The tag is inadequate: What Garcia depicts is the cravenness and venality, the arrogance and anger, the greed and the grasping of soccer’s governing body and the men who had come to dominate it.
He does it so relentlessly that, by the end, the effect should be so draining, so head-spinning and soul-sapping, as to be faintly dystopian. That it is not is only because so many of the demands made by FIFA’s self-enriching, self-interested guardians of the game are so comic.
There is the story of Jack Warner trying to persuade England’s bid team to get his lawyer’s son a job, and then taking umbrage when the employment was not quite good enough. He did the same when England agreed to stage two games involving Trinidad and Tobago’s under-20 team, but did not think to pay its airfare.
There is Nicolás Leoz, the Paraguayan delegate, playing the role of a particularly unconvincing Bond…