28th May, 2026
Prez is about far more than football. This true story, narrated by Prez’s barrister father, is a warm, witty and intensely personal account of their attempt to navigate the world of grassroots and academy football. It tells of the characters, skilfulness, kindnesses, injustices, duplicity and, at times, downright stupidity that they meet along the way.
Frank and utterly compelling, it provides a remarkable insight into the sport through Prez's experience of junior football and the Nottingham Forest Academy.
Incorporated into this memoir is a fascinating behind-the-scenes story arising from litigation between Brian Clough and Robert Maxwell. It also offers a unique insight into the purchase and sale of Notts County by Alan Hardy. Other well-known football figures who pop up include Darren Fletcher and Gary Brazil, the Academy manager at Nottingham Forest who once said to Andrew, "You watch everything that goes on here." How right he was…
Based on his diaries and rich in anecdotes, Andrew Prestwich brings a lawyer’s head and a father’s heart to the world of junior football and lays bare the tensions between sport, education, ambition and nurture.
Readers will love Prez, both the boy and the book.
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Extracts from Prez
It is somewhat later that Alan, owner and chairman of Notts County Football Club, phones. He starts with, ‘We’re going to have an embarrassing conversation. I’ll say what I’m going to say and then I’ll put the phone down. I think we’ve made a big mistake with Charlie.’
What happens next and what I see happen are not necessarily quite the same thing. What I see happen is that Alistair walks slowly up to the penalty area, puts the ball on the spot and hits that penalty into the top right-hand corner, the goalkeeper’s legs failing to move and his flailing arm getting nowhere near the ball, which sails out of reach to his left. Whether that is actually what happens really does not matter. The ball is definitely in the net. And I cannot stop myself from shouting, ‘He’s done it!’ both as a release of tension and to inform those players who couldn’t bear to watch and who are crouched on the ground with their heads behind their arms.
For that single shot, Alistair has a permanent place in my list of Top 10 Football Heroes. He’s not alongside George Best near the summit. But between Steve Coppell and Eric Cantona, there will forever be an indelible spot for Alistair. With one kick of the ball, he has wiped away the pain of the Rolls-Royce tournament. This might only be kids’ football, but for me it is much more important than the European Cup final on television that evening. Why should it not be so? There is little that is more satisfying in this life than seeing one’s child succeed at something. I know that my delirious reaction is pathetic. Yet none of the adults can help themselves. The parents are more ecstatic than the children. Every week, they bring their kids to training. They stand in the cold and the rain on the touchline watching something that only has a tenuous link to proper football. So, on this joyous, sunny day, they are allowed to let rip.
Gary is in there alone. I give Charlie one minute of animated, agitated instructions in French and wind him up by emphasising that he’s been left out for this weekend, too. Fathers watch open-mouthed as Charlie goes to the office of the Academy Manager. Through the windows, they watch the entire meeting. It lasts for 35 or 40 minutes during which time I am hiding in the car so as to avoid questions from parents. Charlie misses the totality of the gym session but when he comes to the car, he is smiling. And he smiles all the way home as he recounts the conversation…
‘You’re going to say that you’ve not been treated fairly, aren’t you?’ asks Gary. That isn’t exactly why Charlie is there but, seeing the door both literally and metaphorically ajar, Charlie decides to kick it open:
‘Yes.’
‘I agree with you.’ He couldn’t have given a more damning indictment of this academy.