We Will Remember Them

Once a year, (though really it should be much more often than that), I am reminded how trivial my day to day life really is.

As much as I enjoy filling days with thoughts about the fortunes of my local football team, Adidas trainers, 80's casual brands, searching out the best coffee in London and listening to music that makes me feel fine, it's all a bit meaningless.

Today being Remembrance Sunday, it is the time we bring to mind those who have fought in wars both recent and not so recent.

As I've got older it's become more and more pertinent to me.

As a small boy, I would go on parade wearing my Cub Scout uniform but I didn't really understand.

Now, I can look back at family photographs and hear tales of young men who died without reaching even half my current age.

What a waste.

I imagine most families in this country will have been touched by somebody close perishing in battle.

Today, I am particularly remembering Grandad Roy and Uncle Reginald.

Roy trained at the Old Royal Naval College, Greenwich and was killed on a depth charged submarine, HMS Sterlet, 18th April 1940, during WW2.

Grandad Roy, back centre 

Roy, a few months before being killed.

Reginald was injured in WW1 and sent home to recover.
Unfortunately, his lungs had been so badly wrecked by gas he died soon afterwards.

Reginald

We Will Remember Them

Ref'll Fix It

"Yooooorkshire. We are Leeds etc etc".

Charlton Athletic 2 - Leeds United 4
It's quite difficult to write this without coming across as a bitter old bloke, who can't accept it when his team is beaten.

As supporters of Charlton, we are unlike the supporters of the Sky 6, so we are quite used to taking defeat on the chin.

Today felt different though.

It's possible to be the better team, yet lose, at least in part due to odd decisions by an incompetent referee.

I was already in a stinking mood when I got to the Valley.

I'd only realised the game was having a delayed start due to a waterlogged pitch as I was walking from home, approaching the Valley Cafe on Charlton Church Lane.

At this road junction, coming down Delafield Road,  I witnessed a young lad having his Charlton scarf forcibly removed from around his neck, then the cowards run off with it into a laughing mass of northern bell ends.

Within seconds, I then saw two older ladies, (both looking to be in their seventies), being surrounded by drunken yobs with arms outstretched, beer bottles in hand, chanting "Yorkshire" in their faces.

It's safe to say Leeds United supporters were playing (down) to their reputation as a pathetic copy of our close neighbours from Bermondsey.

The game will be remembered for Ross McCormack scoring 4 goals but what it really should be remembered for is an appalling case of officiating.

I cannot deny McCormack took his goals well.
He is just the kind of player our potless club desperately needs but finances dictate it is a pipe dream.

Unfortunately, only his first goal wasn't somewhat 'ref assisted'.

Charlton equalised with a fantastic screamer from Stewart and at that point it looked as if there was only going to be one winner.
The Addicks were on a roll.

Charlton had been denied a cast iron penalty in the first half when Church was clipped running onto a goal scoring opportunity.
He had no reason to go down. It was as clear as day yet our Leeds supporting referee saw it differently and waved play on.

Within moments of the second half starting, in almost the same position as the Church incident, there was an almighty dive without much help from a timid challenge, yet our Yorky approved ref pointed to the spot.

Charlton equalised again after tremendous work down the left from Church, crossing for Jackson to poke the ball home.

Unfortunately, Leeds only had to get the ball back into the Charlton half for them to be awarded a dodgy free kick.
It had all the hallmarks of the kind of awful decision that gets chewed over in the pub afterwards and discussed by pundits.
Bad decision leading to goal.

Exactly that dreaded scenario occurred, with McCormack bagging his hat trick, though why Hamer decided to watch events rather than getting stuck in I have no idea.
Inside the 6 yard box he should be claiming everything but he may as well have not been there.

Leeds were highly fortunate to be in front, yet worse was to come.

In added on time, Leeds won another free kick. The 'offence' was a good 5 yards outside the area yet the Leeds Tom Daly ended up well inside the box, safe in the knowledge his pal would give him a penalty.

He looked shocked when he only received a free kick.

At 3-2 down, within added on time, we were all feeling cheated as we knew the better team hadn't prevailed.

That all changed though when McCormack scored his final goal, direct from the free kick.
4-2.
That's a thumping surely?
A wonderful strike, yet Hamer really could have done much better.

 Hamer didn't really have much to do today except pick the ball out of the net.
He wasn't called on to make any saves, unlike Kenny in the Leeds goal who made at least 2 world class stops and also saw his woodwork rattled.

