Charlton Athletic 1 - QPR 0
The general consensus as we were leaving the Valley yesterday was "Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeessssssss", at least according to my twitter timeline.
Pre game, as we sat in the welcome February sunshine of the Rose of Denmark beer garden, a chirpy
Hungry Ted was pretty confident of Charlton getting a decent result.
I really didn't share his optimism.
A draw was the very,
very best I would allow myself to dream of.
We discussed the possibility of Charlton scoring early but reckoned it'd just mean we would sit back, trying to defend the lead which probably wouldn't be that successful.
I did say our best bet would probably hinge upon keeping the game as a draw, then scoring late.
Someone must have been listening.
Despite having an embarrassment of riches and a large playing squad just reeking of quality and pound signs, QPR felt the need to bring in Ravel Morrison as an 'emergency' this week.
From a Charlton perspective, it's a good job 'Arry did this particular piece of business as Morrison stunk the place out.
Without stretching the point, if he'd been concentrating, he could very easily have netted a hat trick yet he was in more danger of knocking over the corner flag than busting the net with his efforts.
QPR were very pretty, keeping the ball and passing well but didn't offer that much up front.
The stats tell us they didn't have a single shot on target.
We still had a heart in mouth moment when Thuram- Ulien made a complete horlicks of an unwelcome back pass.
Luckily, his mistake wasn't punished.
As the game entered the closing stages it was QPR who were hanging on for a draw.
Poyet made a very Steve Brown style challenge, winning a ball he had no right to, leading to a curling effort from distance by Ajdarevic.
I turned to Crispy after Rob Green had tipped the ball around the post, saying "it's not going in is it?"
The resulting corner had 3 sides of the Valley in dreamland.
Jackson seemed to score an impossible goal from the tightest of angles, heading the ball down so that it bounced up into the roof of the net.
The celebrations were very similar to the scenes we had all those years ago, when we came back to equalise against Manchester United, after being 3-1 down with not much time to go.
For once, we seemed to get what we deserved.
The referee wasn't conned by the most ridiculous dive over Dervite's leg, (no contact whatsoever), in our penalty area in the first half.
Just the kind of decision that's been going against us lately.
So the good guys won.
'Arry's team of money grabbing mercenaries just didn't care enough and lost because they thought they only needed to turn up and lowly Charlton would roll over.
All that was left to do was cheer off the team and, (of course), Chris Powell.
A few celebratory beers post game with
Al, Jim and Crispy seemed to be in order which wiped out the rest of my Saturday night if I'm honest.
It's days like these that remind us why we love football.
Your beloved home team scoring an added time winner, against a side who are expected to give you a spanking.
Happy Days.
