I was in there this week and they were doing a revamp. It is no longer owned by the club though. I guess Nike or somebody own it so they are responsible for stock. When I went in there were no books except for maybe the Derek Hales autobiography.
Would be interested to read that one, although I am not sure a Mr Flanagan would be buying!
Hi Henry, not exactly sure but it's the last book actually published by the club itself about ten years ago- so it is an official club publication. May be wrong about Derek Hales though.
It will have been No Substitute, which I produced with Keith. KP recently reminded me that we printed 5,000, which is a good number, and he reckons there are about 500 left. The club sold the stock to the shop franchise-holder, I think.
Haven't caught up with Paul's book yet, but definitely will. New Battle for The Valley due to be delivered to me on Tuesday. All geared up to get pre-orders in the post same day - as long as they turn up by early afternoon.
Haven't yet sorted out e-book (publishers can't even sort out review copies) but the printed copies is now available on several other sources including Foyle Books.
if you want to avoid using Amazon Paul's book should be available on the Supporters Trust stall behind the covered end (AKA north stand) on match days.
If the e -book isn't imminent, I'll just have to get it off Amazon., as too impatient to wait I'm overseas and don't think the Supporter's Trrust will send it to the BFPO bag room in Ruislip for me! Unless Alex Wright could get it and send it there in the internal mail?
Hi Fiona, i have asked about the e-book and publishers say they are working on it. There are a couple of other online options for those who don't like amazon - there's this one but again I think it's UK based https://wordery.com/the-charlton-men-paul-breen-9781783081660 Also are there any other BFPO bag rooms around apart from Ruislip?
Hi Paul. All mail has to come out from the bag room, which is in Ruislip. If the e-book isn't imminent, curiosity will get the better of me and I'll have to order a real book and get it out to South Africa one way or another. Which could be via a visitor
The Supporters Trust does have a spare copy (sorry Paul) and, being the generous and inclusive organisation that we are, I'm sure we could see our way to posting it to you via Ruislip, especially if you are a Trust member. PM me with details if you like.
Hope you are enjoying the book if u have got it Fiona. I just got this review from a Belfast journalist - there's quite a few bits of it that I like.
The Charlton Men
Reviewed by Eugene Mc Cusker
Thames River Press have discovered a bright new Irish talent in London. Breen is an academic who in a previous life was a freelance journalist. Funnily enough the theme of undercurrent is everywhere in Breen’s debut novel, ‘The Charlton Men’. Two very different men, Lance a Londoner who has fought in Afghanistan and Fergus an Irishman with a past are the main characters. Both vie for the attention of a female while paying witness to the fortunes of Charlton football club.
Breen quickly introduces Lance who talks of Afghanistan as an idiots guide to war and tossing away days of your life. By Chapter Six we are all asking will Fergus actually share his own story of back home.
Wide eyed Fergus does eventually make it to a Charlton game. Breen discusses how good Bradley Wright Phillips is as football is a bond for both men. Riots in the city is another equation for both to deal with in their own way.
The love interest Katy remains mysterious and almost stand offish with both men. However Breen in Chapter 11 brings Fergus relationship with Katy to another level. A chapter later and Fergus secret is out there in the open. Meanwhile Lance who never thought a woman would find him attractive again soon makes his move. Lust by skype is a surprise. But then Breen’s book is always trying to surprise or at least leave us asking what is coming next.
The confrontation between the two main protagonists does boil over in Chapter 21. Will everyone emerge happy, Breen decides that.
Since we're playing Watford this afternoon - here's my memories of the first time I went to see Charlton play them back in early 2009 and that shitty season - old writing I've kept but never used. It's not really edited or anything. just putting it on here for anyone who wants to read it and remember how far we have come, and why hopefully at the end of today we'll have come a lot further, when we win Heading down there now.
"After two years of going out I still hadn’t persuaded my other half to accept that great Saturday tradition of accompanying her man to watch the local football team. That moment wouldn’t come until a month later at home to Watford in a match that had to be won if there was any chance of avoiding relegation.
