Heaven knows I'm miserable now......... (Again)

I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour...

And then it was three o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Tuesday night had been so low, nothing they could do to us this time would hurt like it did against Preston North End that evening. So now it's Monday, I've had a few more drunken hours and I have to wonder why I give valuable time to an owner who doesn't care if our club lives or dies.

I may not for much longer.

Sacking Guy Luzon was inevitable. Two three-nil defeats at home in the space of five days against Preston and Brentford is just so short of acceptable. The small squad, injuries, youngsters stepping into the breach, yes they are all factors any manager would face in his situation, but the fact remains that the football was so atrocious it was almost comical. Morgan Fox, Naby Sarr, Simon Makienok, Al-Hadji Ba, they've all been horrendous in either one or both of these games. There are other culprits, this list certainly isn't definitive. Professional footballers who spend the week practicing their trade, a management team that study the opposition and hone the skills of these full time sportsmen, and then come kick off it all goes out the window as we (at our own financial outlay) look on helplessly.

The thin squad is the only point from above that you could realistically blame Roland Duchâtelet for. Luzon picked those sides and oversaw training. Duchâtelet had to be seen to be taking some sort of action, and whether you believe managers are sacked too easily or not, in this modern game no other club would have kept faith in Luzon hoping we'd turn a corner. What he didn't need to do was follow it up with the appointment of yet another network friendly face.

Karel Fraeye was in full time employment in the third tier of Belgian football (Conference South?) yet arrived in South London in plenty of time to take today's training session as 'interim' head coach. Either the advertised short term of office is complete nonsense or Fraeye is the biggest yes man yet. And that may well be the case, for he was at the Valley before as part of José Riga's ill fated team and certainly knows the tight restrictions the owner has in place. It is not an appointment that even hints of  Duchâtelet being interested in turning the fortunes of the club around, but just him doing the bare minimum (and failing) to try and keep some sort of peace with us, the paying customers who I'm sure he despises, without upsetting the network apple cart.

He could look for a manager with true experience of the English game. He could promise to strengthen the thin squad when the next transfer window opens and spend some of the money he received from the sale of Standard Liege. He could even put Charlton Athletic up for sale. I'd take any and all of these.

There weren't too many interested parties when Slater and Jimenez put the club on the market, and now after nearly two years of Belgian reign it doesn't look a far better proposition, save for the playing surface, some plastic seats and a poxy sofa. I want Roland Duchâtelet, his puppet Katrien Meire and his under qualified coaches out of my club.  Surely Richard Murray knows someone in his address book who's on the lookout for a decent little football club? I shall plague the club with emails voicing my disgruntled opinions and I shall suggest to one and all that news of an empty Valley for the Sheffield Wednesday fixture will most definitely get back to network HQ. Voting with our feet in two weeks time could just light the touchpaper.

Right now I'm certainly not going to smile at people I'd much rather kick in the eye.

The Hart Of The Matter

The official club website has been enjoying an end of season break of its own of late, struggling to entice visitors with news of international youth call-ups and a half-arsed goal of the season competition grabbing the 'headlines'. It's slow to confirm anything at the best of times, even when we're in the height of the action so it's no surprise that most news regarding the club of late has been through press leaks from newspapers and other websites. Today though we got an official word on a move, unfortunately a move no true supporter of the club wanted.

With rumours flooding my twitter timeline of potential new homes for out of contract first team players and possible managerial candidates, the club announced today it's parting of the ways with Academy Director Paul Hart. This for me is potentially the most damaging thing in the long run that will happen to the club all summer, so in many ways I can sit back and think the worst is out of the way.

His assistant Steve Avory who has been involved with the Charlton academy for many years will take over as their jobs have been merged into one, and although both were invited to apply, Hart has opted for pastures new. His record for developing youngsters was second to none before he joined the club three years ago, and his work with the under 18's and under 21's here has been superb. This season alone, when the club seemed to get over excited with the use of loan players, we have seen five academy lads make their first team debut. Legacy in itself. Although I do of course wish Steve Avory the very best of luck in his new role I can't help but shed a tear on the talent that has left. Duchâtelet has made great noises about the importance of the academy, which is why breaking this team up seems so hard to understand. Surely when you've got the very best you do everything you can to hang on to it?

