Cards for all occasions

Happy football supporters making their way to the match. I've no doubt this picture was re-enacted countless times yesterday, just with replica shirts replacing the rosettes, except that is in my world. In my world everyone else is getting along just fine making good time and drinking pre match ale, unaware of the trials and trepidations the Good Lord has put my way.

A fortnight ago, whilst we were in Brighton, London Bridge was shut for the week for extensive engineering works and I stupidly never gave it another thought. Common sense should have told me more was to come, and if I'd researched it in advance I'd have spotted the glitch immediately. But I'm not like that, I'll buy a can of beer, amble to the station without giving delays or cancellations a second thought and until now that laid back attitude has served me well enough. So what's changed? No Southern trains to London Bridge on weekends, that's what. And ditto every weekend for the foreseeable future too.

I don't knock off work until one o'clock on a Saturday, and that's not voluntary overtime, it's part of my regular working week just like it was for your Grandparents and their parents before them; It's why we play on a Saturday afternoon in the first place. The trouble is, the first train leaves my little station in the sticks at nearly half one, and this does not give me time to run across London to arrive at London Bridge from the opposite direction. Yesterday my train pulled into Charlton at sixteen minutes past three, I missed not only the goal but Charlton's best football of the game!

I'm in desperate need of persuading my boss to let me knock off half an hour early on matchdays and making it up during the week. Feel free to petition him for me, otherwise I may not see the opening twenty minutes of another game this season unless I start going to Selhurst and that's not an option.

When I did arrive I saw a friend on the concourse hailing the wonderful football he'd just witnessed us play. Get yourself up there Al, it's breathtaking. Sitting in the back row of the Upper North and climbing every last stair in the house, it frequently is! We may well have started the better, received a deserved penalty (just as I was rolling into Deptford), which Buyens duly dispatched with distinction, but my aura of stress must have shifted itself to the pitch as Charlton seemed adamant to make the rest of the afternoon as difficult as possible for themselves.

Apart from the on pitch activities I also missed the David Whyte tenth minute tribute. Whyte, just a couple of months younger than myself, had always been a troubled man even when he graced The Valley pitch. Depression and a lifestyle that didn't conduce itself to longevity of life didn't stop the striker from making a name for himself in SE7 with some superb goals. I always remember a home game to Oldham Athletic near the start of the 96/97 season. The one and only time I ever sat in the Jimmy Seed stand. It was a drab 0-0 until Whyte struck near the end and ran in front of us to celebrate. I swear blind he (whilst hugging Ricky Otto) looked me straight in the eye and winked. At least that's what I'm telling my grandchildren.

Watford played exactly the game I expected, one of the best sides in the division their football could be superb if it wasn't spoilt by the needless carping and polluting. The moaning and fouling has more than just European undertones and has become synonymous with the Hertfordshire club. Fortunately we are a little behind them when it comes to fielding another clubs reserve side and hopefully can stop ourselves from following their lead. That said, a card happy referee did dish out four yellows apiece. It's arguable that a couple could have been straight reds, but the constant interruptions disrupted what should have certainly been a benchmark display from two sides that can play good attractive passing football.

Stephen Henderson had his best Charlton afternoon to date in goal, Bikey was a rock in front of him. Chris Solly looked more sprightly than of late (possibly therefore reducing him to the bench on Tuesday) but it tells it's own story that our star men were at the back. We sat far too deep too often and stood off the opposition in their build up play. Last season Ravel Morrison wore the wrong boots when he came to Charlton with QPR, Watford stupidly had shopped in the same store. Henderson produced a couple of fine saves, as did the woodwork but otherwise their fourteen shots were wasted.

It was gritty from Charlton, we were second best for large periods but hung it out. Franck Moussa had two great opportunities to possibly snatch a second on the break but froze with stage fright on both occasions. Last season we'd have collapsed in those circumstances but good Championship teams, the contenders, pick up three points when they perhaps shouldn't. We've certainly got a bad patch ahead of us at some point to come but we are contenders. Derby, Wigan, Watford, they'll all second that statement. Come Tuesday night we can hopefully add Wolves to that list.

A couple of pints in my first visit in a decade to The Royal Oak afterwards helped even out my blood and stress levels back to some kind of normality. Trains, football referees, it's all sent to try us and it's hard to remember Saturday afternoon isn't the be all and end all until you lose someone special.

With deepest sympathy, God bless you David Whyte.

@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!

Mind me Bovril!

Last season, Charlton's trip to Vicarage Road was rather memorable. A thrilling victory, a good day on the ale, New Years Day celebrations and 'er indoors not speaking to me for a week after I'd promised to be home by the time she got in from work. I was still in Euston at six o'clock that day, my evening was cut very short and yesterday's 'fixture anniversary' appeared to be celebrated by my companions of nine months ago. They visited the very same pub where I received 'that' phone call on that fateful day, I just hope they raised a glass in my honour.

This season the fixture passed me by without much activity, or even I'm afraid to say, much interest. The trouble I endure is working in a trade where Saturdays are your busiest day of the week. Any other motorcycle shop and I'd be lucky to get an afternoon off so I count myself fortunate that I only have to work the mornings, despite it playing havoc with any potential away days. You can imagine how popular I'd be with the missus if I used my holiday to follow Charlton around the country, even if the boss did allow such sporadic days off. No, I'm afraid it's been nearly a decade since my regular outings to grounds up and down this land. A fact that has always grated when I've allowed it too much thought. Until now, that is.

I knew I couldn't get to Watford in time for three, in much the same way as I know I can't get to The Valley next week due to the early kick off, so I found a different game to go to, and only twenty five minutes away on the scooter. As two thousand Addicks made themselves heard in Hertfordshire, I was drinking Bovril just south of Croydon with just over a hundred others.

