Showing posts with label Gills. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gills. Show all posts
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Reaction??
Oh yes, the pride is back!
Bring out the best glasses and open the Bolinger.
I strutted home yesterday through the drizzle, doing a fair impression of John Travolta in the opening sequence from Saturday Night Fever.
The memories of our capitulation at The New Den have been wiped clear.
Yes, local bragging rights are restored.
We are Kings of the Hill, Billy Big Balls and Joe Cool all mixed up together.
The news will have reverberated around the globe last night with Addicks the world over letting out a sigh of relief and rejoicing.
Yes- we managed to hold relegation threatened Gillingham to a draw.
At home.
Grrrr.
Sunday, 14 March 2010
A Resounding Raspberry.
Gillingham still haven't won away this term.
Welcome to the Valley, Gills fans.
Our supporters have little faith that Parky will inspire a 'reaction' next weekend.
87% predicting a loss?
I'm surprised it's not more after yesterday.
Watch the numbers tumble by Friday.
We'll be giving the Gills a spanking by then!
(Except we won't)
Welcome to the Valley, Gills fans.
Our supporters have little faith that Parky will inspire a 'reaction' next weekend.
87% predicting a loss?
I'm surprised it's not more after yesterday.
Watch the numbers tumble by Friday.
We'll be giving the Gills a spanking by then!
(Except we won't)
Sunday, 25 October 2009
Gills 'Cup Final' Ends in Stalemate
The journey out to Gillingham was easy peasy.
The train from Charlton only takes around an hour, passing through some areas that would never be included in tourist brochures promoting the 'Garden of Kent'.
The train driver had very thoughtfully stopped to pick up Sledge at Greenhithe station. It was he who commented that visiting Gillingham felt like visiting a 'Northern town'.
The promised torrential rain never really materialised. In my opinion, it would have been rather uncomfortable to spend an hour standing in the drizzle, nursing pint glasses before heading to the ground.
Many people chose the drizzle option but we found a bar with large leather sofas and a wide screen TV showing the midlands (proper) derby between Villa and Wolves.
The owners of the bar obviously rate cleanliness next to godliness as the drinking area and especially the toilets absolutely reeked of bleach. It was like visiting your local swimming baths, only without the crusty sock on the floor in the corner.
Priestfield is like an upmarket Welling. The open air terrace / golf style seating for the away supporters was 'functional' but hardly worth the £23. The last time I felt quite so fleeced for appalling facilities was at Selhurst Park.
Simon Jordan = Paul Scally?
The home supporters were really up for this game. It was their 'Cup Final' and the Priestfield was full. Despite the Charlton chants of "No noise from the Pikey boys", Gillingham were really getting behind their team.
Perhaps it was the excellent choice of pre match music played over the tannoy that hyped them up.
Most of what the Addick fans shouted was lost in the strong wind anyway.
Early on, it would appear that Izale McLeod was denied a cast iron, nailed on (etc etc) penalty. In all honesty, it was far too far away for me to comment. At the time, I just assumed it was another case of McLeod having a lie down when he got into the penalty area. Independent reports, even those biased towards the Gills, would indicate a penalty should have been awarded.
The referee, Jon Moss, (who will always be the drummer for Culture Club to eighties kids like me), wasn't really up to the task. It was yet another case of third division refereeing to go with the third division football.
Moss needed to get a grip on the game early on.
He didn't.
His big moment came when he removed a beachball from the pitch with a rather theatrical flourish.
With the Gills anxious to show who was boss, some very meaty challenges were made. Some would have been given instant yellow cards on another day but Moss just waved play on.
The Charlton players got stuck in too and there were some uncontrolled tackles from both teams.
What looked like Racon made a poor challenge which went unpunished so the Gills decided to take it out on Nicky Bailey a few seconds later.
Bailey received an appalling tackle that could have removed him from any more involvement in the afternoon's encounter. Deon Burton was duly booked for pointing out the ref's ineptitude.
Local boy Rob Elliot made a fine save but the first half was dull, dull, dull.
The bad ref, bad pitch and swirling wind in damp, skiddy conditions meant neither team could play a passing game.
