Plays about football rarely match the drama of the real thing for the simple reason that few theatres can afford to field 22 performers and one extra to act as ref. But Nick Leather's drama has a cast list of over 50 that includes, as well as the young, football-obsessed Billy, his dad and his pals, appearances from comic-book icon Roy Race, a dour Scottish Everton manager and a full back-room staff of agents, physios and actors called upon to play plastic Subbuteo men, trees and a punctured football.
The remarkable thing is that, prior to a run at the Everyman, the production has been touring community venues performed by a company that barely has the numbers to make up a five-a-side team. But what Leather and director Serdar Bilis understand is that the build-up is often more important than the actual match: hence the theatre is decked out to resemble derby day in Liverpool with the audience strictly segregated into red and blue. As the pre-match announcer puts it: "There's no place for neutrals here."
Billy is a lad in thrall to every eight-year-old Liverpudlian's dream - to score the winning goal in the derby. His passion is uncorrupted by the commercial elements of the modern game: "I don't believe in Wags, signing-on fees, ProZone or Bosmans," he claims, "but there is one thing I believe in. I believe in football." The trouble is that, when a place on the Everton bench for the big game arrives, he turns out to be a pretty Waggish, ProZone type of guy after all, who ostentatiously appoints his best friend as his PA and becomes contactable only through his agent. "You live in a flat," he tells his doggedly loyal father. "I live in an apartment."
Leather's fast-moving play is a timely modern parable about what happens when teenagers are handed thousands of pounds a week, only to end up on the heap of expensively squandered talent. David Lyons's Billy is a thoroughly engaging dreamer who rises to the difficult challenge of ageing 22 years in 90 minutes, and Neil Caple is deeply affecting as his dad, who never loses sight of the way the beautiful game ought to be played. Sporting dramas often go wide of the mark, but when Leather shoots, he scores.