I've seen the highlights, the only professional game of the weekend that I have, and seen the Yann Kermorgant penalty, Watford (wearing possibly the best kit in the division) playing in their familiar and infamous 'Italian' style, and the now obligatory smoke bomb from the young travelling supporters. A hard earned and well deserved point away from home against one of the higher scoring and more fancied sides in the Championship will be seen as good reward and I'm sure if I'd been there myself I'd have bobbed along with the atmosphere and merriment of so many good friends together on another's patch. But I wasn't, I was in Whyteleafe, a place unheard of to the 3 network and not even a twitter feed to keep me abreast of  proceedings twenty eight miles away as the crow flies. Yes, I googled it.

Last week of course we delighted in Non League Day, seven days later life was back to normal and Absolute Radio were thriving on the return of the Premier League as if it had been reported missing months ago. They were almost wetting themselves on the prospect of a radio commentary of the Tottenham versus Norwich match as I wept into my morning tea break cuppa. I'd seen step nine football last week, loved it, and was going to watch some more that afternoon, listeners to this commercial radio station couldn't possibly know what enchantment they were missing.  An expensive group of foreigners may be strutting their stuff in North London for the benefit of the masses, a group of well payed Italian reserves may even be 'entertaining'  South Londoners with their theatricals fifteen miles (yes I did it again) north west of White Hart Lane, but I was going to watch my second FA Cup match of the season, and it's only mid September. The BBC barely recognise the competition has even started, yet part time footballers, certainly playing for the enjoyment as opposed to financial gain, were entertaining small crowds and their dogs in every corner of the country.

The first game I saw was an extra preliminary round replay between Epsom & Ewell and Whyteleafe three weeks ago. This time, two rounds later they entertained Horley Town in the first qualifying round. I'd chosen Horley last week for Non League Day and watched them lose 2-6 to Newhaven in the FA Vase. Surely their route to Wembley wouldn't be wrecked two weeks running.

Whyteleafe being just south of Croydon is deep in Crystal Palace territory. As I walked into the clubhouse for a pre match pint I was astonished quite how many red and blue stripy shirts greeted me. Their game at Old Trafford was shown on the big screen, I was informed that Selhurst season ticket holders were enticed to Church Road to watch the match with the offer of a free drink. There is obviously a good relationship between the two sides as signed framed Palace shirts adorned the walls. That was it, my mind made up, I was supporting Horley again today! I enjoyed a good pint of Revolver whilst chatting to blogging (and Whyteleafe) friends from the Sound Of Football podcast, keeping my back to the big screen yet basking in the fine ale on offer at the club.

I'd been warned about the playing surface at Whyteleafe beforehand, true enough it resembled a ploughed field. A 3G synthetic pitch is on the agenda for the club, not only much needed but also a very possible future money spinner for the Leafe. The rest of the ground looked very in keeping with the ruts and troughs of the pitch, the paint was flaking of every surface, the stands looked dark and cold in their age while it appeared that someone had been fly tipping on the far side of the ground. The love-in with Palace continued!

The match itself was very one sided. The Horley keeper looked shaky last week, he was little better yesterday and at fault for the first of the three goals they conceded, his gloves certainly seem to be coated with something more suitable to frying pans. It's a little dour admittedly but we wondered if perhaps he'd have more success with those big foam hands next week. The second had no bearing on the gloves as he chose to leave his goal line and advance forward just as experienced full back Anthony Jupp guided a perfectly executed looping headed backwards and over the keepers head. Jupp was recently rewarded by Horley Town for his wonderful service reaching five hundred appearances for the club, there can't have been a more well taken own goal in any of them.

The keeper, who was good naturally jeered by the half dozen Whyteleafe 'ultra's' during the first period did enjoy a far better spell during the second half pulling off some fine saves towards the end. Horley had their chances but never really threatened the goal, cup joy was dashed for successive Saturdays, I've seen them twice and they've shipped nine goals. They've certainly got all the attributes I normally require for my undying support. A long and miserable relationship could well blossom.

Once again the food we're usually subjected to at The Valley was surpassed by a team with far less resources. An above average cheeseburger accompanied by a large steaming cup of Bovril gave me plenty of change out of a four pounds, although the hard tackling part timers did their best to send it flying. Stood behind a heel clicking linesman, our refreshments were consistently targeted by the Whyteleafe full back and the Horley winger, both giving one hundred percent to every challenge and the ball hurtling in our direction with ferocious frequency. "Mind me Bovril!" shouted one supporter, a phrase rarely heard at the bigger stadium.

Level nine football has got me hooked. I was relatively used to two or three levels up at Sutton United and crowds of five or six hundred, but this is even more refreshing and even further removed from the things that irk the most about the modern professional game. I was always glum when Charlton supporters went travelling to see the team without me, jealousy raged deep, but know I've found something different that's slightly more honest, far more accessible and I bloody love it.

Up And Running

All around the world people were today celebrating the start of the English football season. The FA, in conjunction with Sky, had chosen today to unleash their money making new Premier League campaign on a football hungry public willing to spend their budget on expensive TV packages and lucrative match day tickets.

I had a customer this morning in the bike shop who jubilantly remarked that football is finally back. Staggered, I casually mentioned that the real stuff started two weeks ago, he was completely oblivious. He honestly had no idea, where this chap had been hiding I really don't know, but for a fifty-odd year old man (and apparently staunch Chelsea supporter) to not know the lower divisions had already kicked off, and have no clue which division Charlton played in, I realised the brain washing of the Premier League machine was taking hold. How can someone who claims to "love his football" be so blinkered? I was, to coin a phrase, bloody angry. His motorcycle duly failed it's MOT.

