About the book: year / - Don't forget the Boat, Charlie. Half past eight, nine. Okay?" Resnik turned at the sound of Ben Riley's voice, easily picking out his face, the only one among the crowd of supporters pressed against the fence, not taunting, calling insults. With two minutes remaining in an apparent goalless draw, a war of attrition playing out in the late-season no man's land mud, the ball slid towards the wing and a few blades of grass left on the field. The striker, having got rid of one challenge, ran thirty yards before crashing into it, not knowing whether to pass or shoot, the defender brought him down from behind, sliding forward. raising his feet to leave spike marks high inside the goal, the free-kick, misch, spun off the outstretched boot and crossed the line into the net. Fifty or so visiting fans charged at their opponents, coins flashing in their clenched fists..