It was one of those days today.
Our team played well and deserved better.

Leeds and their nauseating followers can head back up to Yorkshire, (or Sussex etc according to their flags) full of the joys associated with an away win.

They didn't deserve it but they won't care a hoot.
An away win is always the best kind of win.
Scoring 4 goals isn't something that happens regularly either so they'll be full of it.

Charlton can take solace from playing well, against 12 men.
We deserved to take at least a point despite what resembles an emphatic beating when seen purely as a result.

Maybe we will be allowed to bring our own ref to the game up at Elland Road?

Bore Draw

Charlton Athletic 0 - Blackpool 0

Today was not a classic, by any stretch of the imagination but Charlton can at least say a clean sheet has finally arrived.

Ben Hamer wasn't really called into action too much in the Charlton goal but the West Country custodian must gain some confidence from the shut out, especially as his performances have been under the microscope lately.

Last weekend, I couldn't see us winning a point before the International Break so two draws against fancied opposition isn't a bad return.

Today was a game nobody really deserved to win or lose.
It was dull, dull, dull.

I think Charlton will be happier with the point than Blackpool who surely must have arrived at The Valley, looked at our team sheet without Kermorgant, Solly, Jackson and Cort and reckoned it was a fine time to avenge the two defeats we inflicted upon them last season.

There was plenty of huff and puff from both sides but real, proper, attempts on goal were at a premium.

Other than Jordan Cousins long shot, that Gilks managed to push onto the post, Charlton were pretty toothless.
Church ran and ran (and ran) but nothing fell for him.
Sordell got into some good positions but in general, he just made me wonder why anyone felt the need to put a £3M price tag on him and Harriot tried hard, yet seemed outmuscled by the well drilled Seasiders.

Blackpool's large defence made sure all the long balls hoofed up front were repelled with ease.
We certainly missed the pugnacious Kermorgant.

At the other end, Wilson, Morrison and Wood were keeping the highly regarded Ince under wraps.

Both teams cancelled each other out.

Hardly a game to live long in the memory but it's a point I didn't expect, so I'm not complaining, (unlike the prize twazzock who was sitting behind us in the East stand).

He moaned from 3pm onwards, without cease.
He didn't seem to recognise many of our players and had very little of note to say other than the reds are "just not good enough" and "laughably poor", while exclaiming with disgust at every perceived misplaced pass or fumbled control.
It went on and on.
 He was having a horrible time, obviously hating every minute of his time at The Valley.

A man of such lofty standards must surely dress in the finest suits, live with a Miss World, dine out at Michelin starred restaurants while driving a DB9 to his obscenely highly paid job, before heading home to his luxury mansion.
His cover as an Old Man Steptoe clone was a masterstroke when trying to blend in.

The 100% support of Tuesday night was a distant memory around our parts today, mostly thanks to Moaning Mike.

I do hope he's not going to be a regular feature of home games.

That's More Like It.

Charlton Athletic 1 - Nottingham Forest 1

Ex CAFC Reid was very welcome back at the Valley.

The morning papers will have this down as a point won by both teams but from a Charlton perspective, this was so much more.

Despite an early setback in the second minute, when Andy Reid swung in a free kick, (only for it to catch Hamer flat footed and nestle in the net), a cobbled together Charlton side gave the kind of performance the supporters desired.

If the team had shown even half the commitment shown tonight at our previous home game against Millwall, the Lions wouldn't have had a prayer.

Against Millwall nobody really stood out for praise.
Tonight, the whole team deserve to be congratulated.

The Forest goal had a charmed life.
After barely creating a single chance of merit against Millwall and with much the same result up at Burnley, tonight there was wave after wave of Charlton pressure.
Chance after chance went begging, yet we 'knew' there'd be more to come.

Simon Church could have had a hat trick in the first half alone.
It was wonderful to watch.

Sordell scored the goal that looked like it could be the launch pad for Charlton to claim all 3 points but it wasn't to be.

The final touch just wouldn't come off but nobody can deny the team work and effort displayed to create those chances.

It's amazing what can be achieved when there's some belief.
The encouragement came pouring down from the stands and the players responded.

Lawrie Wilson was inspirational and it was his hard work that laid on the Charlton goal.

Before the game, as ever, I was convinced we'd be on the receiving end of a spanking.
What transpired was Forest were hanging on by the end.
Their 'keeper in particular was wasting a ridiculous amount of time.
Clearly they'd settled for what they already had.

