Viking revival

For those not in the know, we are currently enjoying a very large Mod revival. The clothes, the haircuts, the music and the scooters haven't been this popular for half a century. But then everything keeps on coming back, it just needs a little publicity; who'd have ever thought the baker boy cap would enjoy such a resurgence (especially south of Watford), and that particular item can give thanks to the superb Peaky Blinders television series for it's new found popularity. After Saturday's game against Hull City, don't be surprised if Viking helmets become de rigueur in SE7.

It was very much the tale of two Nordic explorers, Simon Makienok and Johann Berg Gudmundsson. The big Dane scored his first goal for the club whilst the tricky Icelandic wide man scored a last minute winner after earlier missing the opportunity to put the game to bed.

Makienok hadn't looked much like a Charlton hero when he first arrived at the Valley. A big imposing man, he struggled to make that advantage count and looked far too soft in the challenge. But game by game he's improved, to the point where the North Stand's rather tongue in cheek shout of 'Leaburn' has almost disappeared. The occasional header still goes off at an array of unprescribed angles and Usain Bolt he most certainly is not, but he's a target man for when we break and that's been missing for some time now.

I had always said his first goal celebration was going to be something elaborate, I'd secretly expected (hoped for) a Metallica style air guitar solo, it wasn't quite James Hetfield but we got so much more than an axeman impersonation. The roar of a lion as his hair was set free, falling to his knees on the way back to the half way line, getting there and again raising his arms skywards (as we later found out in homage to his mother), then once play had resumed there was still time for a quick fist pump! The man has a battle cry of a true warrior, the best (and most prolonged) goal celebration I've seen at the Valley, you can keep your backflips and somersaults. If you're interested, he'd pounced at the near post to get on the end of his fellow Nordic seafaring comrades cross to score the goal, but what followed outshone it in every way possible.

The goal came near the start of the second half, the first had been truly forgettable and had given no indication of what we were in store for. If Hull are truly one of the promotion favourites then we've nothing to fear this season. Other than the now traditional end of match nerves we outplayed them in every department looking keener and sharper both on and off the ball. Gudmundsson had perfect opportunity to double the lead when he broke through and was one on one with the keeper but failed to capitalise in a true Tucudean moment, while young Karlan Ahearne-Grant who had replaced Ceballos midway through the first half was desperate to add to his goal against Dagenham & Redbridge and seal the victory shooting whenever he had sight of goal. It wasn't to be and a second league home win was to be snatched away from us, or so we thought.

Hull had given us a couple of warning shots, one of which hitting the upright as we struggled for the first time in the game to keep the ball and move it forwards up the pitch. Sure enough as Charlton is Charlton the visitors pulled level with just sixty seconds remaining of normal time, Pope in the addicks goal stopping a fine shot but unable to gather it and Abel Hernandez knocking in the rebound. On the whole an undeserved point for the Tigers but lessons on professionalism to be learnt. Eight minutes of stoppage time were only going to affirm our disappointment, Hull again dominant in attack and once again getting the ball in the back of the net only to spot the linesman's flag saving the day.

Plenty of Charlton supporters had already started their journey home when the Nordic pair once again pillaged in the Hull half and pulled out a 98th minute winner. This time the Dane was provider heading the ball into the path of Gudmundsson to nod home for a rare headed goal. The place just erupted. Luzon ran from the dugout like a crazed man and jumped on the pile of red shirts mobbing the goalscorer, right in front of those on the fan sofa who had place of honour to watch the celebrations. I'd have joined in if it had been me  pouncing off that couch, and no doubt I'd also have been sent off alongside our manager to watch the last couple of kicks in the stand.

It was that type of moment you only ever get once or twice a season, I walked out the ground feeling like we'd either just been promoted or reached the cup final. We've seen two of last seasons Premier League clubs at the Valley this month and beaten both of them, not to mention two great away points at Derby and Forest. Not bad for a club that's reportedly relegation fodder!

I know kids designed them, but who's for replacing the new knight and robin mascots with Hagar the Horrible from now on?

The Guessing Game

You can say what you like about the Belgian regime, but there are always those worse off than yourselves. And they came to the Valley on Saturday, in droves too. Leeds United have always had large (and in the main, good) support, whether travelling from Yorkshire or London based and once again they filled the Jimmy Seed to support what is in all honesty right now, a shambles of a club. But I'm not in the mood to start pulling apart football club owners. They came to the capital, got bladdered and made plenty of noise prior to the the match, then created a great atmosphere for three quarters of the game, only to venture home far quieter.