Do these people think exciting football can only happen if multimillionaire footballers take to the pitch? Just look at Reading and Watford today. An end to end 3-3 draw that could easily have been 6-6, Watford did indeed find the net six times only the week before. What about the action at Oakwell today? A home team two goals up, then a spirited fightback sees the visitors claim a point. And this a fixture that saw a 6-0 away win only last season. Yes, I do have a lot of arguments with modern football, but for all the issues with TV companies, club chairman, the FA and like, supporters with their heads in the sand probably wind me up the most.

So Charlton then. Sordell was dropped, shame, Jackson was injured, and we started with a 4-3-3 formation. At half time we were a goal down, ten minutes later it was two. All the comments of  'a long hard season ahead' were fluttering around inside my head. Three played, nil points, both ourselves and Millwall were in danger of going to the fancy dress party as Denmark's Eurovision entry, propping up the entire division. Three played, and beaten by three teams that I really don't believe are good enough for a top half of the table finish, one or two of which could even find life a little harder than that. And then I hear on the radio that there are club's in the Conference that have plenty more in their bank accounts than us. It's looking like it's all over for us already, and according to the media the season is only forty five minutes old!

Football, whether top flight or not, is an intriguing game though, and fortunes can turn on their head in a matter of moments. It only takes a goal. Young midfielder Jordan Cousins was given his debut as a half time substitute, along with Leon Cort, by Chris Powell. He went on to emulate Rickie Lambert's England midweek showing by marking the occasion with a goal. Momentum was with us and eight minutes later Simon Church doubled our tally with his first league goal of the season.

A point grasped from the hands of defeat, it almost feels like we won. Our first point on the board, a little confidence instilled in the team and the impetus now to address the home performance before the visit of Doncaster Rovers next week, cue hundreds of Addicks falling back in love with their football team.

How many of you didn't even realise this type of thing happened up and down the country week in week out to real working class folk? Football is much more than a Super Sunday.

Worked hard, showed potential and ultimately achieved a good grade.

After ten months of moments of both ecstasy and, more often than not, agony, we're down to having just the one English domestic football match left to play, the most lucrative of them all. The Championship play-off final is a fixture close to the hearts of all Charlton supporters, the greatest day of them all for those of us too young to remember the FA Cup final of  '47, and this season's encounter bears more than a passing interest to those in and around SE7.

Our bitter rivals, Crystal Palace, will endeavour to defeat Gianfranco Zola's Watford to gain entry to the ludicrous Premier League on Monday. It's a game I for one am glad Charlton aren't involved in this season.

Having walked away with the League One title the previous year, some expected the Addicks to follow in the footsteps of Norwich and Brighton, taking the Championship by storm. However, whispered financial insecurities over the summer left supporters a little concerned that survival was a far more obtainable goal than promotion. The traditional comings and goings in the transfer market were few and far between although Charlton did manage to keep hold of the nucleus of the title winning squad including player of the year Chris Solly, despite interest from some of English football's big names. Lawrie Wilson joined from Stevenage as Charlton beat Peterborough for his signature, whilst former Glasgow Rangers wide man Salim Kerkar also signed after a successful trial period. Perhaps Chris Powell's shrewdest piece of business was capturing French defender Dorian Dervite. Dervite has been an unsung hero stepping up to the mark when called upon both in the heart of the defence and also playing just ahead of the back four when Powell experimented with a 4-5-1 formation. He's been known to come up with the odd goal as well, just when we've needed it.

The season started as many have with disappointment and cup heartache, a Charlton phenomenon we'll forever have to endure. League One Leyton Orient, a side we had become very familiar with, fought for a draw and ultimately beating us in a penalty shoot-out, Jackson and new boy Wilson missing our first two. This was always going to be a season when we had to concentrate on the league anyway.

The opening day was at St Andrews; Birmingham full of play off misfortune and determined to go one better this time around. Charlton started their league campaign where they left off the last one, the better side for the majority of the match and snatching a late goal through Leon Cort. A momentary lapse of concentration at the back saw Birmingham equalise with almost the last kick of the ninety minutes, they celebrated like they had just won whilst we were left reeling and in no doubt that mistakes this season would be punished with a regularity we were not accustomed to. A harsh but perhaps needy lesson. Three days later Leicester came to The Valley, one of the promotion favourites. Both Wright-Phillips and Yann Kermorgant got off the mark and although the visitors pulled one back it was a solid Charlton performance on a frenzied and charged night. Our first victory, third in the table and we'd played two of the most fancied sides in the division off the park at times. This Championship lark was going to be easy, a day later we signed Ricardo Fuller who had been let go by Stoke. Buoyant is probably the most apt adjective I can think of looking back for the late summer of 2012. August was rounded off with a draw at home to Hull, another much fancied side, in torrential rain. Five points from nine, were we punching above our weight or had we really found our natural level? Chris Powell was certainly the man of the moment.

September came and with it a change of fortunes. Nottingham Forest gave us a footballing lesson, probably the best we would see all season, the 2-1 scoreline and a late rally of Charlton pressure both deceiving and ultimately flattering us greatly. What better a fixture to bounce back in then, than the much anticipated visit of Crystal Palace. The Eagles packed the away end with great support both vocally and visually, it was unfortunate that a few idiots from both camps decided to punch and kick their way to the station afterwards. A tight affair, Palace inflicted a successive defeat on us although in fairness we had a perfectly good goal ruled out earlier from Bradley Wright-Phillips. These incidents never hurt as much as they do in a local derby; the following week was hard to stomach at work as Palace fans seemed to creep out of the woodwork. The first Palace league win at The Valley in my lifetime, this was lamentably a notable landmark in a season full of sharp milestones.

The Palace flares did look good though.

After a third consecutive defeat, this time at Derby, another club supported by a friend happy to heap more mockery upon me, we found ourselves just outside the relegation zone a drop of eighteen places in four weeks. An early indication of how tight the division would stay all season.