It nearly backfired for them as in the closing seconds, Morrison could have won it for Charlton when he steamed in at the far post, onto a well delivered corner that went past the flapping keeper.

Had Morro stuck his nut on it as we expected, it couldn't have failed to end up in the net but it was at an awkward height so he went with his foot.
The ball missed the target and that was it.

I'm feeling quite elated after a draw.
It's an odd game eh?

C'mon!!

Supporters of Charlton aren't like many other clubs.

 We are quite like Brentford, Millwall, Leyton Orient and Watford though.

We (mostly) live now, or have lived for a period, in and around the South East part of a huge metropolis with hundreds of diverting and entertaining events going on daily.

Despite these wonderful cultural opportunities available, we decide we are going to watch football.

But where?

We live just a few miles from some of the most wealthy and successful football clubs in this country and beyond, yet we spend our time following one of those clubs the press would politely call 'lesser', in the same way they label anyone who didn't go to Eton/Oxbridge as 'ordinary'.

It's all very well living in some one horse town up North and becoming a hardcore follower of your local team.

When it's a choice between sitting on the wall outside Lidl, chugging away on an alcopop, or heading into the dry of the home end, it's hardly that much of a choice.

We have chosen to align ourselves with a club where the successes really *mean* something, as we have regular disappointments.

It'd be easy to be a Glory Boy in this city but we choose not to.

So, onto tonight.

Confident?

Of course not.

We are well used to disappointment, we are Addicks!!!

We have a severely injury depleted team, and an 'upstairs' that seems to have hardly enough money between them to service the debts, never mind make any improvements.

Come on Charlton fans. 

We know that on paper Forest should be giving us a right good hiding tonight.

They've spent around £6M this year while we've spent £0 propping up a team that's essentially a League 1 outfit.

Forest have star players we can only dream of.

Yet it's still just 11 v 11.

It's not impossible. 

Even if we are losing handsomely, we can still applaud the effort shown by our players.

We can give them strength by showing them we believe. We can be the difference between a player giving 80% and giving his all.

I'll see you there, 7:45pm.

(Bring your throat sweets.)

Oh and if it's confidence you're after, these might help.

Hmmmm.

Charlton Athletic 0- Millwall 1

....and so it came to pass that as usual, Charlton bent over and offered their submission to Millwall.

On paper, Millwall should have been there for the taking but we know differently.

If Millwall had gone 1-0 down in the first half, they'd have fully believed they only needed a brief moment of good fortune to regain parity.
They'd have gone for it, as we would have done against any other opposition except perhaps Manchester United, who also hold the Indian sign over us.

Charlton went 1-0 down and we already knew the game was up.

The weight of history on our players was too much to carry.
 It doesn't matter how poor Millwall are, they always seem to have the grit and good fortune to turn over Charlton.

Today had 0-0 written all over it.
Millwall were rubbish.
Charlton were equally so.

~One moment claimed the 3 points and local pride.

Pritchard lost possession after Charlton had been denied a penalty claim. A speculative shot deflected viciously off Dervite leaving Ben Hamer stranded.

1-0 down and that was it.

One day we will beat Millwall.
I refuse to believe that witnessing the wins in 1996 is going to be it for me.

The odds were stacked precariously against Charlton today.
The most one sided local derby featuring the team with surely the worst record on live television, being officiated by a referee who has probably given Charlton more reasons to complain than any other, was never going to end on a happy note for the Addicks.

So, bragging rights can go to Millwall.
Again.

Sometimes football makes me unbelievably happy.

Then there's days like today.

Point Gained

Watford 1 - Charlton Athletic 1

Celebratory smoke bomb after Yann's goal

There is nobody you dislike more than somebody who you used to really admire, only for them to let you down.

Many people who normally seem quite placid and carefree suddenly turn into the most vitriolic wounded animals, filled with hate when the subject of their previous partner crops up, especially if they feel 'wronged' by their ex beau.

In this respect, I have a massive problem with Watford and Gianfranco Zola.

I really dislike Chelsea. 
When I say really, I mean *really*. 

I'm not sure where this irrational hatred comes from.
 I just cannot remember a time when it wasn't there. 
Perhaps it comes from my grandparents who were season ticket holders at Leeds United through the late 60's and early 70's, during a period when Leeds and Chelsea were constantly at each others throats? 

Whatever the history, Chelsea and me just don't get on.

For a few seasons though, I not only suspended my dislike, I actually enjoyed seeing Chelsea and found myself purring with delight at some of their play.

The reason?

Gianfranco Zola.
I adored him. Truly one of the greatest players ever to play in our country. 

Watford?
I've been let down by them too.

Not so long ago, Watford were a club I know I'd have supported if I'd grown up in Hertfordshire. 
They had a pretty good academy and brought through some exciting local youngsters who made it to the first team. 
I remember Graham Taylor insisting that all his players lived within a few miles of Vicarage Road and were involved in grassroots projects to benefit the local community.
I was impressed. 

Today, Watford are everything I despise about modern football. 
Foreign owned with very little 'local' influence and a method of play that while looking attractive to home support, has cheating so far ingrained it makes me really dislike what football has become.

Gianfranco Zola has managed to harness all the aspects of the Italian game I find most repellent and transfer them to Hertfordshire. 
The diving, the waving of imaginary cards when 'winning' free kicks, the kicking out off the ball, the gamesmanship etc etc. just leave me shaking my head and wishing for those older, less 'win at all cost' days.

The fact that at the end of the game, many Watford fans booed the ref because in general, he hadn't fallen for the diving and rolling speaks volumes for how normalised the cheating has become at Watford.

The day started with a bang, meeting Hungry Ted at Euston before popping up to Spoons on Watford High Street.

The RoD on tour were already there, tucking into liquid lunches with gusto. We also met up with Rob from The Wrong Side Of The Thames who was excellent company, not least because of his clear love of a beer.

As ever, I was convinced we were going to be on the receiving end of a pasting, and announced I'd consider a draw a decent result.

Last season, Watford were a bit of a surprise with their (Udinese B) squad playing possession heavy football, then utilising swift attacking breaks, usually leading to Forestieri running onto a ball and doing a Tom Daly to win a free kick in a dangerous position. 

This season, we all know what to expect.

Something must have gone wrong though as at half time, not only had Charlton kept the score at 0-0 but were trouncing Watford in the possession stats. The BBC had Charlton keeping the ball over 70% of the time!

Watford looked dangerous but their final ball was woeful. 

The two talking points of the first half both happened up at the other end so they may as well have been on the moon. 
Some ants wearing red and yellow shirts seemed to clash while waiting for a corner, the home support erupted and the referee got involved.

Watford wanted the referee to believe Church had thrown a punch. He may well have done, I couldn't see, but the referee obviously didn't believe it so Church was left to carry on with just a yellow card to his name.

The other incident had Charlton poking the ball home, only for a flag to be raised.

Vicarage Road was more or less full. I couldn't see many gaps, other than the third side of the ground that has been a building site for the last few years.

Despite the home support having turned up in numbers, they really, really didn't get behind their team.

I'm not pretending the Charlton home support is anything wonderful as I know we can be somewhat timid at times but compared to Watford's yesterday, we are like a seething mass of Galatasary supporters!

Perhaps there's a hangover from last season?
If their bunch of foreign mercenaries had got their act together at Wembley to beat a clearly inferior Palace side, they'd have been at Old Trafford yesterday, instead of at home to Charlton.

The second half couldn't have started better from a Charlton perspective. 
 Wilson was brought down by a rather needless sliding challenge. A clearer penalty you couldn't wish to witness yet the Watford players all waved their hands as if Wilson had dived and the referee had been conned.

hmmm.

Yann stepped up, and calmly blasted the penalty into the roof of the net.
 It was the turn of the away end to erupt. 

The rest of the half was Watford trying to equalise, with one eye on trying to fool the officials (natch).

Watford got the goal they deserved when Hamer couldn't hold onto a long shot and the ball fell kindly for Pudil to poke home into the unguarded net.

Watford had a few chances to score a winner but the defence held firm. When they didn't Watford gave a masterclass in wasting good opportunities by blasting over the bar or choosing the wrong pass.

Johnnie Jackson could have won it for Charlton when a ball evaded everyone, coming in from the left, and he ghosted in at the far post.
Just the kind of chance he'd have gobbled up 9 times out of 10 but this time he sliced wildly.

The game ended with Watford feeling disappointed but Charlton considering it a a worthwhile point.

We all met up back in Spoons, to hear next weeks opponents Millwall had been turned over 5-1, at home.

giggle.

Hungry Ted, Rob and myself headed back to Euston to pop into one of our friend Al's favourite pubs, the Mable.

We bumped into some Millwall fans and I couldn't resist asking if they'd had a good afternoon.

Eventually, traditional kebab in hand, i sauntered home in time to fall asleep with the soporific MOTD pundits.

A top day out.