Carlisle - You Dont Know Me, But . . .: A Footballers Life

First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2013
A CBS Company

Copyright 2013 Clarke Carlisle

This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
All rights reserved.

The right of Clarke Carlisle to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

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ISBN: 978-1-47112-854-7
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-47112-883-7

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Printed in the UK by CPI (UK) Ltd, Croydon CR0 4YY

To Gem, Fran, Marley and Honey May,
I love you with all my heart,
Infinity 2012

T o tell you the story of a season I should probably start at the beginning, but to give the whole thing some kind of context, I really have to start at the end.

The end of every season is the same, whether it results in glory, failure or mid-table obscurity, there is only one thing on my mind: holidays. Weve learnt over the years not to book a holiday in the first two weeks immediately after the season. Why? Because all I do is sleep. Im sure many people are aware of this phenomenon where your body seems to shut down when you get a break after a particularly hectic period and I know it hits most of my team-mates, too. When the season stops, I dont simply have a few lie-ins I can barely stay awake for most of the day.

Everyone has experienced this feeling in some form or another: mums, dads, businessmen and women the world over. When you have had a really busy time in your life, when you have been working intensely or rushing about all day for a sustained period of time, you dont notice how tired your body is. Somehow you just get through it, because your focus is on the task at hand. It is only when you stop to take a breather, allow your body and mind to switch off, that the fatigue engulfs you. All those ailments that youve batted away for that period just annihilate you and your brain turns to mush, unable to process the simplest of demands. The rigours of a football season arent just physically demanding; theres an intensity to it all that drains you mentally and emotionally.

Looking back over a teams campaign can paint a picture that in no way reflects the truth. Lets take Northampton Town in the 2011-12 season, for example. From the outside, it looks as though it was a tough start to the year and the club were in a difficult position over Christmas on New Years Day the side was at the very bottom of the Football League and were still bumping along at the foot of the table at the start of March but they achieved safety (if that can be described as an achievement) relatively comfortably, thanks to a run of one defeat in nine, which enabled the team to get away with picking up only three points from the last six games.

The reality of being a part of that side was completely different. A team rarely achieves safety when they are bottom of the pile at the turn of the year, and this overriding notion affected everybodys view of what the club could accomplish. Week after week, the press questions were based around this Green Mile that we were walking, and the pressure to produce results was huge. The manager, Aidy Boothroyd, tried to deflect as much of it as he could, fielding responsibility for the situation and results front of house, but in the dressing room it was impossible to avoid the icy tentacles of Conference football that were wrapping around our ankles.

It affected almost everything we did. All week we would hope that Saturday would be the day that our form changed. In those circumstances, it is so hard to smile and have fun in training, because the air of impending doom is all around. I know this sounds dramatic, but you have to comprehend the number of lives that relegation affects, especially from league football to non-league.

This isnt just a question of player pride and stains on reputations (although they are the primary considerations for a player); there are the jobs of the manager, coaching staff, office staff, groundsmen and cleaners that are under threat. Theres the impact on the clubs academy, as it would have to reduce the amount of coaches, sessions and therefore opportunity for the local youngsters. Theres the impact on secondary and tertiary businesses, such as sponsors, companies that benefit from match-day foot traffic, schools and community projects that have been endorsed by the club and received support through player visits. All of this is at stake, and the responsibility rests on the shoulders of 11 men who take to the pitch on a Saturday afternoon.

When a player is fighting to avoid relegation, a loss can bring such lows that they are inevitably taken home with you, affecting the dynamic in your own house; while wins dont bring the contrasting highs that you would hope because the outcome of the season is far from certain. In the end, it is the final league position that will distinguish between success and failure, not the result of a single game.

So, having been through that experience for the entire time Id been at Northampton, having joined them on loan at the end of January, it is no exaggeration that I was completely buggered when last season finished and I happily let my body fall into its annual post-traumatic, catatonic state.

When I eventually came round, we headed out in search of some sun and relaxation. Our destination was a family resort in Greece. The children are a little older now, so its easier to amuse them on aeroplanes and a late night here or there doesnt have disastrous consequences, which meant we could be a little less particular about flights and times. I adore this part of the year for one simple reason: I get to be with my family, uninterrupted, 24/7. Switching off from the rest of the world is bliss at times, especially when you can immerse yourself in your kids and their excitement levels are off the scale. As parents, we always want to find the best resort we can afford, in the nicest part of the world, with the bluest sea, clearest sky and the tastiest food. However, when we get there we soon realise that our kids just want a swimming pool, an inflatable dolphin and ice-cream. They know there is no other time of the year when they can have ice-cream before lunch, and boy do they milk it.

For the most part of my career, my holidays have been along these lines. I was a young father, my eldest daughter Francesca being born back in 1999 when I was 19 years old. This meant that my only taste of a lads holiday came at the end of my apprenticeship with Blackpool FC. Twelve young men from the seaside embarked on a journey that is imaginatively remembered as Tenerife 98. If I was to go away with any of the boys now, I know that three nights is plenty for a drinking holiday, four gives you a job on your hands, and five means you are coming home in an absolute two and eight.