On arrival at a very sunny London Bridge I fancied I just had time for a very quick pint to quell my thirst in the Grapes before heading to Charlton, rather than suffering the generic lager inside the ground which was the other, slightly less appealing, alternative. As I made my way up St Thomas Street I had to dodge two very young lads dripping burger sauce down their Sergio track tops as they expressed their wit and charm on every female walking past them. With my shoes free from relish, I continued my journey to find their older travelling ensemble swamping the pub. In good voice and swaying (although not from song) I realised that the plastic glass of piss in SE7 suddenly seemed so sensible compared to a thirty minute struggle to the bar through, what would inevitably be, my new found chirpy train companions. From the tales of others, I gather these were not the only merry Leeds fans in London. Those at Greenwich had no idea what side of the tracks they needed to be to get a train to Charlton, and that was obviously worthy of a song in itself.

Great numbers to see a rather meaningless mid table end of season affair indeed. Unlike the home areas, which in my part of the Upper North seemed full of empty red seats. And who can blame the absent, the team have certainly been dreaming of their summer holidays since at least Good Friday, why shouldn't we?

During the first half Charlton had the look of a pre-season friendly about them as Leeds dominated, creating plenty of chances to fire themselves in front. A combination of poor finishing and a stunning penalty save from 'player of the year' front runner Stephen Henderson kept the lacklustre Addicks in it for majority of the first half but (thankfully?) Leeds did go into the break a goal to the good with Steve Morison's superb volley direct from a corner. Sometimes it needs an opposition goal to get us going. It certainly needed something on Saturday.

Whether it was the shock of going behind, the arrival of Gudmundsson for Eagles, or an uplifting message from Luzon in the dressing room, the second half was a different ball game from Charlton's perspective. A stunning ball from the Icelandic international found Tony Watt free on the left of goal to volley home, and he came close himself five minutes later shooting from distance, Igor Vetokele winning a penalty from the resulting keeper's parry. It was a great burst of energy from the striker to get to the loose ball matching a similar burst earlier in the game where he lunged out in similar fashion for a booking. Yoni Buyens was as cool as the proverbial cucumber slotting away the spot kick. As good as he is from twelve yards, he's really struggled with the pace of the English game. It turned out a good victory, three points snatched from the grip of defeat yet, except for the last twenty minutes, we were debating what would be an acceptable time to leave and frequent a public house. You'd take tenth place over a relegation dogfight every day, but I'm craving some true excitement and hysteria. That final game against Bournemouth could be hard to watch. Good luck to them and all that, but I don't really want to stand by and witness a party I'm not invited to.

When it isn't going well on the pitch, as it wasn't during the first forty five minutes on Saturday, my mind tends to wander. I started to ponder on which of our European bench warmers would hang around and which would once again board the fairground ride. Then there are those homegrown lads who have broken into the first eleven, what would become of them in the Summer? One or two could get snapped up and enjoy a big money contract. Gudmundsson and, er, well Gudmundsson must be on a few clubs shortlists after his efforts in SE7 this season. Of course there is always talk of the big boys watching our youngsters but I'd be shocked if anyone really came in for the likes of Morgan Fox. I watched him and him alone for about fifteen minutes of the first half and was genuinely surprised as to how much room he let the visitors have to attack on their right hand side.

I fully expect the majority to move on, and it's a certainly a shame to have to say that this really doesn't bother me. I've not easily bonded with any of them. Yes, Igor and Tony Watt have given the crowd something to cheer of late, but they're definitely no Andy Hunt. Chris Solly isn't a patch on the player he was, and the one true Charlton spirit in the squad, skipper Johnnie Jackson can't have long left at this level. I do ask the question though, that with the revolving network door surely a permanent fixture in the foreseeable future, will we ever truly love again as we did with the likes of Rufus and Robinson? Is Johnnie Jackson the last of the line in this respect?

On the whole I'll miss the majority of them about as much as I'll miss that rotten kit we've played in all season. Thank goodness that has now made it's last appearance at the Valley. Maybe Gudmundsson will still be here in August, maybe he won't, but I guarantee he wont reach Johnny Robinson's three hundred odd appearances. As Tennyson quite rightly said, "It's better to have loved and lost than to never to have loved at all."

New Look

Let's face it, we all know more than a handful of people who could do with a new look. It's not being snobbish, some people just need overhauling. There's that ghastly Snog Marry Avoid? programme for example that finds some of this islands most disastrous creations and wipes them clean before attempting to instill some self respect into the person beneath the costume. As a less extreme variant on the theme, there are a host of presenters with their own daytime television shows just trying to wring a tiny amount of pizazz from the plainest of middle aged women. Ninety nine times out of a hundred it works, it's 'having the faith to step out of familiarity and comfort and march on into freedom'. A sentence I stole from this mornings sermon as it happens.

