Watt's with the sofa?

I didn't expect to discover this until Tuesday evening's cup visit from Dagenham & Redbridge, but the Valley is still a goal music free zone, my biggest fear from the summer break hadn't materialised. There are other shockers of course, it's a club that embraces naff, but we still haven't fallen to the standards of certain other South London clubs.

Taking my seat yesterday (far dirtier than it has been on any other opening day fixture) I was impressed with the ease of gaining entry to the ground. I was one of the lucky few that had not only received my season ticket, but had the correct details on it. A quick scan and I was in, no questioning which ticket number it was this week, although my choice of lucky turnstile is no longer an option as the three I can now use are a further ten yards walk and add nearly thirty seconds to my initial toilet dash upon arrival.

I felt for the many in queues around the ticket offices as they risked sunstroke trying to put right a cock-up of gigantic proportions by the club when they had all summer to organise these new tickets. I've printed my cup ticket off at home, perhaps the club should have left it to us to print our own season tickets as well.

The three thousand QPR fans with paper tickets entered the ground without fuss and were among the first to gaze with astonishment upon a settee next to the pitch in the north west corner. With all the class of something the crass Soccer AM could wish to muster, fans can win the opportunity of watching a live game while pretending they're at home. At a time when real supporters campaign for safe standing, we get slouch seating. I can only assume Roland saw it as a money making venture, come May he'll be down the back of it looking for loose change to bank.

The sofa is bad, and the new screen showing the game and replays (minus any contentious decisions of course) is not much better. At this early stage of the season when nine out of ten supporters have no idea who's who on the pitch, the line ups have never been needed so much. Not to mention the lack of the fiiiissshhh desperately avoiding a net. You'll be glad to note however that I rather like the knight mascot. Something good has come out of all these changes then, although unsurprisingly I'm informed this mascot was chosen by the paying customer, not the club. An enthusiastic character, it must have been hot in that get up, especially when escorted off by the cute redhead.

And so to the team. Old Roland has sold the mothership, Standard Liege, to the delight of its clubs supporters. In the short term this means we won't have to endure second rate bench warmers being paraded in our shop window, while in the long run it could mean that we'd become a certain Belgian's number one priority. Finally a real possible fruition from the network. There were plenty of new signings, but these signings were actually ours with only one of the seven being a loan deal. I believe four started yesterday, I'd have been a little more self assured for you if it wasn't for that blinkin' big screen.

Patrick Bauer, the big German centre half started alongside Diarra in a solid looking partnership and the cafc twitter hashtag will boldly proclaim how he had Charlie Austin in his back pocket all afternoon. I believe the number 22 in the middle of the park was Al-Hadji Ba, although I am basing this on the fact that I could only see two letters on his shirt above the number. A quiet game from this lad but I'm sure we'll grow to love him, as we will the big viking up front, Simon Makienok. Looking like an extra from Sons of Anarchy, this giant of a man had an abysmal first half playing alongside Karlan Ahearne-Grant, so much so that I was weeping for the loss of our dear friend George Tucudean from the side, yet the big fellow grew into the game during the second period after an inspired substitution. The shining star however was Ahmed Kashi, an Algerian defensive midfielder. Wearing the number three shirt (thanks again twitter for helping with this conclusion), he mopped up all the loose balls and was as confident passing back as he was building the play back up again. I believe a couple of others made a cameo but, in reality, I failed to notice.

Something nobody failed to notice was Tony Watt's arrival after the break. A dire first half had the sofa family reaching for the remote, yet with the Scot up front we displayed ambition and desire, and it was only a matter of time before he showed Luzon what a mistake he'd made leaving him on the bench. A training ground bust up had been to blame, but this squabbling is detrimental to the club. They will never send each other Christmas cards, and I'm sure the Coventry rumours were pleasing to Luzon, yet Watt epitomizes the passion we once always expected to see in a Charlton shirt years ago.

Special mention must also go to both Nick Pope in goal who showed no nerves in pulling off a string of excellent saves, and Morgan Fox who scored a peach of a goal to seal the victory. Last season there wasn't a bigger critic of the young full back than me, but stepping out of Gomez's shadow he looks far more fearless.

