Another chapter addresses the phenomenon of sporting dynasties.

In some sports,
Papineau points out, excellence runs in families. Cricket is the most obvious
example: dynastic surnames � the Khans, the Waughs, the Broads, the Stewarts � run
through its history. The same is true of motor racing and ice hockey. Yet in
soccer, basketball and American football, �sporting families are thin on the
ground�. Why? You�d intuitively think, Papineau says, that the more dynastic a
sport is, the more important genes would be � that there would be more of a genetic
disposition, say, towards cricket than football. But that would be exactly wrong.
Sports that run in families, he shows, tend to be the least gene-dependent: it is
precisely because genes aren�t really important that environmental advantages come
to the fore. By contrast, it is in non-dynastic sports that genes generally trump
environment: you can throw all the resources you like at a prospective basketball
player, but his height will remain a critical factor in determining whether he
makes it to the NBA.

For a shortish book, Knowing the Score covers an impressive amount of ground. In
other chapters, Papineau examines race and ethnicity (arguing, provocatively, that
everyone should be free to define their ethnicities as they choose) and shows how a
road-cycling peloton � the main body of racers � is a sort of testing ground for
ideas about mutualism and self-interest. The book could do with a more sustained
examination of gender, however. I�d have liked to have read Papineau teasing out
the philosophical implications posed by a case like that of the intersex South
African runner Caster Semenya.

At a time when data analysis dominates �serious� discussion of sport, Papineau�s

faith in the power of pure reasoning is refreshing. Statistics clearly don�t
interest him much � instead, his book is full of anecdotes. I loved learning about
the 1994 Caribbean Cup football match in which one of the teams realised, with
minutes to go, that it would qualify for the next round if it scored at either end.
(This surreal situation came about because of an oversight by the tournament�s
organisers: Papineau has fun lambasting the �incompetence� of administrators.) The
author can at times seem a bit self-satisfied � the sort of person who knows he�s
the cleverest in the room. And he ought to have taken greater care to double check
the speed of Federer�s serve. For the most part, however, he barely puts a foot
wrong in what is, as he would be unlikely to say, a blinder of a performance.

� Knowing the Score is published by Constable & Robinson. To order a copy for
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