The next couple of months saw complete extremes of emotions. Bradley Wright-Phillips was dropped as it became apparent he really didn't cut it in the second tier as was Danny Hollands. Two stalwarts of the title winning team that struggled to step up a level. The club captain, Johnnie Jackson, was also struggling to adjust as Chris Powell changed line ups and formations in an attempt to bring some stability to the team. Rhoys Wiggins had picked up a nasty injury in that clash against Palace, whilst Kermorgant also found himself in the treatment room for a month with an ankle injury. Chris Powell was always going to be tested as a manager and now he was, in the toughest of manners. He came in for criticism from some, his substitutions were badly timed and largely ineffective whilst it was obvious to many that he certainly had, and forgave, his favourites. If ever a manager was going to have to be brave and take a risk or two...

An encouraging and unexpected win at Blackpool was followed by probably the poorest performance of the season. Barnsley were the guests, football for a fiver was the event and 26,185 paying fans expected us to rise to the occasion to give first time viewers and long forgotten returning fans a spectacle. It was a drab game with very little atmosphere, the Tykes won with a single goal and there wasn't the merest hint of anything to encourage anyone to come again for the full asking price.

Those hardy souls that did return were treated to even worse in the next fixture, a 4-1 home defeat to Middlesbrough. Two away draws in between have given many false hope, the season wasn't even three months old and already The Valley was looking anything but the fortress we could depend on.

The high flying and re-branded Cardiff City were next, as if it couldn't get any worse! The crowd was much smaller than three days previously, many couldn't face going through all that again but those rugged enough to handle what Charlton could throw at them were in for a treat, the sort of night that will live long in the memory and told to future generations. Three minutes in, Cardiff had taken the lead, we slumped back in our seats resigned to another unwelcome battering. The only real surprise was that it took Cardiff twenty minutes to double their lead and as that goal went in I was so very tempted to make my way back down the pub to warm up. Something was different that night though, a feeling in the crowd that I last remember when we entertained West Ham in a thrilling 4-4 draw. This is one of those atmosphere's you couldn't recreate on a Saturday, it only happens under the floodlights but it was like an electrical charge running through the stands. We started to sing and sing and it just got louder and louder, akin to a mantra, we became a unit bound by a desire to not see our team capitulate but instead fight back with bravery and dignity. Bang bang, Johnnie Jackson rose to the call with two quick fire goals before the break to leave Cardiff shell-shocked. Malky Mackay's half time team talk must have been a stuttering and stumbling passage of disbelief whereas Powell's was obviously a rousing and proud speech. The Addicks returned to the battleground and knocked seven shades out of Cardiff for twenty minutes netting three times, the mother of all comeback's! Except for Huddersfield of course. The officials decided six minutes of stoppage time was needed, mainly for goal celebrations, and Charlton did their very best to give each and every one of us a cardiac arrest. Oh Charlton why do you always tease me so! Twice during those six minutes Cardiff found the net and looked very likely to finish the job before the referee finally brought the proceedings to an end.

We had beaten the league leaders 5-4, what could possibly touch me now? I was delirious. Even a Crystal Palace packed East Croydon station as I waited for a connection didn't really dampen things, albeit that they had also won and were rejoicing in now being top of the league, replacing Cardiff. Darn.

Momentum carried itself over from that game, we won three and drew one in the next four entering December with a much anticipated trip to The New Den. Things were looking 'dench' as our new loan signing Emmanuel Frimpong would say. The Arsenal lad would, it transpired, become subject to mockery for his actions off the pitch and completely forgotten for those on it. Another loanee that failed to make an impact at the same time was Danny Seabourne of Southampton although experienced and much traveled Rob Hulse, also 'borrowed' by us looked the real deal to me. Unwanted by QPR, the striker was keen to make an impression in the hope of a job offer from Powell. Hulse would later sign for Millwall where he was as popular with the natives as a Charlton supporter brandishing a flare. A lucky escape perhaps?

The game at Millwall won't be remembered for the football but for how Charlton and their 'geeky' fans stood up to the Lions. Charlton never backed down even when things got intimidating, many noses were put out of joint so much so that the Metropolitan Police, and the clubs for that matter, were worried that certain factions would seek retribution come the return fixture. Much was of course made of how all parties dealt with this, many feeling like Charlton fans were made to feel like second class citizens on our home patch in an effort to escort Millwall off the premises as quickly as possible. Those that like a bit of politics had a field day! We only took one point off Millwall in the end over the two games.

From that moment on Christmas had a distinctly miserable feel to it as the Addicks struggled to gain a measly two points from the next fifteen, the only highlight being Danny Haynes peach of a goal against Derby which would ultimately go on to be voted the clubs goal of the season.

As 2012 rolled into 2013 we sat in 18th place in the table. The confidence of the previous season was a distant memory, as was the 'homely' feel of League One. It would be fair to say that, with a couple of obvious exceptions, I wasn't really enjoying being back in the second tier of English football. I'm in no way a glory hunter, I certainly don't only watch the club when they are winning, but i missed the friendliness of third division football. The Championship is a lot more stressful both on and off the pitch.

New Years Day gave me a perfect opportunity to visit Vicarage Road, a ground I hadn't been to for many years. I could never have picked a better time to reacquaint myself with the place. Now Watford didn't play a nice game to be fair, I'm only going to support them on Monday because of the opposition. Full of Italian loanee's they played up, fell over and generally cheated in an attempt to win, much like the real McCoy on the other side of Europe. They may not have endeared themselves to us but Charlton did the complete opposite refusing to go down and winning the match by playing football. No matter how much we thought we loved our club, we loved them a little more after the game. Twice we went behind, twice we came back eventually running out 4-3 winners. Johnnie Jackson scored the winner, his face full of passion, it was a face he would pull again before the season was out. An early kick off meant a good long celebratory drink afterwards, first in Watford and then back in Euston. I was in the dog house for days afterwards once I'd returned home!