As predicted, José Riga's time at the club seems to be coming to an end. Distrusted at first, it would be wrong to say we had taken him to our hearts, but we all appreciated that he did the professional job expected of him and that he enjoyed his spell as the gaffer. The club of course have been tight lipped but a Belgian newspaper and even the BBC website have hinted that Bob Peeters, currently manager at Belgian club Waasland-Beveren will hold the post by the end of the week. Capped by Belgium at international level and having played for both Roda JC and Vitesse, Peeters will be more notably remembered by English fans for his spell up front for Millwall a decade ago.

Again, I shall wish the new man luck (should these reports hold an inkling of truth), and I will support him in his role if he shows he's more than competent, but I will also assume this is another part of Duchâtelet's master plan, of which I'm still to be won over. When he starts treating us like an important part of the club and not faceless customers, when he gives us answers that show honesty and personality, then I'll be more warming, but the quietness and evasiveness we've seen so far does nothing to quell my distrust. The ball is in his court as they say.

Player wise we're still very much in the dark. Hamer is supposedly off to warm the bench at Leicester, a host of others out of contract are being linked with some team or another whilst the news of contracts to the backbone of the first team is nonexistent. A week ago twitter was awash with news of Dorian Dervite's exit from the club. Now he would have been the first player I'd have coaxed into signing on the dotted line.

Oh well, at least we've signed Kurtis Cumberbatch, a winger, from Watford. Steve Avory will work well with him. Bob Peeters will have to wait a little longer I suspect to see who he'll get to work with.

@Cally_messi

I presume our young midfielder was being a tad tongue-in-cheek when choosing a suitable twitter name for himself. Perhaps on the other hand his spelling really is atrocious, a careless 'I' where a 'Y' should sit (a consequence of too many Barcelona appearances on our televisions). He was don't forget a teenager still only two months ago, although I'm afraid I cannot quote his mother here as to the tidiness of his bedroom. If as I suspect it is merely a jest, a wishful comparison with one of the best footballers of a generation, young Callum certainly tried to live up to the name last night. The real Messi might just have give Harriott a pat on the back and an appreciative smile too.

This was a chance to seal our own survival, a game in hand and opportunity to mathematically savor Saturday's trip to Blackpool as little more than an enjoyable day out at the seaside. But it would take much more effort and much more concentration than they showed against Blackburn. Watford have already proved they are no walkovers and frustratingly they had nothing but pride to play for, no pressure and freedom to just enjoy their football. Lucky old them, back on planet Charlton my nerves were in tatters all day.

José Riga's starting eleven for the match saw a welcomed return for Lawrie Wilson playing in front of Solly whilst once again there wasn't a Duchâtelet signing included. If Riga was going to complete the job on the day he was going to do it with Powell's team. Cally Messi retained his place even after a shocker against Blackburn three days earlier. Now I'd have probably dropped him, as proud as I am of youth academy players starring in the first team I've been more than critical of Harriott (and others) of late. It's been said on numerous occasions before that my working knowledge of football team selection is atrocious and once again you've all been proved right. Harriott was tremendous last night working hard and scoring two goals his Argentinian namesake would have been proud of. For the first he collected the ball just outside the centre circle, had two defenders stand off him as he ran goal-wards and unleashed his shot from the edge of the area past the reach of the keeper to put the Addcks in front. His second and the teams third was a venomous volley on the end of a perfect Wilson cross. In between these skipper Johnnie Jackson had also found the net to regain Charlton's lead after Watford had equalized on the hour. A cross from another young starlet Morgan Fox found Jackson who looked more likely to fall over than score but he held his footing long enough to beat a defender and the keeper which resulted in another typical celebration where he looks like he may just explode.

It was a good night for goals, the solitary Watford score a stunning strike from the edge of the box after some delightful ball control, the final shot almost bursting the roof of the net. Unfortunately such skill was overshadowed by some of their other attributes. Watford were definitely a physically strong team but too often that advantage was used unlawfully as they started to get flustered. There was little surprise when the full back received his marching orders after a second booking although his protests and almost a refusal to leave the pitch will have done his case further harm. It certainly didn't seem to dampen the spirits of Watford's young 'ultras' who relentlessly sung for the whole ninety minutes and then all the way back to the centre of London on the train home. Full of enthusiasm, there must have been bin bags full of empty Red Bull tins left outside The Valley this morning for the dustmen.

