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You Don't Know Me, But ...
In the summer of 2012, Clarke Carlisle was without a contract and wondering if he still had a future in football. There were plenty of other opportunities, but he was determined to give it another go. Carlisle was soon back in the thick of the action. As the events of the year unfolded, Carlisle looked back at his career, from his early days playing for England Under-21s, through career-threatening injuries and a battle with alcohol problems, to a late arrival at the top level with Burnley.
- GenresFootballAutobiography
288 pages, Paperback
First published September 12, 2013
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
November 17, 2019
Disappointing. I picked this up having found interesting the two TV documentaries Clarke Carlisle had presented - on racism and on depression in football and the wider world. I probably hence had higher expectations of this autobiography than was reasonable. Carlisle comes across as a decent, generally likeable and intelligent man.. but he is a footballer after all, and the ability of a sportsperson to tell an engaging and absorbing story is perhaps never going to be that of a professional author.
Sections where he talks about his personal struggles with honesty and frankness, discussions of the stresses of the game and the short and fragile career that is part of football, I found interesting. There were some well thought-out and well stated arguments here which reinforce the public opinion of the author as an intelligent commenter on the game. Too much of the book however felt simplistic and immature - tales of drunken japes and changing room humour, snipes at former managers and players who he disagreed with, and a (completely understandable, yet overly repeated) significant number of pages amounting to "I am coming to the end of my career, I'm struggling to make ends meet a bit, I love my supportive wife and family, I hope something else comes along that I can earn a crust doing" made too much of this autobiography a bit less interesting.
Sections where he talks about his personal struggles with honesty and frankness, discussions of the stresses of the game and the short and fragile career that is part of football, I found interesting. There were some well thought-out and well stated arguments here which reinforce the public opinion of the author as an intelligent commenter on the game. Too much of the book however felt simplistic and immature - tales of drunken japes and changing room humour, snipes at former managers and players who he disagreed with, and a (completely understandable, yet overly repeated) significant number of pages amounting to "I am coming to the end of my career, I'm struggling to make ends meet a bit, I love my supportive wife and family, I hope something else comes along that I can earn a crust doing" made too much of this autobiography a bit less interesting.
March 28, 2015
Not terribly well written but it was entertaining and the guy seems pretty down to earth. He was not one of the greatest players in England and this biography shows how being footballer is not necessarily fame, money, and glory. In fact Clarke makes it sound like a job, just like any other. Except in this job you can be spat at, insulted, judged harshly by people who have no idea what it's like to play football, and even your boss can assault you and deliver countless obscenities onto you. And for all this you may be lucky to get a wage that covers your living costs. However, you do get to do the one thing you love most, even if it is only for a short and precarious time.
August 15, 2015
difficult to rate this book as I initially enjoyed reading however did find the subjects apparent lack of responsibility for his actions slightly frustrating .
all in all worth a read .
all in all worth a read .
December 29, 2019
Definitely not your run of the mill football autobiography. A very good insight to a Clark's need to continue to play for financial reasons and his issues with mental health.
November 13, 2021
Well worth a read
Very interesting and as i am not a football person it kept me glued to what happened next and a lovely ending
Very interesting and as i am not a football person it kept me glued to what happened next and a lovely ending
January 9, 2014
I've had a bit of a fangirl crush on Clarke Carlisle for many years. He's an extremely handsome chap. He always speaks in a considered way. He stands up for what he believes in in the fight against racism/homophobia/mental health awareness. Plus, he has been on Countdown (I auditioned for Countdown once and didn't make it on, so anyone who does is a success in my eyes). So when my husband bought me this book for Christmas, my eyes lit up like glowing lights on our tree.