This form was taken into our next league match, Blackpool's visit to The Valley. There was the small matter of the third round of the cup between these two fixtures, we entertained Huddersfield and in true Charlton tradition we were abysmal so I shan't dwell on it. Not only did Blackpool mark our first double of the season but also our first home Saturday 3pm win of the campaign too. Had we turned over a new leaf? The 2-1 victory saw a goal for Scott Wagstaff who had returned from a loan spell at Leyton Orient with the bit between his teeth. If ever a player was out to prove his worth to his manager this lad was showing it. He would keep his place for the next three games including a win at Ewood Park. The last of these was our trip to Selhurst Park, a sad day for the club as the Eagles inflicted a second defeat upon us whilst our fans shamed themselves both inside and outside the ground with acts of needless vandalism. The actions of the police didn't help matters but even so.....

One point out of four South London derbies. I started this piece mentioning agonies don't forget.

February saw the long overdue return of Rhoys Wiggins, Cedric Evina had done a good job filling in but our first choice left back certainly gave a feeling of stability in our defence. We needed that stability as Ben Hamer was starting to feel the pressure, his mistakes became more apparent and, with it, more costly. David Button was given his chance between the sticks. Again our away form carried us through with the second double of the season at Leicester whilst Sheffield Wednesday, Forest, Burnley and Millwall all triumphed in SE7.

Chris Powell once again dipped into the loan market picking up Jonathan Obika from Tottenham and Mark Gower from Swansea. Last season's top scorer, Bradley Wright-Phillips was now enjoying a spell at Brentford (which would culminate with an appearance at Wembley) and may well have played his last game for the Addicks. Callum Harriott had been given the nod for the first team and raised his game pulling full backs here there and everywhere with his youthful exuberance. His performances along with the forgotten man of Charlton, Andy Hughes, were to transform our season end run in.

Bolton Wanderers came to The Valley at the end of March, another much fancied side in a rich vein of form. This game, at the beginning of the final straight, was I believe the turning point, not just because it was the start of our unbeaten climax to the season, but also because it finally showed the belief of the the players, the management and the supporters. After the poor showing against Millwall a week previously, we were again two down and this time after only twenty minutes. The visitors went defensive with a substitution, we immediately capitalized pulling a goal back and then never let go. Bolton had two players sent off but that was merely a statistic, with Andy Hughes dominating the midfield on his long awaited return to action. The 72 minutes he played that afternoon were nearly enough to win him the 'player of the year' award on their own!

A credible draw at Brighton midweek and another very spirited win against Leeds followed, we were up to twelfth and although not mathematically safe, I felt we had done enough. The Leeds game also saw the start of  something that will go down in Charlton folklore, Jonathan Obika and his last minute winner. The Bolton game left us elated, this last minute victory over Leeds even more so. We had snatched this after an old boys club had tried to steal the points from us. Luke Varney, governed by Neil Redfearn had thought they'd done enough equalizing with less than ten minutes to play. Obika duly became a hero!

The trip to Barnsley that followed really didn't need any last minute heroics from anyone. For the first time during my years supporting the club we scored six goals in a game, and as if that wasn't enough they all came from different individuals. That will teach anyone to come to The valley and spoil the day for all those kids! We were up to ninth and some were calculating the possibilities of a top six finish. We then gatecrashed Cardiff's promotion party as we held the best side in the league to a draw before entertaining a very troubled Wolverhampton Wanderers.

If ever a side looked resigned to their fate it was Wolves. Wasteful in attack, void of ideas in midfield, the very real threat of a second successive relegation stared everyone in the face. The pitch at The Valley had looked in awful condition for a few weeks by this time, Wolves needed to grow accustomed to it as it will mirror many they'll visit next season in League One. Charlton being Charlton have never taken the obvious route and after going a goal up threw Wolves a lifeline and the opportunity to claim a vital point. The visitors finally sensing the gravity of the situation took it with both hands only for that man Obika to once again kick a visiting team in the teeth at the death. As loan signings go there have been few with that much impact.

A draw at Middlesbrough and a comfortable win over bottom club Bristol City saw the Addicks finish the season unbeaten in their last eight and top of the last 'current form' table. Chris Powell said himself that he wished there were another ten games to go. Without doubt it instills great confidence for the start of the next campaign.

Behind the scenes there had been much gossip surrounding the owners and the staff. We often saw rumours stating Powell's frustration and unhappiness at both the funds available and those not supplying them, although at least he still found himself employed. Many at the club lost their jobs, some that had been central to the Charlton cause for many years. There were also sounds being made of foreign business consortium's being in attendance at The Valley on a matchday but this has since been rubbished. Of course we have no idea how the books look, or for that matter the future intentions of those pulling the strings. We can however assume that survival has meant everything to the club, if the worst had happened and we'd gone straight back down I fear a very big nail would have entered our coffin. It's just a feeling, I could of course be wrong.

In a season of many hero's it was Chris Solly that once again picked up the accolade of 'Player Of The Year'. Johnnie Jackson must wonder what he has to do to get his name on that particular trophy, he turned his season completely around after struggling to adapt for the first few weeks, scoring twelve goals in the process, many of them priceless and game changing. As faces start to leave throughout the summer I pray the skipper's isn't one of them. I do wonder if we can continue to hold on to Chris Solly, West Ham are still keen and his signature must now be worth a pretty penny, whilst Aston Villa were as we know keen on Dale Stephens back in January. It's hard to say if that was genuine interest or more of a panic scenario due to their precarious situation at the time.