The highlight of the first half, or at least a rare glimmer of excitement, was when some yellow bibbed bullies over reacted to some Charlton youngsters in the home area and caused an almighty ruck when there was no need to do anything.
I sent an email to Dr Kish reporting what I saw, reproduced here. (Though I promise I did include some punctuation when I sent it!)
The second half was much like the first. I found my mind wandering and I really wasn't fully engaged.
I began to contemplate what job the spotty, large chinned youth was doing inside the building directly to our left. He really wasn't doing much. He spent most of the afternoon leaning on the window, watching the game.
With only around 10 minutes to go, the game came alive. Mooney replaced McLeod and began running at everything.
I'm still not sure how it happened but the Gills player Nutter, somehow managed to slice the ball, unchallenged, into his own net. It was directly in front of the away support leading to equal amounts of cheering and laughing.
If Danny Baker was to do another compilation of his 'howlers', Nutter would be one of his unlucky highlights.
The chinny, spotty youth was aghast.
His face contorted, he gave the Charlton support, (who were only around 6 feet away) the finger and then pulled down the blinds on the window in disgust.
Despite everything I saw on Harry Hill's show last night, the spotty youth remains the funniest part of my Saturday.
We began to believe three points were ours for the taking.
A Charlton team who really hadn't got to grips with the conditions or received a fair rub of the green from the officials were ahead due to a massive 'slice' of good fortune.
It wasn't to last of course.
Rob Elliot had already managed a miracle save from Nutter but he could do nothing about the effort from Gills hotshot Jackson.
Without the benefit of a replay, I can't be sure, but it seemed as if he performed a very skillful flick to make space to shoot.
The Priestfield went wild with lots of waving / pointing directed towards a section high up in the main stand where the boxes are. I imagine some posh seat Addicks had given it large after our goal and were now paying the price!
A win would have been nice but a draw was a fair result. On the evidence of yesterday, we still have a problem closing out games.
Gillingham are not a great side. Unfortunately, we plummeted to their levels yesterday. It could have been down to conditions but our midfield never commanded the game. Our 'key' players should have ran rings around the Gills but yesterday our players didn't look comfortable.
One good thing about aiming for promotion is that hopefully we won't have to come back to god awful places like Priestfield again for a while.
Gillingham can then return to being the refuge of Addicks who didn't quite make the grade.
The walk back to the station was speedy, even including the fact you have to slalom around the piles of dog poo.
We returned to London on a 'Football Special'.
I thought they died out in the 80's?
Casual Rating
I'm really struggling to award the Lacoste polo shirt this week. After some quiet moments, I've decided to award it jointly to Kelly Youga and Rob Elliot as they were the only Charlton players who had a remotely good game.
The Primark novelty slogan tee shirt goes to the bullies who picked on some kids who unfortunately chose to support the 'wrong' team.
If the bright yellow clad hoolies had behaved in the same way while the kids were sitting waiting for a bus, it would have rightly been labelled an assault.
Gillingham should be ashamed of themselves.
I guess it's only to be expected from a club with Millwall fan Scally at the top.
The train from Charlton only takes around an hour, passing through some areas that would never be included in tourist brochures promoting the 'Garden of Kent'.
The train driver had very thoughtfully stopped to pick up Sledge at Greenhithe station. It was he who commented that visiting Gillingham felt like visiting a 'Northern town'.
The promised torrential rain never really materialised. In my opinion, it would have been rather uncomfortable to spend an hour standing in the drizzle, nursing pint glasses before heading to the ground.
Many people chose the drizzle option but we found a bar with large leather sofas and a wide screen TV showing the midlands (proper) derby between Villa and Wolves.
The owners of the bar obviously rate cleanliness next to godliness as the drinking area and especially the toilets absolutely reeked of bleach. It was like visiting your local swimming baths, only without the crusty sock on the floor in the corner.
Priestfield is like an upmarket Welling. The open air terrace / golf style seating for the away supporters was 'functional' but hardly worth the £23. The last time I felt quite so fleeced for appalling facilities was at Selhurst Park.
Simon Jordan = Paul Scally?
The home supporters were really up for this game. It was their 'Cup Final' and the Priestfield was full. Despite the Charlton chants of "No noise from the Pikey boys", Gillingham were really getting behind their team.