I went in hope, armed with scarf and flag. That flag was a combination of the Charlton Athletic logo on one side and the Irish tricolour on the other. Of course, going into the stadium, the stewards had to remove the flagpole (thin strip of bamboo that it was) in case I'd get carried away and attack someone.
Surely if I did, it might liven things up for there hadn't been much out of the ordinary for Charlton fans these past months, except for a Valentine's Day 2-0 win over Plymouth, and me in the theatre watching 'We will rock you' while that was happening. Lovely, bloody lovely - a rare win and I miss it.
So deprived of my flagpole, which kind of makes it hard to fly a flag for club and country, I headed into the ground armed with match programme and expectation, whilst my other half came dressed in hat and scarf, to combat the cold, and a book in her handbag for when the inevitable boredom set in.
Now imagine we watched that March afternoon through the eyes of my fiancée. This is what would have happened. Around half past two the stadium began to fill up. The human footsteps dispersed the seagulls who seem to have a good survival gig going on here in south east London, on account of all the waste recycling places on the Greenwich Peninsula, and then the Thames in the background when they get tired of all the shit in their everyday life. As the seagulls rise into a grey sky, melded into the floodlights, the house announcer interrupts the page in the book that she’s reading. Next thing they’re singing songs about Rocking Robins and the players are lining up. She’s not amused as they start to kick a ball around the pitch and neither are the fans for this is another performance that’s like a doughnut. There seems to be nothing of substance in the middle and it’s not the central midfielders’ fault.
There just doesn’t seem to be a plan, a vision, even a tunnel vision, because Charlton Athletic are spiralling into a downward tunnel, and there seems to be no visible bottom, no depths to which they cannot fall. Nightmare scenarios are taking place of trips to seaside towns normally associated with the old Third and Fourth Divisions.
She’s turning the pages of her book as all around her men and women are witnessing an opening quarter that must have given Watford the impression that they were seriously sitting at the wrong end of the League table. By the end of the match they’d confused her even further when Danny Shittu scored for both teams. With the end result of a 3-2 defeat she’d finished another twenty pages of her novel unaware she’d watched the final proof that Charlton were going down.
A month later when she’d probably finished her novel and moved on to another one, Charlton’s relegation was de facto confirmed with a couple of goalless draws. Though the end of the season brought some hope from victories over fellow relegation candidates Norwich and Southampton, the seagulls came to rest on the guano of the 2008/09 season on Saturday 18th April with a draw against the seasiders of Blackpool. Less than two years from the advent of relegation from the Premier League, the suburb I’d moved to was anticipating visits from Tranmere instead of Liverpool, Hartlepool instead of Newcastle, and Leyton Orient instead of West Ham. Christ we’d fallen far and there was no Messiah in sight. Hello Third Division for the first time since the 80s."
Picos thanks for the offer, but i'd feel guilty if you sent me your copy. I'll see if my bf can get a copy and bring it our or ask Alex Wright is he can get a copy and put it in the internal mail. Thanks
Pico, thanks for the offer, but i'd feel guilty if you sent me your copy. I'll see if my bf can get a copy and bring it our or ask Alex Wright is he can get a copy and put it in the internal mail. Thanks
Hi everyone, two bits of information - the e-book version of The Charlton Men is now apparently coming out on 1st November, and there is also a review of the book in the current fantastic edition of Voice of the Valley - http://www.votvonline.com - well worth a read & some excellent celebrations of past, present, and the hopes of a better future (which is starting to look pretty good already).
Comments
Are you sure it was not Peacock's one?
Haven't caught up with Paul's book yet, but definitely will. New Battle for The Valley due to be delivered to me on Tuesday. All geared up to get pre-orders in the post same day - as long as they turn up by early afternoon.
Also are there any other BFPO bag rooms around apart from Ruislip?
The Supporters Trust does have a spare copy (sorry Paul) and, being the generous and inclusive organisation that we are, I'm sure we could see our way to posting it to you via Ruislip, especially if you are a Trust member. PM me with details if you like.