Young Callum Harriott has signed a new deal which is great news for the club, as has Dorian Dervite while Danny Haynes and Scott Wagstaff will both be leaving. Haynes has been unfortunate not only during his time with us but for most of his career with injuries while it really is a little sad to see Waggy go. A youth product who has played at all levels for Charlton and seems to have been around the club for so long already obviously isn't a part of Powell's bigger picture. With the utmost respect to Ricardo Fuller, Matt Taylor, Salim Kerkar, John Sullivan and Yado Mambo (we never got a chance to sing that song) who all also leave this summer, none of them were Charlton through and through. It's a sad day when one of your own move on to pastures new.

So we now know all of our league opponents for next season except one. I'm a tad biased, i follow more Watford fans on twitter (two) than I do Palace fans and besides I want another chance to claim bragging rights over drinkers in my local pubs. What fun would it be to see Palace lose every week in the Premier League anyway? Like I said at the beginning, I'm glad we are not involved, it would be far too early for this squad to get promoted but, fifteen years on from the greatest of days in my living memory, I don't begrudge any supporters their day out at Wembley tomorrow.

 

Neuton and his law of motion

I fully expected only one name to stand out on New Years Day at Vicarage Road, a certain Mr Trevor Kettle. Yes that Mr Kettle, the one who supports Huddersfield. To his credit he put in a very average performance, he's treated us worse, and he gracefully left the headlines for someone else. A Brazilian named Neuton.

Neuton is currently on loan at Watford from Udinese in Italy, unsurprising in itself with Zola probably having a strong scouting network back in his homeland. This must also be where the young twenty two year old learnt the art of cheating.

Now before you all jump to conclusions, we have had a few lads ourselves over the years who go to ground a little too easily. A big French lad currently playing up front for the team springs to mind, although with Watford it didn't seem to be an individual choice, more of a game plan. Therein lies the problem. I'm picking on this one individual because he was playing a role nearest to the away supporters and in the best view, but man to man they fell to the ground so frequently it was hard not to mimic Ray Wilkins' overused catchphrase. Their number 41, Fernando Forestini (also on loan from Udinese), was also a main culprit especially during the first half when again in plain view of us.

It was quite evident during the second half how much the traveling support had got to Neuton. His interpretation of the law of motion included force, velocity, mass, and most importantly, downward movement.

I am of course deriving this opinion of Watford's tactics solely on the basis of one match, however if this is a week by week event i feel sorry for their, largely silent, fans. In that particular respect Vicarage Road was very similar to Craven Cottage. I would rather see a team lose every week whilst trying to play football in a largely legal fashion than see a team battle for promotion immorally. If you look again at Watford's third goal they played some lovely football and are obviously more than capable of doing it 'the right way', which makes the niggly stuff even more infuriating.

For our third goal, and to pull level, Ricardo Fuller did wonderfully well in the box 'staying on his feet' (as Ceddy Evina had done earlier for our second) when he could so easily have gone down hoping Mr Kettle would take pity and point to the spot. A small little victory for real football.

As for the game itself, what can i say. Seven 'legal' goals, three more disallowed, a real roller coaster of emotions. Credit must go to the groundsman for what can only be described as a gorgeous looking playing surface, enhanced by the glorious winter sunshine.

After sloppy defending for the Watford opener Charlton showed great resilience coming from behind twice and leading at half time. The Johnnie Jackson header that sealed it from a corner was strong, determined and summed up everything about the Addicks performance. This had been coming for a while and once again was helped by awesome vocal support. It was our turn to be the twelfth man, in much the same way as we had been for the home fixture against Cardiff back in November. The youngsters down the front, the Red Division, were superb and was was fitting to hear a song in respect of the Captain, a old diehard away traveler who regrettably died earlier in the week from cancer.

I had a good feeling about the game before it kicked off expecting to snatch a win and witnessing two very drab sides not fully awake due to the early kick off after the new year celebrations. We didn't snatch the win really though, no matter what order the goals went in. From midway through the first half Charlton wanted this and were stamping their name on the game. Just look at Jackson's face as he celebrated the winner, not to mention the fist clenched air punching from the whole side as they thanked the supporters at the final whistle. It was a momentous Charlton result, almost to the point of being season defining. We knew it in the stands, they knew it on the pitch.

Jordan Cook picked up a rare outing coming on for Lawrie Wilson who had to leave the field with a facial injury whilst the compelling Fuller gave way for Rob Hulse, making his Charlton farewell having now returned to parent club QPR. The charismatic Frimpong has also left the club returning to Arsenal. I have to be honest and admit my disappointment at seeing Hulse go. He may not be a big scorer but reads the game well, can supply a deft touch and runs his socks off. A very type-cast Charlton forward really.

After the game myself, Jim, Spanish, Catford Dave, Crispy and fellow Charlton bloggers Hungry Ted and Marco enjoyed a few real ale's as you do both in Watford and then back in Euston. As days out at the football go, this was right up there with the best of them. Thank you lads.

Now the transfer window is open be prepared for either a coming or going this afternoon, Chris Powell always waits for ten minutes after i post before announcing some breaking news. I don't hold that against him, or in fact hold anything against him after masterminding such a fantastic result Tuesday.

No explanation needed

Ram Rod

It's a lovely bottled beer from the Young's brewery, mixing with their Special bitter perfectly. It's also an instrument for cleaning the barrel of a firearm, a little more poignant then for Chris Powell who, if speculation is to be believed, is staring down the said barrel as a string of poor results and performances could be numbering his days. Certainly one of his biggest struggles, the art of the substitution, was at the forefront of every conversation around SE7 last night after his teams draw with the Rams.

With the frenzied activities of Christmas and it's extensive run up, it had felt like forever since i'd made a pilgrimage to The Valley. The ladies on the densely populated train towards London Bridge tried their hardest to delay my return even longer by constructing an obstacle course of pushchairs for me to negotiate, never has it taken me so long to depart from a carriage. All of this came after a slight worry that we had broken down as we sat for ten minutes rather ironically outside the monstrous Sehurst train depot. Relentlessly i battled on and made my way to the Rose of Denmark and still in time for a pre match glass of ale and the chance to meet the lads to discuss our Christmases.