Perhaps it was the excellent choice of pre match music played over the tannoy that hyped them up.
Most of what the Addick fans shouted was lost in the strong wind anyway.
Early on, it would appear that Izale McLeod was denied a cast iron, nailed on (etc etc) penalty. In all honesty, it was far too far away for me to comment. At the time, I just assumed it was another case of McLeod having a lie down when he got into the penalty area. Independent reports, even those biased towards the Gills, would indicate a penalty should have been awarded.
The referee, Jon Moss, (who will always be the drummer for Culture Club to eighties kids like me), wasn't really up to the task. It was yet another case of third division refereeing to go with the third division football.
Moss needed to get a grip on the game early on.
He didn't.
His big moment came when he removed a beachball from the pitch with a rather theatrical flourish.
With the Gills anxious to show who was boss, some very meaty challenges were made. Some would have been given instant yellow cards on another day but Moss just waved play on.
The Charlton players got stuck in too and there were some uncontrolled tackles from both teams.
What looked like Racon made a poor challenge which went unpunished so the Gills decided to take it out on Nicky Bailey a few seconds later.
Bailey received an appalling tackle that could have removed him from any more involvement in the afternoon's encounter. Deon Burton was duly booked for pointing out the ref's ineptitude.
Local boy Rob Elliot made a fine save but the first half was dull, dull, dull.
The bad ref, bad pitch and swirling wind in damp, skiddy conditions meant neither team could play a passing game.
The highlight of the first half, or at least a rare glimmer of excitement, was when some yellow bibbed bullies over reacted to some Charlton youngsters in the home area and caused an almighty ruck when there was no need to do anything.
I sent an email to Dr Kish reporting what I saw, reproduced here. (Though I promise I did include some punctuation when I sent it!)
The second half was much like the first. I found my mind wandering and I really wasn't fully engaged.
I began to contemplate what job the spotty, large chinned youth was doing inside the building directly to our left. He really wasn't doing much. He spent most of the afternoon leaning on the window, watching the game.
With only around 10 minutes to go, the game came alive. Mooney replaced McLeod and began running at everything.
I'm still not sure how it happened but the Gills player Nutter, somehow managed to slice the ball, unchallenged, into his own net. It was directly in front of the away support leading to equal amounts of cheering and laughing.
If Danny Baker was to do another compilation of his 'howlers', Nutter would be one of his unlucky highlights.
The chinny, spotty youth was aghast.
His face contorted, he gave the Charlton support, (who were only around 6 feet away) the finger and then pulled down the blinds on the window in disgust.
Despite everything I saw on Harry Hill's show last night, the spotty youth remains the funniest part of my Saturday.
We began to believe three points were ours for the taking.
A Charlton team who really hadn't got to grips with the conditions or received a fair rub of the green from the officials were ahead due to a massive 'slice' of good fortune.
It wasn't to last of course.
Rob Elliot had already managed a miracle save from Nutter but he could do nothing about the effort from Gills hotshot Jackson.
Without the benefit of a replay, I can't be sure, but it seemed as if he performed a very skillful flick to make space to shoot.
The Priestfield went wild with lots of waving / pointing directed towards a section high up in the main stand where the boxes are. I imagine some posh seat Addicks had given it large after our goal and were now paying the price!
A win would have been nice but a draw was a fair result. On the evidence of yesterday, we still have a problem closing out games.
Gillingham are not a great side. Unfortunately, we plummeted to their levels yesterday. It could have been down to conditions but our midfield never commanded the game. Our 'key' players should have ran rings around the Gills but yesterday our players didn't look comfortable.
One good thing about aiming for promotion is that hopefully we won't have to come back to god awful places like Priestfield again for a while.
Gillingham can then return to being the refuge of Addicks who didn't quite make the grade.
The walk back to the station was speedy, even including the fact you have to slalom around the piles of dog poo.
We returned to London on a 'Football Special'.
I thought they died out in the 80's?
Casual Rating
I'm really struggling to award the Lacoste polo shirt this week. After some quiet moments, I've decided to award it jointly to Kelly Youga and Rob Elliot as they were the only Charlton players who had a remotely good game.