Anyway, enough fangirling. On to the book. I've read so many football autobiographies over the years, some high profile premier league players and others by players who have plied their trade in the lower leagues. Quite a few of them deal with the impact that success and fame can have on a person, particularly those with an addictive personality (thinking of particular about the autobiographies of Tony Adams, Paul Merson, Niall Quinn here). You don't know me, but... does have some similarities to these books. Clarke makes no bones about his addiction, and talks frankly about how decisions have been impaired as a result of these addictions. However, for me the highlight of this book is Clarke's ability to convey what it is like to be suffering from depression, especially when to the outside world it seems you have it all going for you. I found myself nodding along saying 'yes, that's exactly what it's like!' and he beautifully captures the fragility and vulnerability of a depressive. I've never overdosed, thankfully, but the acute pain Clarke writes of in the section about his own overdose is hard hitting and emotive.
In terms of his footballing stories, there are some interesting ones-as a Sheffield United fan I was interested that he might have been transferred to Bramall Lane at one point, and I am always keen to hear how players and former players talk about the managers they have worked under. Yet the forte of this autobiography is without a shadow of a doubt how impeccably Clarke Carlisle talks about issues that other people in the public eye shy away from.
His obvious intelligence adds to the readability, the words flowing freely which makes You Don't Know Me, But... an easy book to get sucked into.
One minor mistake in it that griped me a bit as an adopted South Yorkshire lass- Rotherham's new ground is not Don Valley (that's the one with the running track, now being demolished), it is the new York Stadium.
Overall, I wouldn't just recommend this book to sports fans, but to anyone who has felt at a low ebb. It is exquisitely written and yet remains highly accessible.
You Don't Know Me, But... is out now published by Simon and Schuster.
8.5/10
Anyway, enough fangirling. On to the book. I've read so many football autobiographies over the years, some high profile premier league players and others by players who have plied their trade in the lower leagues. Quite a few of them deal with the impact that success and fame can have on a person, particularly those with an addictive personality (thinking of particular about the autobiographies of Tony Adams, Paul Merson, Niall Quinn here). You don't know me, but... does have some similarities to these books. Clarke makes no bones about his addiction, and talks frankly about how decisions have been impaired as a result of these addictions. However, for me the highlight of this book is Clarke's ability to convey what it is like to be suffering from depression, especially when to the outside world it seems you have it all going for you. I found myself nodding along saying 'yes, that's exactly what it's like!' and he beautifully captures the fragility and vulnerability of a depressive. I've never overdosed, thankfully, but the acute pain Clarke writes of in the section about his own overdose is hard hitting and emotive.
In terms of his footballing stories, there are some interesting ones-as a Sheffield United fan I was interested that he might have been transferred to Bramall Lane at one point, and I am always keen to hear how players and former players talk about the managers they have worked under. Yet the forte of this autobiography is without a shadow of a doubt how impeccably Clarke Carlisle talks about issues that other people in the public eye shy away from.
His obvious intelligence adds to the readability, the words flowing freely which makes You Don't Know Me, But... an easy book to get sucked into.
One minor mistake in it that griped me a bit as an adopted South Yorkshire lass- Rotherham's new ground is not Don Valley (that's the one with the running track, now being demolished), it is the new York Stadium.
Overall, I wouldn't just recommend this book to sports fans, but to anyone who has felt at a low ebb. It is exquisitely written and yet remains highly accessible.
You Don't Know Me, But... is out now published by Simon and Schuster.
8.5/10
January 19, 2014
Nestling between Calvino and Chomsky on my bookcase sits Clarke Carlisle's autobiography - a footballer who has graced the lower leagues and even had the odd foray into the Premiership with eventually doomed second-string outfits. The blurb sets this up as a Garry Nelson's "stories from the subs bench meets insight into the troubled mind of a depressive player who otherwise stands up as a relative intellectual of the game." And on these merits it is a success; placing Carlisle instead between Cahill and Cole renders him a virtual intellectual colossus of the game.
By turns honest and revealing, it takes the backdrop of his final season as a pro, with York City and Northampton Town, as an opportunity for him to talk through other events that have defined his career, touching with interest on issues like depression, alcoholism, gambling and racism as well as a sub plot of his increasing competence as a sensitive family man. It is a message that many men could do with hearing.