The threat of torrential rain and a possible postponement remained (before kick off at least) just that. The game was on and with it the chance to put an end to an unwelcome losing streak. Derby were the visitors, their supporters came equipped with a rather large flag and their players kitted out thankfully in the traditional white shirts. You'll be more than aware of my disgust for the unnecessary use of away kits.

The term 'a great game for the neutrals' is one of those overused football cliches far more suited to Match of the Day than the pages of my blog, but i have to say, this game really was a good spectacle. Solid passing football from the visitors, a wonder goal, a dubious ref giving an equally dubious penalty decision and a subsequent sending off, a final rally and a glaring miss worthy of every football blunders dvd. We may not have had the quantity of goals flying in around the grounds of the Premier League but we certainly had the drama.

Derby were certainly quicker 'out of the blocks' (to boldly steal another MOTD cliche), although they were stunned into silence as Danny Haynes scored a screamer of a goal (possibly THE goal of the season) after some equally good solo work around the edge of the box. He would unfortunately pull up a little later clutching his hamstring. I'm guessing that's about six weeks out as a minimum which is a real shame, Haynes has been a shining light in our side this year.

Chris Powell seemed to still favour the late substitution, it felt like we played for four or so minutes waiting for Bradley Wright-Phillips to replace Haynes during which time Hamer made a superb save as a Derby shirt broke clean through. One of many great saves from our number one, you may believe we threw two points away yesterday, some may say Hamer earned us a point with his man of the match display. If Haynes goal was special, Hamer's double save in the second half was equally breathtaking.

And so we get to Michael Morrison. Should he have played the second forty five in the first place? After a booking and two separate stern words from the match official during the first half, many managers would have hauled him off. I agree you can't change a centre half every time he gets booked, but Morrison yesterday was still struggling to get on top of his game and the more than capable Dorian Dervite was on the bench fully fit and ready. Many of us felt he wouldn't make the full ninety long before the penalty incident. I cannot believe Nigel Clough didn't make our defender a prime topic during his half time team talk urging his players to wind him up and draw a rash challenge out of him.

Previous to the penalty incident Bradley Pritchard had every chance to seal the points for Charlton. We saw how much his goal meant to him against Brighton, yet he couldn't hide his face quick enough after hitting the bar from point blank range, and this was after having a moment to steady himself  and eye up the target. I would like to quash any rumours that my orange cagoule was in some way to blame, dazzling the midfielder from the upper reaches of the North stand.

Charlton's ten men rallied on the counter and dug deep for the final fifteen minutes as Derby sensed all three points were up for grabs but in all honesty we left for home feeling we threw it away, albeit with the help of the man in the yellow jersey. After three defeats in a row we've finally managed to put another point on the board although we have seen December come and go without a victory. They may not have done enough to secure that elusive victory yesterday but they may just have done enough to keep the gaffer in charge for the start of 2013.

I'm feeling strangely confident for Tuesday. Watford look good and Vicarage Road is a tough ground to get a result but i feel we are overdue a slice of luck. I do foresee regular use both home and away of the 4-5-1 formation as Rob Hulse sees his loan expire on Tuesday. This will leave only Kermorgant and the slightly fragile Fuller up front if Wright-Phillips does, as expected, move on during the transfer window.

If goals are going to be harder to come by, then we'll need the likes of Pritchard to be far more composed when the opportunity arises!

Kiss me quick!

It's been a funny old week, both for me and my football team. I've had a poor performance with results to match whilst Charlton have played superbly with mixed fortunes.

The dreaded misery that is man flu took it's ugly grip on me at the beginning of the week, assigning me to my bed for a couple of days. It would have been longer if my attendance at work hadn't been vital to the cause on Friday.

I therefore not only missed the action at The Valley on Tuesday evening in the flesh, but i also slept through the radio commentary too!
I took from the game that Charlton bossed the majority of the match, despite the 1-2 scoreline, Watford's Italian contingent did a fair impersonation of Tom Daley, and finally, we really need to take our chances at this level.

A trip to free scoring, high flying Blackpool was just what we needed then. In some respects, there was a little less pressure on us to get a result than there was on Tuesday, but two good performances at home still count for something. We would either get the reward these showings have been promising or we'd get a hiding.
I hate to admit it but i was expecting the latter.

Chris Powell decided it was time to shake things up a little, most notably by dropping Bradley Wright-Phillips to the bench and switching to a 4-5-1 formation. New boy Abdul Razak was his replacement coming into the centre of the midfield.

Charlton's solid performance was back and on display in the first half but once again the chances came and went. Fortunately Blackpool were wasteful with theirs too. Ricardo Fuller came the closest when his header came off the underside of the bar. That was the best moment of the first forty five.

The worst moment once again involved a players personal misery. We'll have to find space in an already crowded treatment room back in the capital as Danny Green came off after only around twenty minutes becoming the latest member of the Charlton cripple club.

It was the second period when things really came to life. Only three minutes in and Charlton were in front. Leon Cort once again found the net with his head from a Stephens corner. The Charlton traveling support were, for not the first time, coming through loud and clear on the radio (were there any home fans at the game? It sounded like Craven Cottage), and twitter was already full of tweets urging us to hang on! We really don't have too much faith in holding onto a lead.

We did hang on though, Fuller giving a professional display up front warranting a man of the match accolade. Charlton wrapped it up as Chris Solly scored the second with a sweet right foot drive from around twenty yards out.
As they quite correctly mentioned on the radio, it's a goal that ,with time, will be noted as being further and further out.

The emergence of both 1998 play off final veteran  Kevin Phillips and the very talented Tom Ince off the bench failed to inspire Blackpool to a comeback and Charlton clung on (as we do) to three very welcomed points on the road lifting us to a much more respectable fifteenth in the table as we go into an international break.