The only other downside of the evening (excluding once again the obligatory substandard match officiating) was the activity in the East Stand during the first half. A reported heart attack, we plainly saw chest pumping, I can only echo everybody else and say my prayers are with the individual and his family right now as we wait for the club to announce an update in due course.

I've no doubt there was the usual last home game lap of honour, I didn't hang around as the idea of such a ceremony seemed almost hypocritical although I have seen the You Tube videos of both Riga and Jackson addressing the crowd. I was far to keen to celebrate in my own fashion, with a pint in my hand.

No matter what your thoughts on the Belgian ownership and all that it entails you cannot deny Riga has done his job well. He knew which games he could gain points in and which he couldn't during a far too hectic season run in. The Barnsley game was probably the only real hiccup in his plan and he certainly got the best out of a poor Championship squad. I'm just thrilled he did it in the main with Chris Powell's team although it again highlights the owners shortcomings; obviously different rules if one of your own disrespect an order.

Many of the team waved a Valley farewell last night, the squad will look entirely different come August for sure whether that be for the good or not but for once I'm not going to dwell on such gloomy scenarios. As I tweeted last night, Charlton had put me through nine months of pain and misery and then went and kissed me like I'd never been kissed before. I was jubilant to the point of ecstasy, it almost seemed like it was my Charlton again. I cheered, I sang, not in acceptance of any new regime but because my club had once again given me a reason, the players, the supporters (who certainly deserve credit for their performance). 

Just for an evening I didn't want to give Roland a second thought, merely to toast a good victory and our Championship survival. And it felt refreshingly good!

No Nay Never

Not just a popular Burnley blog, not just a successful young thoroughbred, not even just words to one of the most famous drinking songs of all time. No, nay, never, here refers to a far off time when two unlikely events won't happen in South East London. First up it illuminates a time when one of our strikers may just find themselves on the score sheet, secondly, it's a bold proclamation underlining when Roland Duchâtelet can buy my support. We'll start with the first.

Burnley came to The Valley in second spot and looking very much contenders to win promotion automatically along with Leicester City. Having not lost in the league since Boxing Day, it was obvious to all that the team to finally end this unbeaten run was going to have to be a free-flowing and high goal scoring team. Not Charlton Athletic, not even on the back of our three clean sheets and a rare win. Goals haven't been an issue for the Clarets however, both Sam Vokes and Danny Ings taking the bull by the horns and proving to be the most exciting partnership in the league. Even with Ings out injured the task ahead of Charlton was daunting, yet bizarrely my journey up was filled with anticipation and hope. For all that, we had our Charlton back on Tuesday didn't we? The place was rocking last time I was there and we were due an upset.

The only thing rocking yesterday was the train on the final stage of the journey from Blackheath to Charlton. At London Bridge there wasn't a Burnley fan to be seen, surely this relatively small town club had brought a few down with them? Oh, had they! I'm led to believe that the club chairman (note - part of a board that are Burnley supporters first and foremost) had promised to buy each travelling supporter a pint if they came to one particular ale house in Blackheath. A huge gesture that seemed to be greatly accepted judging by the hoards that sang their way onto the train for one last stop. Suddenly I found myself wedged in the middle of about forty big lads, all of whom had consumed far more than the one pint bought for them. They were in fine voice, they used the roof of the carraige as a drum but were good natured, the language was inoffensive and they didn't scare any of the non football commuters. Good boys having a good time, a credit to the club.

The match itself deteriorated the further it went on. Simon Church had a great opportunity to give the home side the lead as he beat the last defender but a weak effort straight at the keeper was the best he could muster when he needed to deliver. Charlton played some fluid football in the middle of the pitch, Poyet again outstanding passing the ball around like an old pro. For all the posession though, something was obviously lacking, a threat on goal. It was second half substitute Astrit Ajdarević (why does our best player not start) who was the only red shirt to come close to scoring with a fine effort once the game was in effect already over.

Burnley scored their first in the 38th minute, a soft goal to concede and one which meant we went in at the interval slightly undeservingly behind. The goal would you believe was scored by Ashley Barnes as he got between two defenders to nod home the very impressive Junior Stanislas' cross. It was the former Brighton strikers first goal for the club, he was only in the starting eleven due to Ings injury. That's a strength in depth we can only dream of!