Our record in London derbies has never been as good as it is this season, QPR though have got a lot of work to do if they're going to repeat their last season at this level. What should have been a really stern test became a stroll in the park, even the traditional last five minute nail biting failed to materialize. If I'd been sat on a sofa I could have sat back and properly relaxed.

The best and worst of West London

Queen's Park Rangers are a strange football club. As a child I remember they were one of the best in the land, Stan Bowles, Gerry Francis, and co playing the most attractive of football in the late seventies. Then there was that plastic pitch and the cup final, yet afterwards there has been years of misery, administration and scandals. Recently they've had a return to the elite but again only reached the headlines for less than illustrious achievements.

This has all been done without really upsetting, or more interestingly, hindering anybody else. Outside of West London you'll be hard pressed to find a supporter, and I (wrongly I admit) refer to them as London's forgotten club. That said, good old 'Arry, does his best to keep his mix and match of top flight journeymen footballers (and their accompanying sky high wage bill) on the back pages of your favourite tabloids.

So what is the best bit of West London you may ask, as you know I can't be referring to the view from the away supporters section of the Loftus Road Subbuteo grandstand. Well it's a little traditional boozer tucked right behind Notting Hill tube station.

Many Charlton fans took the disco boat along the Thames as has become almost SE7 tradition when playing in West London, but I believe police made this dock in Westminster Saturday. There were no boats for land loving me, as I took the circle line to the home of Portabello Road market along with many others, all of whom were looking for an antique bargain to take back home. Tucked behind the station though is The Uxbridge Arms, a pub time seems to have forgotten. A perfect pint of Tribute, a warming fire and a archetypal London landlady. A strong woman that certainly wouldn't take any mischief but would happily ply you with beer until either you could drink no more or the last bell was rung.

We left it as late as possible before taking the central line three stops and following the blue and white hoards to the ground where we must have had to walk round three sides of the place before finding entry. This was easier said than done. A bottleneck of supporters were herded through an army of stewards who frisked you once , then twice before finally allowing you past. I offered a third young steward the chance to pat  my pockets but he politely declined, ha ha, not one of them looked under my hat. A tip there for you youngsters keen on your flares etc. I do remember it being strict there in previous visits as back in the 90's I recall then Charlton drummer Mark Garvey being bundled to the floor by the men in hi-viz as he tried to carry his drum in.

If you thought entering was tough, you had no idea what treat was in store for us as we tried to escape!

The game itself had it's moments, Ben Hamer was called upon to make a couple of needy stops from distance and although Rangers superiority was obvious for all to see, they struggled to make a mark on the game.

Charlton played well, were organized and obviously stuck to their plan. It's just a shame the plan seemed to be to hold them to a goalless draw. Simon Church up front did was he does best and ran all afternoon but with little support it became clear we wouldn't score in a month of Sunday's. QPR were calm on the ball, never rushed, and showed real signs of being a top flight side again. Never has Bradley Pritchard looked more out of his depth.

The goal was a delight from Charlie Austin, struck cleanly it looked as good this morning on the small screen as it did at the time. In fact our only chance would have been if Cameron Stewart could produce something similar for us at the other end. At 0-0 our plan wasn't really working, at 0-1 it was defunct and we knew five minutes into the second half that Powell needed a change. It would be Pritchard and Church that came off, Harriott and Kermorgant on. We recognize the big Frenchman needs little convincing to fall to the ground but even on the unintentional occasions yesterday it was obvious little would be given our way; again we were unpopular with the man in the middle.

Joey Barton took remarkably little stick considering who he is, Rob Green, who as was frequently reminded had let his country down, certainly made up for it. Andy Johnson made a cameo appearance and again got his deserved share of flack, whilst the arrival of Shaun Wright-Phillips heralded  chorus after chorus of his brothers anthem, 'he's better than Shaun'. Great stuff. The stand out player for me though was the left back, a lad on loan from Spurs I am told. From where I stood, and granted, with rather failing eyesight, I thought I'd been beamed thirty years back in time and was watching the great George Berry!

Charlton can have no complaints, they did lose to a better side but certainly didn't disgrace themselves in any way. QPR however must wonder why, with stands so close to the pitch and with roofs surely designed to keep the noise in, have a support that hardly made a sound. Is that the worst of West London? It's certainly the same scenario up the road at Fulham.