After a week of Chris Powell receiving criticism from a certain portion of the Charlton support he's shown that he's quite happy to drop a 'name', quite prepared to try a different approach and quite correct to tell us all to have patience.

I believe he knows what he's doing, i never doubted him for a moment. Honest.

Looking Kean

Having had to work during the Hull match, yesterday saw my first Saturday 3 o'clock kick off of the season - during the last weekend of September! I've heard many people claiming global warming has confused the seasons, i blame the likes of Sky slightly more.

As is so often the case, Charlton's opponents were making all the headlines prior to the game. How often has an opposing manager lost his job prior to the game or the following day after a defeat in SE7?
Steve Kean, whom i believe is very popular in Bolton, resigned as Blackburn boss on the evening before the match. It had of course been on the cards for months but Kean politely waited until a fixture against the Addicks before announcing anything. This was guaranteed to get us an extra twenty seconds on the BBC's Football League Show.

It was a day to welcome some famous and infamous faces to The Valley. Former Addick and former European footballer of the year, Allan Simonsen was in attendance both to watch the game and meet the guys at Charlton Live for a radio interview.
Other visitors, Danny Murphy and Darren Deadman weren't invited to speak into the radio microphone. Murphy, a lovely upstanding gent, was on the receiving end of plenty of abuse from the home fans. Although harsh in content, it wasn't surprising. In a poll of least liked former players, Murphy would feature highly in many answers.
Deadman, the referee, is someone trying to carve a reputation for himself. Normally a little card happy, it would appear after yesterday that someone really needs to sit him down and explain the whole principle of playing the advantage. On at least three occasions he stopped play the second a foul was committed even though an advantage would have been more prosperous to the side.

Someone who didn't hang about for the game was Charlton striker Ricardo Fuller. Despite rumours floating around Charlton Life and the North stand about a drink driving incident, it transpires the player is suffering from some kind of virus and was sent home by the gaffer.
After the injury to Kermorgant this forced Chris Powell to change things once again with Danny Hollands returning to the starting line up in a five man midfield. Young Michael Smith offered some attacking back up on the bench.

Blackburn, a Premier League side last season don't forget, looked strong from the start and manager less or not were going to give us a stern test. We of course were on the back of our first away win and should have been high on confidence. Blackburn scored after fifteen minutes.

There was talk at half time as to this goal possibly being off side, i don't know I'm yet to see a TV replay but what is important is the manner in which Rovers got it. They passed the ball right through us, we opened up for them like a flower welcoming the approaches of a cocksure bee.

As betting slips were torn to shreds around the ground, many may have thought the floodgates would open. I for one didn't think we had it in us. At least we were winning in the vocal department. I can understand why Murphy feels so at home at Blackburn, their fans made just as much noise as he was used to at Fulham for sure! We sang truthfully when we told them of our forgetfulness about their attendance.

I always remember a particular 1-0 defeat when i think of Blackburn, my first Charlton Wembley trip in the Full Members Cup when i was a young sixteen year old. A great day out when you could stand at the twin towers, just ruined by the scoreline. I always thought the opportunity of seeing Charlton lift a trophy at Wembley had passed me by at the time. This was to be no repeat.

Charlton earned a penalty when Leon Cort (to show how old I'm getting, my failing eyesight thought it was Wright-Phillips)  was brought down in the box just ten minutes later. Jackson stepped up and was unlucky not to score as the keepers trailing leg kept the ball out. Before we'd had a chance to moan about chances lost the ball was nicely nestled in the back of the net. Hollands sent the ball back into the box where Jackson made contact and diverted it in. I've seen photos since of his celebration, this goal meant as much to him as it did to us. We erupted.

Danny Green, again impressive, hit the upright before half time whilst the full backs Solly and the always improving Lawrie Wilson both looked strong again. At half time i was feeling rather optimistic. A win could be on the cards.

As the game developed we came very close to taking the points. Leon Cort nearly put us in front early in the second half with the ball being apparently cleared of the line. We all thought it had crossed over, again though I've yet to see a replay.
Wright-Phillips nearly sealed it for us in a way Ben Hamer could only dream of. A wonderful over-head kick was tipped over the bar with just minutes remaining.

We settled for a hard earned point, we deserved nothing less. It wasn't all plain sailing though. Johnnie Jackson limped off in the early stages of the second period with a hamstring problem. Adding to Wiggins and Kermorgant on the treatment table, this deepens Powell's injury woes but does open the door of opportunity to those willing to take it. Pritchard looked fresh when he came on for the skipper. Having lost his place recently he wants to be razor sharp during this second chance.

My biggest bug bear of the day was the long ball tactic. At times against opposition of this caliber, we don't look comfortable on the ball resulting in us either struggling with a first touch, playing the thing far too quickly or pumping it forward over head height. With just four foot nothing Wright-Phillips up front you can soon see the flaw in this. Michael Smith can hold the ball up well, maybe a chance for the youngster wouldn't be a bad move when employing this tactic?

All in all though a gritty performance that showed the character needed to survive and compete at this level. Our injury depleted League One side more than held their own against Premier league wannabes.

Off the field of play now and into the stands. After my Blues Brothers escapade last weekend and the discovery of my long forgotten hat collection, i graced SE7 wearing a brown trilby number. The remarks from friends and associates were mostly positive so I've decided it will appear more and more frequently.
I always remember a TV advert where the wife could tell her husbands whereabouts by which hat was missing. He had a football one, a fishing one etc. Well i now have a football hat. If you see it in the Rose or at a the ground feel free to come over and say hello.

Watford Tuesday, or as i prefer to call it, The Italian Job. A chance to add to our points tally before the much anticipated trip up to Blackpool.
I'm feeling very positive. Come on you reds!