Following on from Norwich, this was our second successive game where the home team had just changed their manager.  Whereas the sacking of Nigel Worthington was inevitable, the dumping of Iain Dowie after just three months was more surprising.   The admirable Charlton programme contained several contradictory comments on the sacking.  The chairman, Richard Murray, calls it a “structured decision”.  Apparently it was because Dowie could not make his role of Head Coach work within the context of Charlton’s coaching structure.  Pardon?

The nail was probably hit more squarely on the head in an article by local radio presenter, Tom Watt, which was provocative although full of twisted logic.  He calls the decision “an act of courage”.  I can’t ever recall making someone redundant before he’s had a chance to prove himself an “act of courage”.   Tough, yes; courageous, no.  He does, however, make the real critical point which is that the increase in TV money next season means that the threat of missing this gravy train created the “pressure which forced the board’s hand”.  He further makes the depressing point that the additional revenues will almost certainly go straight into the player’s hands.  Therefore, Dowie is sacked to ensure the further enrichment of the players.  Great.

Mr Miller will be interested in a passage by Watt where he comments of the economic gulf between the Premiership and the rest.  He opines that some clubs are, nonetheless, able to bridge the gap through either canniness (e.g. Charlton of course) or luck (e.g. Wigan!!).  So, we are led to believe that a club on the Northern League 30 years ago reaches the Premiership through luck.  Cockneys push Manyoo fans hard in the one-eyedness stakes.

But there is a lot to admire about Charlton Athletic.  This is an orderly, civilised and friendly place, not your typical aggressive London club.  You have to admire the resilience and persistence of the fans in saving the club and preserving their presence at the Valley.  Their fight to preserve not only their club, but also their ground, arguably led the way for those in similar battles (Bristol Rovers, Brighton, Barnet to name but three).  Some lose the battle of course, Wimbledon being the most notable.  Not only have Charlton survived but a club that is supposedly “flirting” with the Premiership (Manning, J., 2005) have spent 18 of the last 20 seasons in the top flight.   

There is something else appealing in Charlton’s background.  Their history is not one of a cricket or rugby team club branching out.  Their origins emanate from a group of lads playing football in the street.  After a few abortive attempts to settle at a ground, they found the Valley, a marshy field with steep banks formed from excavated rubble.  Their cause was helped by the move of Woolwich Arsenal out of the area, creating a sizeable fan base for the club. As well as all this, of course, they gave their name to a 30’s dance craze and it’s also the birthplace of the redoubtable Ashington brothers who helped us win the World Cup in 66.

A trip to a London game is an opportunity for a weekend away and so off we set.  I had my head buried in a book and so, unfortunately, I missed the Harlequin Centre.  We enjoyed a bacon butty at London Bridge in one of those wonderful cafes that you only seem to get in London, usually run by Italians although this one had a distinctly Slavic influence. 

Charlton is one of the easiest London grounds to get to via public transport, a 15-minute train from London Bridge taking you to Charlton and a 10-minute stroll to the ground.  After the fertile real ale valleys of Norwich, we arrived at the SE London desert.  Fortunately, my pre-match research had told me this would be the case and we soon gave up the search for any pub of any level of decency.  In fact, we saw no pub at all on the walk from the station.  Fortunately, Charlton is only a couple of miles from Greenwich (more below).

Per Mr Manning’s recent comments, it’s a good ground with excellent viewing all round.  You can imagine how this was once the biggest ground in England.  The ground sits in a dip with two of the stands sitting well below the surrounding ground.  These were once the huge banks of terracing that provided the most of the capacity for their record attendance of more than 75,000 for the visit of the perennially attractive Aston Villa in 1938.

The first fifteen minutes were all Everton, with Charlton looking woefully short of confidence.  Everton camped in the Charlton half, with the ball pinballing around the Charlton box.  Slowly the Addicks took a foothold in the game and it evened out but with few goalmouth incidents.

So what’s the origin of the nickname Addicks, which has taken over from those other stated Charlton nicknames of Robins and Valiants?  That’s your quiz question.  Only Mr Pagett got the last one.

A short interjection.  I’m writing this while watching the geezers on the box.  Apparently the Fulham-Arsenal game features some pirates because Paul Merson’s just said there’s been another bookineer.  They seem to be featuring barra boys tonight (Gayle, Cottee, Walsh and a possibly drunk Merson). 

The second half started in the same vein as the first and, just when it seemed that a goalless draw was the inevitable result, Everton took the lead after 52 minutes.  An ordinary free kick came in and Osman’s flicked header appeared to present no danger until it flicked off Hreidarsson’s leg and wrong-footed Carson.