No, the worst side of West London has to be the access, or lack of it. As I said before, getting in the ground was tough, getting out was a nightmare. The narrowest of concourses meant we all shuffled slowly through (at the times we weren't stationary) under the glare of stewards in a manner I can only assume would resemble prisoners at a concentration camp shuffling towards the 'showers' under the watchful eye of Nazi guard. On finally making it out onto the metal staircase down to the street there was a feeling of escaping and an urge to run in case I was captured and sent back in.

A couple of drinks in Clapham on the way home where my companion Jim found himself innocently caught amidst Chelsea - QPR urinal warfare rounded off another London derby defeat. I was feeling quite upbeat all things considered, then stupidly glanced at the league table. It's a little more concerning than I had realised. I don't believe it's too early to call Tuesday's visit of Doncaster a six pointer is it?

In typical Charlton fashion I think we'll rub salt in the wound midweek and come away victorious, just to burn all our Donny bridges once and for all. That's how football goes isn't it, but then come next Saturday and Ipswich and I'm certain normal service will be resumed.

Austin Maestro

Tired, dented, in need of some TLC, but keeps running and much loved. I had an Austin Maestro once, not the one pictured but the same colour and condition, it never really let me down, just frustrated me somewhat with it's lack of power and occasional backfiring. I gave it away in the end.

If the Charlton team resemble the running, the pitch certainly resembles the bodywork.

The Valley yesterday was graced with an Austin Maestro. Not parked on the touchline in the way the good old fashioned Invacar used to grace football stadiums in the seventies, no this one was screaming it's way into the net in front of the Jimmy Seed stand.

Charlie Austin was the scorer, the goal a masterclass in sublime finishing. Prior to yesterday Burnley had gone three games without scoring, these runs do tend to have a habit of finishing against The Addicks. The goal itself came out of nowhere, at a time when most were thinking of half time after a bit of a slow and tedious first forty five minutes. Those trying to beat the toilet queues missed a peach of a strike from some distance that would have beaten the best of keepers. Austin was a revolution at Swindon, I always thought Burnley had got themselves a real capture when he signed just over two years ago. He's averaged a goal every other game for The Clarets ever since!

Burnley seemed happy to sit back on their single goal advantage during the second period, but save for a late flurry with Morrison and then Cort staying forward and leading the line, Charlton continued to frustrate the home supporters.

With two months remaining, you'd be forgiven for thinking Charlton already had an air of 'end of season' about them. The home form (the worst in the division) has in effect killed off any slim hopes of a play-off challenge, if it wasn't for the worrying fact that the sides occupying the lower reaches of The Championship all seem to be picking up points, our season really would be all over now. We hark on about survival being the be all and end all of the campaign, but it would be lovely to finish with something to cheer, even another home victory would do. I thought (hoped) that our blueprinted last third of the season slump was something now consigned to the history books.

Chris Powell was brave with his team selection, Ben Hamer dropped to make way for David Button to make his league debut. With Solly and Stephens injured, and Kermorgant beginning his suspension, the starting eleven had a very different feel to it. Jon Obika got his first start and there was even places on the bench for the returning Andy Hughes and young Callum Harriott. Chris Powell could pick a team of high flying international superstars and I think they'd struggle to get a result, they'd certainly leave the pitch to a barrage of frustration from the boo boys.

I don't really believe the booing helps, it's not as if the players aren't giving their all, things just don't seem to be going our way. I can understand that supporters paying for tickets are annoyed and disappointed wanting to see their team win, but it's a touchy subject and I don't feel the boos are always aimed at anyone in particular, just a way to vent their irritation. Whether you agree with it or not, we have free speech and booing falls into that bracket. If you've paid for your ticket you're allowed to voice your opinion (within reason and common decency), for the moment anyway. The way modern football is going, that too may disappear sooner rather than later!

The bottom line is that at this level we fall short, money needs to be spent during the summer (if we have any) otherwise all the hard work put in by Powell and co will be in vain. I dread to think what would happen to the club if the unimaginable happened and we found ourselves back down in the third tier. Fortunately for us our next two fixtures are on the road so we have a chance to add to the points tally, albeit starting against a very in form Peterborough United on Tuesday evening.

No disrespect to The Posh but if they can get results in this division...............................