In all honesty Burnley were a very good team. Their ball control, their vision and their professionalism all shone through yesterday and they were deserved winners but a little luck certainly helped them on their way. The next goal came from the spot with the second half barely ten minutes old. Vokes was brought down by Dervite on the edge of the box. The striker certainly flew through the air with extenuated grace, the defender certainly caught the Burnley player. But nine out of ten officials would have given that as a free kick just the other side of the line. We got a lot of decisions going our way for ten minutes after that, I feel the referee knew he'd made the wrong call.

The penalty was expertly dispatched and with only one goal in the past five games to our name, the match as a competition had ended. There was a third goal right at the death but I'm afraid to say I was already walking up Floyd Road by this point in search of a beer to drown my sorrows in. It could have been more, Ben Hamer was in fine form considering we shipped three goals. Once again showing the owner why Chris Powell was so adamant that he played the bearded keeper. Before the game yesterday we had the seventh tightest defence in the division; sitting in twenty first place. It's obvious to one and all where the problem lays. So why would you want to start with a rookie goalkeeper? Why would you stick with the same non performing strikers? Why would you constantly ignore a young striker that you yourself brought into the club? Why would you replace the manager you sacked with someone who's gift to the game is his defensive tactual awareness and skill?

It was widely noted how Riga's name was sung on Tuesday night. Not by me it wasn't. I'm behind him simply because he's the manager of my football team but it's far too early in the relationship to want to invite the chap round to dinner. Yes, his body action at the end of the Bournemouth game was encouraging but so far, four games in, the only real difference I can see between the two managers is Riga's earlier use of the bench. I'm a long way from persuaded that he's the man to guide us to beat the drop, and I'm even less convinced he knows how to address the scoring problem.

I've been supporting Charlton for over thirty years. Over that time the club have made some dreadful decisions and got an awful lot of things wrong. But they've also got a lot of things right because they cared about me. And you. They respected and applauded your support, the club realised that we, the fans, were the club. Right now it feels like somebody has just come and bought that. Bought thirty years of my life and tossed it away without a thought. No amount of enticement with hospitality packages (keeping the potential revenue inside the club and away from local hostelries) , price structure reorganization offering me huge savings on my season ticket will soften this hurt. And Roland will have to do an awful lot more than offer to buy me a pint on an away day to win me over. The club was for sale, we weren't. Things were far from good under Slater and Jimenez but they were purely in it for the money and certainly didn't appear to want the club to tread water and just tick over. We won't be content to just be a feeder club for the flagship of the empire, a testing ground for European employees that need match fitness, a club that will settle for League One obscurity. We need to build on the Powell legacy and not just survive but grow into an established Championship football club, and we won't do that unless we start scoring goals. Over to you José Riga, make us all want to sing your name every week.

The King is dead. Long live the King!

José Riga's red and white army sang the Covered End as the AFC Bournemouth players stood shell-shocked in the ninety something minute of a game they were always going to take at least a point from. It was, don't forget, the first goal they had conceded in a month.

With all the euphoria around me from scoring a sudden death winner, and it not coming from the suspected source, new recruit Jonathan Obika, I took a second to listen to the Charlton faithful. It was an odd sound. Chris Powell's song for sure but they'd only gone and changed the words. Too soon? Weren't we still all in mourning? A little like the girl who's reputation goes before her, three points and we're obviously anybody's.

I had boycotted both Huddersfield and Millwall, yes work had got in the way of both but I didn't lose any sleep over it. It wasn't that Powell wasn't there, I just struggled with the speed of the new "yes man's" arrival, the underhand tactics and the general unpleasant feeling about and around the club. I was all for erecting a picket line and shouting scab at you as you went through the turnstiles. But, I suppose curiosity got the better of me, and this new chap does wear a suit on match day so he can't be all that bad. Plus of course there was the added bonus of Yann Kermorgant returning to London, the chance to sing 'we all dream of a team of Kermorgant's' at old Roland. Mischief won the day; I boarded the train.

As matches go, it was very ordinary for over ninety minutes. Another goalless draw looked a certainty, especially when Danny Green hit the upright for us and their best opportunity was a foot too high. The second half saw a comedy of errors in the visitors box as the ball point blank refused to enter the net. A good Jackson free kick, albeit helped by Jordan Cousins's superb falling over distraction produced a corner that led to the Covered End Choir's hasty new remix. The ball floated in, Dorian Dervite rose above good friend Kermorgant, who's feet were firmly planted on the floor, and powerfully nodded the ball home. Our first goal in eight years. Or thereabouts. Conspiracy theorists have had a field day today about the French Connection!