It doesn't need to be the whole Vincent Tanesque make over of course, that is complete misuse of the word freedom and far more steps backwards than you can count. That's when you crave familiarity, a little like the times I'm in the shop who's name I borrowed for the title of this piece. My wife, like the vast majority of young women, can lose themselves in such an emporium for days on end ogling at the sparkling delights hanging in front of them (occasionally with me traipsing behind, knuckles dragging on the ground overladen with carrier bags, and a face that looks like it's just heard Crystal Palace have won the cup).

These bargain priced goodies may appear wonderful on first impression but once they've lost both shape and colour, not to mention a handful of sequins in the drum of our washing machine, they are reallocated to the 'indoor only' slouching pile as we head back into town to continue breaking rocks  our search for glamour. It's pointless revamping without improving. It's also pointless revamping beyond your budget, but all clubs can spend wisely.

As I saw last weekend, Sutton United didn't need the whole McCoy, even without a makeover I'd have always snogged them as opposed to have avoided them. A new covered terrace and dugouts aside, just the new perimeter fence on its own would have been enough to transform the place. How many of you travel on a train every day where one commuter could really do with a bath? Small steps and all that. Last season I found myself falling out of love with the professional game, but a facelift at Charlton has really captured my interest and hopefully my heart again.

The World Cup certainly played it's part and reinvigorated my passion in the higher end of the market, but a lack of pre season friendlies that were accessible to me means I've yet to witness first hand any of what I've read. One trip to Sutton United and two Horley Town friendlies meant I've picked up pretty much where I left off in May. In fact, three days after the World Cup final I found myself at Redhill witnessing Horley run out in the same kit they've worn since the first time I saw them, sponsors names long since worn off along with any pizazz these garments may have once possessed.

If Horley had a little of the Compo about them, I'm afraid to say Charlton had been resembling Jeremy Clarkson. Never fashionable in the first place, they were now almost reveling in their dishevelment. Despite the fact they still felt they were a class above everyone they met they were, in truth, just spouting bullshit. Clarkson to a tee. Snog Marry Avoid? For the first time in my life I was drifting dangerously close to avoiding them.

Photo courtesy of Charlton Life

Roland Duchâtelet thankfully appears to have done a 'Gok Wan' and stripped us back to our naked self before highlighting the areas that needed attention and dressing us appropriately both on and off the pitch. The pitch itself, for so long a laughing stock, has been ripped up, the damaged drainage systems rebuilt and a new playing surface grown that looks in the summer sunshine good enough to grace a palace gardens. If the Wimbledon fortnight hadn't already come and gone it would have been fit to host the gentleman's final.


Surrounding the pitch the faded red seats have been ripped out (including my broken one) and replaced with new, plus a lick of paint on the staircases too. Behind the stands the concourse has a new catering company to dish out the food and beverages on a match day, finally moving us out of the dark ages with what was in total honesty overpriced crap you wouldn't feed your dog. Even the six foot club badge next to Nike's superstore has finally been given a well received spruce up and the foot of grime running along the bottom of the wall below it cleaned off. Once again it looks like we have a stadium that belongs in the top flight.

Speaking of Nike (did I mention I read the excellent Admiral kit man book this summer?), the finishing touch in appearance is the chevron inspired new home kit from their catalogue. I have to say I'm not too sure about this, not because of the amount of white, or even because of the quantity of sponsorship logos, but because it looks far too much like a rugby design for me. If that wasn't enough to stomach, we've been treated to that awful Lucozade inspired Barcelona number for our third shirt. I realise we don't carry the clout for bespoke kits but did the club even get to see the full catalogue or just the page Nike wanted us to? But it wouldn't be my blog if I didn't find something to complain about, and as mantras go, 'it's not the shirt but those that wear it' is both well used and relevent. And this is where the new look moves into overdrive.

First team wise it started with Yoni Buyens. A 'box to box' midfielder with Europa League experience, he has arrived on a year long loan deal from his native Belgium. I'm guessing it wasn't new manager Bob Peeters but our Roland that sealed the deal considering Yoni's parent club is Standard Liege. A Belgium under 21 international, Buyens has close to one hundred appearances to his name at Liege and is supposedly both very highly regarded and sought after. Quite why he has moved to our corner of London for a year seems odd unless you presume it's to see how well he adapts before a later big money move to the English game.