The Primark novelty slogan tee shirt goes to the bullies who picked on some kids who unfortunately chose to support the 'wrong' team.
If the bright yellow clad hoolies had behaved in the same way while the kids were sitting waiting for a bus, it would have rightly been labelled an assault.
Gillingham should be ashamed of themselves.
I guess it's only to be expected from a club with Millwall fan Scally at the top.
Wednesday, 21 October 2009
The 'Kent Derby'?
I'm sorry?
This is no kind of 'derby' for me.
I live within a very easy walk of The Valley and I don't live in Kent.
I concede a large proportion of our support do live in Kent but I'd guess that many of them live within those parts that come under the Greater London areas of Bexley or Bromley, or the slightly further out areas around Dartford.
Our games this season against Leyton Orient or Brentford hold more 'local' interest for me.
All this is meaningless anyway.
Even if 100% of our support came from the Medway towns, the club is still based in Greenwich.
If the locality of supporters is the criteria we work on, when Manchester United played at Selhurst Park it should have been classified a 'derby' due to the massive amount of United supporters who hail from the Guildford to Leatherhead areas.
Paul Scally,(above), has tried his hardest to whip up some anti Charlton feelings among the Gillingham support but to their credit, it would appear that many Gills have labels for him, all meaning the same as 'knob'.
Other Gills have chosen to disregard the generosity of Charlton supporters when raising money for Gillingham F.C.
They have got their knickers in a twist over some leaflets handed out, (outside the Priestfield), when Charlton were playing there. The leaflets were informing Charlton supporters from the area how easy it was to get to the Valley on the Valley Express.
Apparently, this was "stealing fans".
How you go about stealing fans I've no idea.
I already know I can get to The Emirates stadium for just a few pounds but I'm not going to suddenly rock up there rather than The Valley. I really can't imagine there was even one die hard Gills fan who decided to come to the Valley for their football fix on the strength of a cheap bus.
It might not be a 'derby' for me but I realise we are going to get a pretty frosty reception down in Kent. As Gillingham's nearest 'big' club, (until recently), they would absolutely love the chance to turn us over.
Our support will possibly water down any potential 'cauldron'.
The Charlton allocation sold out before the tickets reached 'General Sale' two weeks ago. Many unlucky fans have chosen to buy tickets in home sections so there will be pockets of Addicks all over the ground.
I hope that Parky doesn't get caught up in any 'derby' nonsense and just takes the team down the A2 to do a professional job.
We have the players to outplay two thirds of this division, which by my reckoning would include a team such as Gillingham.
I shall be there on Saturday, cheering on the reds and getting drenched according to the BBC website.
Five years ago, The Observer ran a poll to discover the 'Crappiest Ground' in English football.
........Gillingham's home 'won'.
I reproduce an email from an unhappy Gills fan for your amusement, along with the comment from an Observer Sport columnist.
Enjoy.
..........................................................................................................
As a Gillingham fan I found your report offensive and insulting. If you are reporting on the ground, report on the ground, not the local area. We have a decent stadium that doesn't have a bad view in the house. OK, it is overpriced but that's just because of media scumbags like you trying to get involved in football and messing it all up.
I would like to know who the 'football club spokesman' was that described the town as a dump. Agreed, Gillingham isn't the most welcoming of places to stuck-up snobs like you. Go to Deptford and write about Millwall - or do you not want to bad-mouth our capital city and reveal certain parts of it to be the scummy, dingy, places that they are? (Fair enough, you slated Selhurst Park for being a dump.)
Priestfield is undergoing a multimillion-pound redevelopment from the 'nothing more than a couple of cowsheds knocked together'. You have made our football club the worst place to visit in the country and you wonder why people hate the press. We can't all be posh London snobs, can we?
I was thinking about being a journalist when I left school, but all the rubbish articles changed my mind.
Dean Baxter
via email
Dean Baxter
via email
Scumbag Snob Editor replies (from Mayfair penthouse): As stated in last week's preamble 'the journey to the game and the crapness of the surrounding area' were important considerations. We can't change the rules now. And the poll wasn't exclusive to journalists: the main contributors (as listed) were fans.
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