We never did sing for a team of French strikers (in fact at the end we had three recognized front men on the pitch in Sodall, Obika and Church), but the former favourite did get the reception he deserved. As he warmed up in the north west corner he waved and a lump came to the throats of all. But, as hoards have tweeted of late, we move on.

Another good performance from Diego Poyet must have cemented his departure from the club this summer, but does highlight the fortunes of other youngsters. Before the pin up Uruguayan broke into the first team it was Cousins who took all the plaudits. Ever since I feel his performances have slipped somewhat. If it was down to me I'd rest him for a while in the hope it would revive some of the hunger in his game. And Callum Harriott; I'd rest him even longer. Along with Danny Green, our wide men looked very League One last night, when they departed for Obika first and then Sodall, we suddenly looked like we possibly knew where the box, if not the goal, was. Yes, you read right, our (Bolton's) Marvin actually noticeably improved our attacking options, words I thought I'd never utter. Perhaps under the new regime we have turned a corner after all.

This was a game in hand, never a more important three points have we earned this season. Out of the bottom three, five points out of nine and three clean sheets for Riga, optimism has made a welcomed return. Any doubt we may have harboured that the players would feel aggrieved and pine for Chris Powell was extinguished as we saw them rejoice at the end. I watched Riga hug them like he'd been their manager for three years rather than three matches. This silver haired fellow in the whistle has I believe caught the bug. I think there may just be a little bit of Charlton in him and that'll do for me!

The End Of An Era

Today was always going to happen eventually. In some ways, having heard the events of recent weeks and the final explosion prior to the FA Cup match Sunday, I'm surprised it took as long as it did. Deep down though I don't think any of us were prepared for Chris Powell's exit from The Valley.

Whether the lovable gaffer was/is a club legend remains a topic for debate, but there are three things nobody can deny. Number one, he is probably the nicest man you'll ever find in the game. Number two, he's a bright young manager learning his trade and has more than enough potential to become a great manager. Number three, he's been treated unfairly and unjustly by Roland Duchâtelet.

There is no question he's got it wrong from time to time, just look at that game at Wigan, but he was paid to manage the football side, the playing side, of the business. That was his job title and job description. He may very well have failed to save us from relegation, heaven knows he's already worked wonders with next to no budget, and if he wasn't who he is we probably wouldn't be angry at his departure. Sacking a man through either incompetence in his job, or a need for a new direction is fine. Not letting him do his job, then sacking him because he complains is something else altogether.

Roland Duchâtelet himself said the money side of things were fine, it was the footballing side that created problems. A big reason for this was the owner sticking his oar in. He doesn't treat Charlton as an independent football club, he treats it as part of a footballing dynasty and it's very clear where we stand in the hierarchy. He is quickly taking our identity from us, has no passion or love for the club and sees Charlton as merely a stepping stone in the ultimate success of his flagship, Standard Liege. Why else would a businessman with no tactical on pitch experience tell the man he pays to look after such events how to do his job? It's not only laughable, it's ludicrous.

José Riga was today seen at the training ground hours before the club announced he was appointed as Powell's replacement. Quick work? The Belgian who has worked at Standard Liege surprise surprise had, I suspect, been waiting near his phone ever since Duchâtelet arrived in London for the promised call. Obviously a 'yes man' he will undoubtedly be in Duchâtelet's pocket when it comes to team selection. I heard a rumour from a goalkeeping coach that  Yohann Thuram-Ulien was brought here for match time in an effort to make the French World Cup squad. It's just one example of what to expect. I've no problem with who plays as long as they are there on merit. I guess that was Powell's argument too.

Chris Powell has treated us to a wonderful spell at the club getting us out of League One and giving us plenty of memories from towering wins but that is now all history; the swinging from the Hillsborough crossbar already seems an age ago. A new chapter is well and truly underway now, one that I will still follow but that already leaves a nasty taste in the mouth. And to think we thought we had it bad with Slater and Jimenez!

It's all rather emotional, I've felt dejected all day. I feel like my relationship with the club will never be quite the same again. I knew there were darker days to come, I just couldn't comprehend how much they would hurt. It feels like the heart and soul has been removed and boxed up in storage somewhere; we can just hope that one day somebody will find that box, blow the dust off it and return it to us. It's our Charlton and we want it back.