Review of former Sunderland chairman Sir Bob Murray's autobiography - honest, eye-opening and more entertaining than you might think

Success was gradual, leaving the Consett school he hated with one O-level (maths) and minimal prospects, but eventually becoming a bathroom magnate. This would be corny if it was fiction.

His business ascent is fascinating, but the main allure of this hardback is football.

Fascinating snippets emerge; the National Lottery pulling £2.5m of funding from the Beacon of Light due to the Adam Johnson affair being one (who exactly were they punishing?).

Murray openly dislikes certain people. Politically centre-left, Jeremy Corbyn and Nicola Sturgeon aren’t for him, but he “detested” the “totally evil” Margaret Thatcher.

Other Bête noires include Tore André Flo, agents (“a plague of locusts”), Stewart Donald, Charlie Methven, cheating Jimmy Hill, Lloyds Bank, Alan Stubbs, Margaret Byrne, certain former business associates, the mere concept of the Premier League and Newcastle United’s perennial absence of dignity (which he does not blame their fans for).

However, attracting most scorn is a successor, Ellis Short, with an entire chapter in his “honour”. Much contempt is revealed: “If Ellis Short had stayed, we might be in the National League now” and “I didn’t get everything right, but I didn’t appoint a fascist”.

While he fondly remembers the Peter Reid era, there are definite misgivings. He also flatly contradicts the ex-manager’s assertion that funds were not made available to capitalise during Sunderland’s seventh place Premier League finishes.

Murray, understandably, refers to colossal amounts squandered on the transfer fees and salaries of disastrous signings: Flo, Fredgaard, Núñez, Laslandes, Medina, McAteer, Babb, Björklund, Wright, Helmer and Carteron.

Not everyone shares identical memories and his opinions are his own; such as a gushing admiration for royalty. There are a couple of factual inaccuracies, albeit very minor, while the description of his coat of arms is perhaps not a highlight.

Peter Reid’s acquisition of 5% of the club is glossed over; ditto Vaux Breweries not being granted the stadium’s pouring rights.

To Murray’s credit though, while alluding to the anxiety from the abuse he received when things went badly, he doesn’t wallow and seeks no propitiation.

In this reviewer’s memory some of that abuse bordered on unhinged. His mouthiest critics have yet to explain what else he could reasonably have done.

He never made money from SAFC and, although undeniably wealthy, his level of affluence now seems quaint compared to football’s multi-billionaires of 2023.

Some passages may be misconstrued as boastful. But let’s face it, comparing where he started (in Consett, skint) and what he became, it would be difficult and somewhat dishonest not to impress his achievements upon the reader. Stadium, Academy, Beacon, Foundation, Wembley, businesses, marathons…

The reader is left with an impression of someone who, by his own admission, got things wrong but always acted in good faith.

In contradistinction to football’s authorities who allow any old degenerate to own a club if they are sufficiently loaded, Bob Murray knows what “fit and proper” actually means.

As it’s football, we shall end with a cliché. I’d Do It All Again is an ideal stocking filler; £20 at www.sirbobmurraybook.com, or from at the Beacon of Light and SAFC stores. All proceeds go to the Foundation of Light.