Yoni Buyens

Whereas last season Chris Powell emulated a thousand husbands on Christmas Eve, waiting until opportunity almost passed him by before panic buying the best of whatever was left on the shelf, Bob Peeters was quick to address the lack of firepower this summer making Igor Vetokele the second signing in a matter of days. A powerful forward he arrived on a five year deal from Danish side FC Copenhagen where he won a league title. Born in Angola, there is of course a Belgian connection as he started his career at Gent before playing under Peeters at Cercle Brugge. Another player with competitive European experience he has gone on to win full caps for Angola so be prepared to lose him from time to time for international call ups and possible Africa Cup of Nations duty.

Igor Vetokele

#WelcomeFranck became the clubs latest twitter gimmick when attacking midfielder Franck Moussa became the third first team signing of the summer. A bit of a hero in what has been of late a traumatized Coventry City and a rare shining light in the currently nomadic football club. After impressing at Southend he earned himself a deal at Leicester City but failed to make the grade and spent most of his time out on loan before switching to Coventry. Don't fear though, Franck was born in Brussels and started his youth career with Anderlecht and is therefore eligible to play for Charlton through birth. Expect him to look towards the heavens and give thanks when he scores.

Franck Moussa

Young talent seemed to be spinning through the revolving door as hot young prospects both came and went. Diego Poyet finally left the club for West Ham for which we are due some compensation. His departure, and the way it came about, divided fans but none could be surprised that the clubs current player of the year was moving on. Nobody really expected to see him pull the red Charlton shirt on again. Michael Morrison however delighted the Valley faithful by committing to the club for another two years. With Richard Wood and Leon Cort both seeking pastures new, an experienced head was needed to partner our vice captain in the heart of the defence. Enter André  Bikey-Amougou. The former Cameroon international has signed up for two years on a free transfer after being released by Greek club Panetolikos. Known to English fans from his time at Reading, Burnley and Middlesbrough, I asked Reading blog The Tilehurst End what we could expect from the big defender. They told me he'd give me plenty to write about and although decent on his day, he can be a loose cannon when the mood takes. Interestingly they neither could find the Belgian connection.

André  Bikey-Amougou

If it was experience the club looked for, signing number five took the game to a whole new level. The most famous Israeli international to have graced a field of play, Tal Ben Haim. Once moving from Chelsea to Manchester City for five million pounds, the defender had most of his success at Bolton Wanderers and then Portsmouth, before finishing his time in England with short spells at both West Ham and QPR. In the season between his time at Loftus Road and arriving at The Valley he became acquainted with Roland at Standard Liege...

Tal Ben Haim

On the same day that news broke of Ben Haim, a young winger arrived to take the place of the departed Danny Green who seems to enjoy the void that is Milton Keynes. Johann Berg Gudmundsson, a 23 year old Icelandic full international was a free agent after his contract at Dutch club AZ Alkmaar expired. Having spent his younger teenage years in London with both the Chelsea and Fulham youth teams, his European connections had until this point avoided Belgium. Having committed to Charlton for two years I think he may be a prime candidate to find himself loaned around the network.

 Johann Berg Gudmundsson

Number seven in the list is a striker, and no surprise, a Duchâtelet network member. George Tucudean. The 23 year old Romanian has signed for three years from Standard Liege having failed to really make the grade there. His most successful time has come during two spells at Dinamo Bucuresti in his homeland where he tasted domestic cup success. How this form travels to England remains to be seen.

George Tucudean

The eighth and final (to date) signing is a much needed goalkeeper. After Ben Hamer's departure to Leicester the custody of the goalmouth appeared to fall to young Nick Pope. As good a prospect as the youngster is, just ask York City supporters, it was clearly evident that he isn't yet ready for regular Championship football. Whether Stephen Henderson is or not is only known at the moment for certainty to Bob Peeters. A Republic of Ireland under 21 international, Henderson has had limited experience at this level with Bristol City, Portmouth, Ipswich Town, and a couple of games for Bournemouth last season. With no Belgian connection, the keeper states his reason for joining Charlton is the chance to link up once again with goalkeeping coach Ben Roberts who he worked with during his spell at Yeovil Town.

So that's the new look side. In the same way Chris Powell took a new squad abroad, this squad has also had a short stay in Spain with a couple of needed victories after a poor time in Belgium for the Duchâtelet cup and disappointing defeats at both Welling and Ebbsfleet. With two more first team friendly trips to Peterborough and Portsmouth left before the season kicks off in less than two weeks time at Brentford you've not got long to memorize these faces and names.

The club may have had a huge makeover since you last walked down Floyd Road, but who can argue it needed it. I'm still not fully convinced about Roland Duchâtelet, and I still don't think being part of a network is the way to go unless you're the biggest fish in that pond, but I cannot deny I'm getting rather excited about the start of the season.

The World Cup was just an appetiser...