The goal seemed to spur Charlton on and, led by the excellent Andy Reid, they came right into the game.  By now he was running the game, giving a midfield masterclass.  He is an odd-looking player by Premiership standards, being a prime suspect in a pie shortage.  The only player we’ve seen so far who put in a better display of one player domination was Jason Koumas for West Brom at Forest four seasons ago.  Coincidentally, Reid played in that game and was Forest’s best player by a distance.  He’s carrying more weight now but his low centre of gravity gives him strength and balance on the ball.  He rarely wasted the ball, having an uncanny knack of knowing when to play the easy ball and when to try something more adventurous.  He created space when there appeared to be none, regularly squirming out of tight situations.  All this, plus a lot a great shot too.

The turning point came when Les Reed abandoned a 4-5-1 by replacing Darren Ambrose with Marcus Bent, a player who appeared to have more rapport with the Everton players and fans than his own side.  It was nice to see the great reception the Everton fans gave him.  This is something that the Neanderthal Villa fans should learn from, their pathetic booing of players like Vassell and Yorke only serving  inspire them to score against us.

Bent forced the previously immaculate Nuno Valente into a rushed sideways ball which ran into the path of Reid, who hammered it home from 20 yards.  The goal was no more than Reid deserved.  Charlton pressed forward, led by Reid and the hopelessly erratic Rommedahl, who beat players easily through pace and trickery only to squander positions time and again through woeful crossing and shooting.  An out-of-sorts Darren Bent missed two good changes, one a clear header from about eight yards.  Reid had a thunderbolt well saved by Howard.

In the end, the draw was probably about right.  Everton were organised but offered little up front without Andy Johnson.  Beattie looked very ordinary.  They have one player who moves right into the top ten of irritating players: James Ms Fadden.  What a tiresome cry baby and, what’s worse, hirsute.  According to this irksome oik, every tackle on him was a foul, every header he went up for resulted in a claim for a push or clatter into the back of his neck.  He spent most of his time haranguing Mr Wiley.  It’s a shame because he played quite well and looked dangerous at times.  It’s no wonder Graham Poll had enough after 19 minutes. 

Carsley is a throw back to the Lyons, Bernard, Pejic and Darracott of the 70s “Pass the Ball Back, Everton”.  Arteta looked quite good but there was stymied by the unimaginative running of his colleagues.

As for Charlton, it looks grim.  Confidence is rock bottom.  No-one showed it more than Luke Young, who did nothing right all game.  Matt Holland rarely touched the ball, and the centre back pairing of Hreidarsson and El Karkouri looked vulnerable.  They desperately need Darren Bent to find form and playing him as a lone target man will never work.  Surely they will have to persist with the two Bents.

After the game, with traffic gridlocked and train queues long, we walked the two miles into Greenwich.  Along the Woolwich Road, we passed the pubs that that been mentioned by various football guides as the local football pubs.  They did not look inviting.

Thank goodness for Greenwich.  For anyone visiting Charlton, and wanting a couple of pints beforehand, I would strongly recommend Greenwich with its cracking pubs, restaurants, markets and various attractions.  It’s only an 8-minute train ride to Charlton.

For our evening entertainment, we were too tired to face going to a theatre, so we opted for seeing a film at one of the cinemas around Leicester Square, something we had never done before.  Casino Royale being sold out, we opted for Starter For Ten at the Empire.  A cool 25 quid for two tickets.  25 quid!!  This was an entertaining film for the most part, worth seeing if only for the uncannily accurate impersonation of Bamber Gascoigne by Mark Gattis. 

Reminds me of another true story.  Mr Nuttall and I went to Granada Studios in the early 70’s to support Bangor in University Challenge against Merton, Oxford.  The main reason we went was to support our Football Club captain, a remarkably eccentric and clever character called Ian Charnock, who was captaining our team.  He was not a fan of Bamber, who he felt was elitist and intellectually arrogant.  He was determined to show Bamber up. 

Well, we weren’t being completely outclassed as Mr Charnock waged a one-person battle with Merton.  As I recall, the final score was something like 280-140.  But Ian’s moment came about half way through.  A question came up about the particular personality trait of some fictional or historical character; Dave could probably recall the question.  Ian buzzed in and said: “cupidity”.

Bamber struggled with this and was clearly waiting for someone to explain this word in his earpiece, when Ian added:  “er, that’s love of money Bamber”.  Job done.

For those who may be interested, Mr Charnock writes novels about Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, available from Amazon at a reasonable price.  He also dresses like Sherlock Holmes and drinks like a fish.

There were two other notable events that evening.  One was seeing Anne Kirkbride (Dreary Barlow to you and  I); she was gorgeous.  No, I’m not kidding.  Ask Dave.  The other was me being mistaken for Ray Stiles, the Mud guitarist, and being asked for my autograph.  Mud were in another studio that night.

And what’s that to do with Charlton Athletic?  Nothing. 

I seem to have digressed a lot in this one.

Next stop:  Accrington, and some corporate hospitality from Fraser Eagle.  Can’t wait. Will it be prawn pie?  I’m reminded of Ripping Yarns.

Total Ground Number: 57
Current League Ground Number: 50