The Charlton Men
Reviewed by Eugene Mc Cusker
Thames River Press have discovered a bright new Irish talent in London. Breen is an academic who in a previous life was a freelance journalist. Funnily enough the theme of undercurrent is everywhere in Breen’s debut novel, ‘The Charlton Men’. Two very different men, Lance a Londoner who has fought in Afghanistan and Fergus an Irishman with a past are the main characters. Both vie for the attention of a female while paying witness to the fortunes of Charlton football club.
Breen quickly introduces Lance who talks of Afghanistan as an idiots guide to war and tossing away days of your life. By Chapter Six we are all asking will Fergus actually share his own story of back home.
Wide eyed Fergus does eventually make it to a Charlton game. Breen discusses how good Bradley Wright Phillips is as football is a bond for both men. Riots in the city is another equation for both to deal with in their own way.
The love interest Katy remains mysterious and almost stand offish with both men. However Breen in Chapter 11 brings Fergus relationship with Katy to another level. A chapter later and Fergus secret is out there in the open. Meanwhile Lance who never thought a woman would find him attractive again soon makes his move. Lust by skype is a surprise. But then Breen’s book is always trying to surprise or at least leave us asking what is coming next.
The confrontation between the two main protagonists does boil over in Chapter 21. Will everyone emerge happy, Breen decides that.
ENDS
"After two years of going out I still hadn’t persuaded my other half to accept that great Saturday tradition of accompanying her man to watch the local football team. That moment wouldn’t come until a month later at home to Watford in a match that had to be won if there was any chance of avoiding relegation.
I went in hope, armed with scarf and flag. That flag was a combination of the Charlton Athletic logo on one side and the Irish tricolour on the other. Of course, going into the stadium, the stewards had to remove the flagpole (thin strip of bamboo that it was) in case I'd get carried away and attack someone.
Surely if I did, it might liven things up for there hadn't been much out of the ordinary for Charlton fans these past months, except for a Valentine's Day 2-0 win over Plymouth, and me in the theatre watching 'We will rock you' while that was happening. Lovely, bloody lovely - a rare win and I miss it.
So deprived of my flagpole, which kind of makes it hard to fly a flag for club and country, I headed into the ground armed with match programme and expectation, whilst my other half came dressed in hat and scarf, to combat the cold, and a book in her handbag for when the inevitable boredom set in.
Now imagine we watched that March afternoon through the eyes of my fiancée. This is what would have happened. Around half past two the stadium began to fill up. The human footsteps dispersed the seagulls who seem to have a good survival gig going on here in south east London, on account of all the waste recycling places on the Greenwich Peninsula, and then the Thames in the background when they get tired of all the shit in their everyday life. As the seagulls rise into a grey sky, melded into the floodlights, the house announcer interrupts the page in the book that she’s reading. Next thing they’re singing songs about Rocking Robins and the players are lining up. She’s not amused as they start to kick a ball around the pitch and neither are the fans for this is another performance that’s like a doughnut. There seems to be nothing of substance in the middle and it’s not the central midfielders’ fault.
There just doesn’t seem to be a plan, a vision, even a tunnel vision, because Charlton Athletic are spiralling into a downward tunnel, and there seems to be no visible bottom, no depths to which they cannot fall. Nightmare scenarios are taking place of trips to seaside towns normally associated with the old Third and Fourth Divisions.
She’s turning the pages of her book as all around her men and women are witnessing an opening quarter that must have given Watford the impression that they were seriously sitting at the wrong end of the League table. By the end of the match they’d confused her even further when Danny Shittu scored for both teams. With the end result of a 3-2 defeat she’d finished another twenty pages of her novel unaware she’d watched the final proof that Charlton were going down.
A month later when she’d probably finished her novel and moved on to another one, Charlton’s relegation was de facto confirmed with a couple of goalless draws. Though the end of the season brought some hope from victories over fellow relegation candidates Norwich and Southampton, the seagulls came to rest on the guano of the 2008/09 season on Saturday 18th April with a draw against the seasiders of Blackpool. Less than two years from the advent of relegation from the Premier League, the suburb I’d moved to was anticipating visits from Tranmere instead of Liverpool, Hartlepool instead of Newcastle, and Leyton Orient instead of West Ham. Christ we’d fallen far and there was no Messiah in sight. Hello Third Division for the first time since the 80s."