When he riffs on the big nights out that footballers enjoy it both illuminates and rankles: I understand the need for the machismo and bonding at clubs but am fairly horrified when he talks about such seeming unprofessionalism at QPR, particularly when I was shovelling my hard-earned through the door at the time of their shenanigans. It seems that this laddish booze culture is everywhere, a view echoed even more bare-facedly in The Secret Footballer (a lesser volume, I might add) but it is difficult to escape the impression that slinging money around stupidly is part of the QPR way (which Neil Warnock's The Gaffer also attests to). This is by no means a key message of the book but, as a Rangers fan, I am innately drawn to the sections relating to my club, as no doubt you will be should you read it.
There needs to be more Clarke Carlisle's in the game - a decent player and a decent bloke and the book will certainly be more interesting than most of the Premoirs you could choose to read instead. It does not totally escape the cliches of the game and the writing can leap unexpectedly into present tense (which might sound energising, like a centre back popping up in the opposition box as a tasty cross is slung over, but actually feels more like the wet-towel butt-slap that brings you to your senses as you turn to helplessly observe the ball trickling across your own goalkeeper's line, delivered by the guy you were supposed to be marking).
However, if you support one of the clubs Clarke has played for (this will take in a lot of you) then this is worth a look.
By turns honest and revealing, it takes the backdrop of his final season as a pro, with York City and Northampton Town, as an opportunity for him to talk through other events that have defined his career, touching with interest on issues like depression, alcoholism, gambling and racism as well as a sub plot of his increasing competence as a sensitive family man. It is a message that many men could do with hearing.
When he riffs on the big nights out that footballers enjoy it both illuminates and rankles: I understand the need for the machismo and bonding at clubs but am fairly horrified when he talks about such seeming unprofessionalism at QPR, particularly when I was shovelling my hard-earned through the door at the time of their shenanigans. It seems that this laddish booze culture is everywhere, a view echoed even more bare-facedly in The Secret Footballer (a lesser volume, I might add) but it is difficult to escape the impression that slinging money around stupidly is part of the QPR way (which Neil Warnock's The Gaffer also attests to). This is by no means a key message of the book but, as a Rangers fan, I am innately drawn to the sections relating to my club, as no doubt you will be should you read it.
There needs to be more Clarke Carlisle's in the game - a decent player and a decent bloke and the book will certainly be more interesting than most of the Premoirs you could choose to read instead. It does not totally escape the cliches of the game and the writing can leap unexpectedly into present tense (which might sound energising, like a centre back popping up in the opposition box as a tasty cross is slung over, but actually feels more like the wet-towel butt-slap that brings you to your senses as you turn to helplessly observe the ball trickling across your own goalkeeper's line, delivered by the guy you were supposed to be marking).
However, if you support one of the clubs Clarke has played for (this will take in a lot of you) then this is worth a look.
September 2, 2016
Overall, this was disappointing. From the few times I have seen him on TV he has come across very well: thoughtful, intelligent, considered. Given the elements of his life that an some extra depth, his openness about his depression and battle with alcohol, I thought this would be more than the usual footballer's tale.
Although it does touch on his demons, it mostly descends into matey anecdotes, written in football-lingo about players on the lash, his relationships with the gaffer etc.
I was going to give this 1 star, but on reflection it was OK, just not very noteworthy, which is a shame given that I think he is capable of writing something better.
Although it does touch on his demons, it mostly descends into matey anecdotes, written in football-lingo about players on the lash, his relationships with the gaffer etc.
I was going to give this 1 star, but on reflection it was OK, just not very noteworthy, which is a shame given that I think he is capable of writing something better.
April 21, 2021
Honest and open about his mental health issues. Guys get help if you need it. No shame in telling people your struggling. Football wise not the greatest read but the bigger picture is mental health awareness.
March 3, 2016
A good read and interesting account of a "normal" footballer's life (not a superstar detached from reality). Remarkably honest about his battles with depression.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews