The Exaggeration Game

Charlton Athletic 3 - Brentford 0.

Football supporters are fond of a massive dollop of hyperbole. 

We aren't born liars, we just like to lay it on a bit thick.

Only a few weeks ago, the less than massed ranks of the Rotherham support were announcing to whoever would listen that they are, 

"By far the Greatest Team, the World has ever seen!"

It's all just a verbal game. 

Nobody believes it for a second yet still it continues. 

"We're a fairly average second tier team who nobody outside our own postcode cares about," 

is closer to the truth for most sides but I can't see that particular verse catching on. 

Pre game yesterday, all I could foresee was a heavy spanking for the Addicks and yet more reasons to go home feeling totally despondent. 

Given just one of my companions agreeing with the suggestion, I'd quite happily have stayed in the pub for a few extra pints rather than heading over to the Valley.

I was comfy, why would I want to put myself through it?

The game on Tuesday against Norwich may have had a short spell when we scored two goals but nobody could argue the Canaries weren't streets ahead of our woeful bunch.

They deserved to win easily, even if the final score didn't reflect that. They were surely more than one goal better than us?

Fast forward a couple of hours yesterday and as far as any eavesdroppers are concerned, I'm piling on the superlatives, laden with dollops of exaggeration myself.

Asked by a Charlton supporting friend who wasn't at the game- and in all honesty hasn't been to the Valley since October, "What was it like?", my response was brief and to the point.

"Hundreds of times better than anything we've seen recently".

Those of us who were present at the Valley yesterday are the ones who know that just this once, that statement really is underplaying it.

After The Love Has Gone

My favourite book is probably shared by many people who 'discovered' reading in their early to mid teens.
I don't mean I couldn't read until then, I'd mastered the mechanics of it, just not much pleasure.

A particularly inspiring teacher sent me on my merry way with a few Steinbeck novels, notably The Pearl and Of Mice and Men, which lead me away from the flimsy copies of Shoot and Mad which along with Look and Learn littered my bedroom.

My favourite book is On the Road by Jack Kerouac. I couldn't say how many times I've read it but I revisit it fairly frequently so it's definitely at least 12+ times.
It never disappoints.

I found myself thinking of Jack Kerouac yesterday after the visit of Rotherham to the Valley.

Kerouac was one of the writers famous for chucking down his thoughts in one long (often punctuation free) stream of consciousness.

I found I was doing much the same while messaging friends post game, - long rambling missives just getting everything out.

I wasn't alone.

I tried my best to move away from Charlton chat and Charlton supporters by avoiding twitter for most of the evening but it was plain to see I wasn't alone with my verbal diarrhoea.

I've pretty much fallen out of love with Charlton Athletic.

There, I've said it.

I sat in the freezing East stand yesterday, watching what was masquerading as entertainment, nursing a barely hidden simmering rage.
I was hating every sodding minute of it.

The morning had gone well.
I'd had a few pints in Greenwich pre game and eaten some excellent street food from the market but once I got to the Valley I really didn't want to be there.
My sour outlook wasn't helped by Crispy deciding he was giving it a miss so once in my place, I had an empty seat next to me, mocking the fact that I'd been too weak willed to stay away, despite nobody forcing me to turn up.

Being without someone to talk to made me realise that actually the football isn't very important to me. Without the football as a reason to get together, it's unlikely I'd be meeting up with Crispy sometimes up to twice a week and that goes for all my other 'football friends'.

I value the company, the shared interest, the exchanging of views and of course the communal aspect of being at the Valley but not the way the soul has been removed from our club.

I hate what's happened to Charlton Athletic.

When we left the Premier league I still loved following the club.
The football was less good but there was a feeling of togetherness and the majority of the players you could tell were proud to wear our shirt.
Even in League one I loved it, though the football was even worse, there was still a collective feeling of who we were and what we stood for.

Now we have a situation where I look at the team and other than a few notable exceptions, it's a load of foreign 'not quite good enoughs' who are just passing through, with no empathy for the club or the area.

Yesterday was a massive turning point for me.
I realised I'm only at Charlton games out of habit.
This season I've been to fewer away games than ever since I started going. I don't feel any affection for the team or club anymore.
It's gone.

Guy Luzon surely broke a record when he had much of the home crowd booing him, only an hour into his first home game.
Our crowd are not stupid. We know we are being taken on a journey we don't want to take.
The highlight of the whole miserable afternoon was the North Upper chanting at Guy Luzon for Roland to sanction a substitution.

Nearly everyone I know who supports Charlton, is seriously contemplating whether to bother with next season. These are not your Johnny come lately supporters. They are all supporters who caught the Valley bug in years preceding the time in the Premiership so they've been around the block a few times.

Now, my circle of friends might not be representative of the fan base as a whole but surely it's a pointer that all is not well.

I have said many times that just because Roland bought the club, we are not obliged to agree with everything he does from that point on.

"But if he hadn't bought us we'd have been broke".

So what? I'm now watching him while he wrecks our club.
 It doesn't make you a 'better' supporter because you blindly follow some crackpot as he's in charge.
It makes you a moronic sheep.

I was pleased when Roland paid out for the club but his first major decisions were to sack Chris Powell and to wave off Yann Kermorgant, who went (unwillingly) to Bournemouth.
It was going to take something pretty spectacular to come back from those black marks and as yet he's not even come close.
He's actually made things worse with the transparent fibs surrounding the employment of Guy Luzon.

I want to feel something for Charlton but at the moment it's like watching a team as a tourist.
Sure I jump up and down when we score, (rarely nowadays- cheers Roland), but then I do that when I go and watch NY Rangers ice hockey or the NY Knicks basketball. They aren't my teams, I have no history with them beyond the annual visits and it's no more of an event than a trip to see a film.

I think Dave from Drinking During the Game managed to put what I feel into words so I suggest you look at this if you haven't already.

Model Behaviour

Watford 5 (FIVE) - Charlton Athletic 0.

Our club used to be considered a 'model', a decent blueprint for other aspiring clubs to follow.

We are still a 'model', it's just I can't imagine there'll be any other clubs looking at this particular way of doing things and wanting to follow the lead.

Yesterday, not one person I spoke to pre game thought we would be benefiting from the supposed New Manager Bounce.

If anything, the events of the last week had made the obvious cracks in the Charlton set up develop into great yawning chasms.

The away support stayed with the team- but didn't stay with each other.

I had to delay a (really quite necessary) trip to the toilets due to a bout of pushing, shoving, raised voices and the inevitable piling in of friends to support their mates, blocking my way to the sweet relief I was needing.

Watford will never have an easier game. 

I'm sure they have to put more effort in when doing their warm down sessions at the end of training.

It's lucky for us we were playing a team who were quite ordinary on the day. 

That's it. 

They were nothing special, yet still managed to give us the biggest hiding I can recall since a rather ineffective  and non festive Boxing Day trip to West Ham back in the Premiership.

We were that bad.

Imagine if we'd been playing a team who were really on fire? 

It could have been time to start rewriting the record books.

Etheridge, the latest in our revolving door of goalkeepers had a good game. Yet we still lost FIVE - nil.

On another day, if our keeper hadn't made some decent stops, it could very easily have been nine or ten- or more.

The only goal he was at fault for was the final free kick. 

From our position behind and to the left of the goal, we called exactly where the shot was heading and where the gap was. It was a well taken strike but the door was well and truly left open.

The game was up well before then though. 

With only 20 minutes on the clock it was clear to see there was only one team in it.

The Charlton crowd split into factions. There was a very large and vocal amount of people chanting for Roland and his smoking pants to leave us alone.

Then there were those people who seem to think they have an inside knowledge, announcing that if it wasn't for him we'd be in administration.

Yeah? And?

The fact that he 'saved' us from the situation with the spivs does not mean we have to agree with everything he ever does, from now until he grows tired of his experiment. 

History has shown that just because you've been on the receiving end of a 'helpful' gesture, it doesn't mean you are indebted forever.

Charles De Gaulle, way before he had been relegated to being known as an airport to the North of Paris, was looked after by the British in London throughout the Second World War.

 It's probably not an exaggeration to say the British saved his life. 

Instead of having a feeling of "merci" towards our country for the rest of his life, he actually turned into one of our greatest thorns, not least when he was the massive party pooper, blocking our entry to the 'Common Market' as it was then.

We don't owe Roland anything. 

Each decision should be taken on it's own merits and when we can see he's not acting in the best interest of our club, or telling porkie pies, he should be told and reminded we were here way, way before he was- and we'll still be here, long after he's just a footnote in a paragraph to be read by future Addicks with a shudder.

I still believe in our club but I don't believe in the arrangement of 'football incest' Roland has set up.

Maybe Guy Luzon is an amazing coach and motivator? I've no idea. 

I do know his English is crap, (as seen on the rather appalling press conference), he has the personality of a damp towel, he knows nothing of our club or the Championship and he's not allowed to work here due to work permit issues.

- Yet Roland says he's "the best man for the job".

Imagine how devastated the fictional 20 other applicants must be feeling to be thought of as a worse prospect than Luzon?

So.

Any positives? 

The new 'Reg Dwight' stand at Watford looks quite tidy.

Johnnie Jackson made the effort to come towards the away section at the end- but even he couldn't bring himself to come nearer than the edge of the penalty area- to applaud the fans who without fail had kept with the team.

Tony Watt made it to the front row and gave away his shirt.

We can get on our high horses and snigger about Watford supporters doing a 'Mexican Wave' but it's grasping at straws.

We were rubbish, Watford won at a canter and we were lucky they didn't go for the jugular.

It's time for us to lick our wounds.

Liar Liar Pants On Fire.

Step forward Guy Luzon.

From the moment Bob Peeters was shown the door, we all knew Luzon was heading for the Valley.

Despite the moans and groans of the Standard Liege supporters, who rather successfully campaigned for his exit from their club, I've nothing (yet) against him. 

Time will tell if Guy Luzon makes a good go of his reported 18 month contract in South East London, though of course Roland may well pull the plug way before then.

Charlton supporters have been treated as mugs. 

A lot of people would say that every single active football supporter of every club in the world is a mug. 

If I went to a restaurant and they served a bad meal I'd be unlikely to return.

 I'd certainly receive some questions about my sanity if I then started making arrangements to visit the establishment most weekends. 

Football is different to real life.

It doesn't matter how often we get to 5 o'clock on match days, feeling like we've had a kick in the knackers, thoroughly miserable, having had a joyless time.

 We all turn up at the next fixture, waving the hope over experience flag.

What I'm not prepared to accept though is being treated like a mug who won't recognise when he's being lied to.

On Saturday we were told The Bob Era had been a success so far.

By Sunday evening it had now become such an appalling disaster he had lost his job.

Apparently the decision was made after the Brighton game. 

Rather a hasty decision there Roland.

Either you're an impetuous hot head, (the kind of person who is unlikely to be a success in business) or your pants are quite obviously on fire.

Multimillionaire business tycoon Roland surely had Guy Luzon waiting in the wings, yet we were fed the garbage about the club making sure the next appointment of Head Coach was the 'right man'. 

Time would be taken. The search would be exhaustive.

We were lead to believe there would be shortlists drawn up and interviews held. 

What we weren't told is that we would get another jockey from Roland's managerial merry go round. 

We knew it would happen yet we are being asked to believe it's purely a coincidence that somebody already employed by Roland is that 'best man' for the SE7 hotseat.

Roland should be honest. 

He should say, "In my opinion, it wasn't working out with Peeters, so a few weeks ago I asked my old mate Guy Luzon to step in to steady the ship".

Why all the pretence that there'd be interviews and shortlists?

Katrien has come out of all of this with rather a large portion of egg on her face.

As the public face of the organisation and supposedly the voice of what is going on, she's ended up admitting in print that she's not aware of what's going on and is out of the loop.

She's looked less informed than some of the more active Charlton bloggers, many who were guessing aloud that Bob was on his way to be replaced by 'that bloke from Israel who got chased out of Standard Liege'. 

Sometimes my football club makes me feel very flat.

Now is one of those times.

Bye Bye Bob

Thanks for your efforts Bob.

The rumours that Bobby Peeters had 'lost' the dressing room had been floating around since a few days before the Blackburn FA cup game.

Anybody who was at that fixture would never have believed the players wearing red shirts were doing anything other than the bare minimum for their boss.

I sat with Hungry Ted in the East stand and we both despaired at the lack of application and honest endeavour. 

Though there were periods throughout the game yesterday against Brighton when Charlton looked to be making some pretty shapes, the end result of zero goals along with a, (at that point in the game), against the run of play goal conceded lead Bob to wonder aloud if luck was against us.

Hardly the birthday present he had hoped for, a 1-0 defeat with the sack the following day.

The fact that his contract was only 12 months means Roland won't have to shell out too much to pay him off but with every speedy dismissal, he makes it less and less likely we will be able to attract the kind of manager we all crave.

The good ship Valley has entered rocky waters again.

Four (at least??) head coach/managers in a year is not the Charlton we all got used to in the Murray- Curbs years. 

Let's all pull together and support the team.

BAAAAAAAAAH Humbug.

Charlton Athletic 1 - Cardiff City 1

Despite an appalling first half display from the Addicks, it wasn't the worst performance on show.

The bloke they found propping up the bar in Greenwich Wetherspoons, who ended up being given the ill fitting uniform and whistle stunk the Valley out with his ineptitude.

If you were there, you know what I mean and if you weren't, lucky you as I arrived at the Valley filled with Christmas cheer but he single handedly sent my blood pressure soaring to the point where I was, indeed, a potty mouth.

It's not big or clever.

The first half was a shambles from Charlton. 

1-0 down and reduced to 10 men, (against 12), I really couldn't see us getting away with anything less than a 3-0 spanking.

Despite turning down penalties, missing goal bound shots being stopped by an arm and 100% of the time giving Cardiff the benefit of every borderline decision, as well as some just plain wrong ones, the referee could do nothing about the way the Addicks pressed forward for most of the second half.

(Actually, that's not true as he managed to get in the way of a promising attack but we'll file that under stupidity rather than blatant cheating).

The best player on the pitch was Marshall in the Cardiff goal. 

I was pleased he was finally beaten after the shameless piece of play acting - pretending to be hurt and rolling on the floor as Charlton were pushing for the equaliser.

AND WHAT AN EQUALISER!!!!

Gudmundsson's 88th minute strike was one of the best I've seen at the Valley.

There was still time to win it as Charlton kept going.

The ball finally fell to Igor, (that's who we'd have chosen for it to fall to), and he raced clear of the defence…….. then blasted the ball over the bar.

Gutted.

A draw that could have been a win.

A moral victory when you're playing ten v twelve but still the single point.

That's 6 points dropped in the final few seconds as George, Bikey and now Igor have fluffed golden opportunities to win games in the closing seconds.

A game that will live in the memory for some time.

Happy Christmas to everyone (except the referee who will no doubt be heading back to the bosom of his family in South Wales).

Happy Christmas

I'm now thoroughly stuffed after a Christmas Day of somewhat overdoing it, and I hope you are too.

Christmas greetings to everyone who has popped by to visit my rather haphazard and irregular missives on this blog.