Following the theme from Charlton Casual, I too have chosen a Smiths song title to best sum up how I feel at present. It perhaps says an awful lot that one of the most commonly accepted depressing bands of all time seem to fit quite comfortably with the current mood of an Addick.
I don't ask for much, but I feel massively let down at present. Last nights all-too-painfully predictable defeat leaves us 10 points off the Play-Off places and with absolutely no sign whatsoever that our form will spark in to life, I think it's fair to say that's it...season over. Totally unacceptable! Given the balmy Spring-like afternoon sunshine, I got frighteningly close to going to the game last night. God only knows why! So close, in fact, I made my decision not to go stood by the front door with my car keys in my hand. My missus couldn't believe it but after a tough day at work I just could put myself through the disappointment. My resolve is weakening. Instead I had a game of football in the front room with my 4 year old son, who was dressed head to toe in a Charlton away strip (he has football club on a Tuesday).
Perhaps the sentimentality of Powell returning did get the better of me. I'm pretty embarrassed by it all really, if I'm honest. I don't do that jingoistic nonsense normally, but I think I got sucked in this time, such is my admiration for Powell. Whatever he's asking of the players they are simply not capable of doing: not technically good enough. Whatever naivety Powell has tactically is, in part, understandable given his managerial experience, but to see the team take huge strides backwards has really shocked me (after all, it wasn't like it was hugely convincing before). But let me make it perfectly clear that I am not about to join any fledgling groups calling for Powell's sacking. No, we've made our bed and we must lay in it.
Early March and Charlton are confirmed as a mid-table Division 3 side. Brilliant! I can't wait for Saturday...
And all on a day when my season ticket renewal form dropped on my letter box. It remains un-opened. Through the cellophane I can see the words 'Back To The Future' beneath Powell's massive grin. It may well have just said 'Backwards'. Like a total and utter mug I will renew, no question. Hundreds of other existing season ticket holders won't have my loyalty/stupidity (delete as required) and the matchday gates will continue to fall. But the tipping point of my patience is - for the first time in the 17 years I've regularly watched the Addicks - just visible in the far off distance.
How I fear it getting closer...
But in life you need to have a perspective, and today's date, March the 9th, will forever offer a real leveller to me when considering the woes noted above. I will reveal more in a post later this evening...
Powell did get it all wrong last night, but like you, I'm not about to call for his head. I want him to get to the end of the season, have a clear out, bring in some players of his own, and run through a pre-season with them. Only after that can we actually judge the man.
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