If the French are the flair in midfield, the Germans the attack from the inside channels, the Italians the cry-foul defence, then Britain is the goalkeeper: stand alone, the bastion of last resort, more solid than spectacular, part of the team - and yet not. And Britain's place in the world is epitomised by its goalkeepers: the end of Empire abroad came as the army and politicians were being humiliated in Suez and the football team, despite the best efforts of Gill Merrick (Birmingham and England), were being humbled by the Hungarians at home; the thawing of the cold war is begun not over Cuban missiles but over Lev Yashin, the superb and widely admired Russian whose arrival for the world cup in 1966 changes the attitudes of a nation - the Reds cannot be all bad if they have such an exemplary keeper. A genuine, touching story of a nation's affection for football's perennial underdog, of a childhood obsession and of a glorious footballing tradition that culminates - perhaps ends even - in the last truly British goalkeeper: David Seaman.