The Views Of Melvyn Bragg.

Bloody football.

Bloody Charlton.
Bloody Andrew sodding Lloyd Webber.

All in all, not the best evening.

The Adelphi theatre, showing Love Never Dies, must have been nearing 35 degrees C.  

Despite our tickets being in the 'upper' price band, my left leg became stuck to an octogenarian lady next to me due to the sweat, (me), and Lily of the Valley, (her), we were producing. 

The seats were obviously designed for Ronnie Corbett.

A bar of chocolate turned to soup and I thoroughly regretted wearing long trousers rather than the more laid back attire I'd sported all day.

The show was fantastic if you like that kind of thing.

Unfortunately I don't.

The wonderful electronic scenery, the freaky props and the very fit looking acrobats were very,very impressive but I found myself exchanging those "I can't believe this is so cringey" looks with Mrs CC.

I really can't abide it when characters sing to each other.

My idea of a musical is some acting, some dialogue, then a bit of a tune.

When people meet up and sing, "hello, you look well", to each other with no particular tune, just faffing about with a few random notes it's like finger nails on a blackboard to me.

Until last night, I didn't realise my iPhone lit up like a Christmas tree whenever there's a score update pushed through on the iFooty app.

Sitting in the dark, my aged, sticky legged friend, was able to follow what was happening at Shrewsbury nearly as well as I was.

A bit of a disappointment that our reserves didn't manage to hang on to a 3, (THREE) goal advantage but ultimately I couldn't really care less about the Carling Cup.

We weren't ever going to win it and our wafer thin squad can't really stretch to any extra games.

I was at the last game we won in the competition, three years ago, against Carlisle and we very nearly threw it away then too.

Our record in the competition is terrible so no surprises we lost.

It's all about Friday now.

I'll be there and I'm hoping for a completely different and much more entertaining time.


* Melvyn Bragg had absolutely no input or interest in this post. I'm sure he wouldn't be bothered by either Charlton Athletic or Andrew Lloyd Webber.
(He's more of a Barbara Cartland man anyway.)