struck me when I recently re-read the book. First and foremost, the quality of the writing, but also an overwhelming sense of sadness. You see, Rendall died a couple of years ago, aged just 48. His body wasn't found for a week. His talent was obvious, but Rendall lived a troubled life in many ways, and never really scaled the heights he reached in 'This Bloody Mary..' which received the Somerset Maugham Award for young writers when it was published in 1997.

Some have likened his writing to Hunter S. Thompson's 'Gonzo' brand of journalism, and it's true, there are passages, particularly those concerning his adventures in Las Vegas, that have a Hunter-esque quality. But he's also self-aware and incisive, a wonderful travel guide through the weird and wonderful world of boxing, from the fading lights of early-90s Las Vegas to the York Hall in Bethnal Green.

Although there's lots to admire for non-boxing fans, fans of the sport, particularly in Britain, will enjoy being reminded of names and characters from years gone by. People like Colin 'Sweet C' McMillan, an enormously talented British featherweight who Rendall helped guide to a world title in 1992. McMillan had a 'sweet as sugar' style that if injury hadn't forced him to retire could have made him one of the sport's biggest stars. Luckily you can watch all his professional fights on his website.

Rendall also reserves many of his most purple passages for another great British fighter from that era, Herrol 'Bomber' Graham, often talked of as the best British fighter to never win a world title. Trained by Brendan Ingle in Sheffield, Graham's quick, evasive, wholly unteachable style, was a massive influence on another up-and-coming fighter from the same gym, 'Prince' Naseem Hamed.

Rendall's writing, in my opinion, deserves to be mentioned alongside that of British writers such as Hugh McIlvanney and Donald McRae as well as the Tooles, Mailers and Lieblings of this world. He was a truly original voice and I'm just sad he wasn't with us for longer.