A Moment To Remember, A Game To Forget...

 

It's impossible for me to believe that there can be a single person who is honestly enjoying Charlton at the moment. Perhaps the most hardy of come-what-may, highs with the lows types are still clinging desperately to routine rather than genuine enjoyment, but as we, the fans, continue to be taken for absolute mugs by the club, even their patience must be stretched to breaking point. At a time our 'top six budget' should be gathering momentum for a promotion push we're facing down the barrel of a gun...yet again!

 

Are we about to enter the fourth tier of English football? How has it come to this?

 

Last night Charlton should have been driven on by the high-emotions and a boosted gate ready to set aside differences with the ownership for this one special night and get behind our Charlton. PC Palmer would have wanted that, right? Instead, those players in red froze under the focus. Not for the first time this season, our team resembled total strangers, shirked responsibility, lacked any fight and showed all the body language you'd expect from individuals that would rather be elsewhere (Jacko aside).

 

As always, if you want a match report then Kyle consistently performs in a way I wish our football team did.

 

Despite the obvious concern, I don't see us going down. The points difference is frighteningly tight, but we have a cushion of four teams below us before we get to the bottom four. I think that alone may save us. Surely we can amass a better points total in the last five games than at least one of the five directly below us? (*checks the current form table and face-palms)

 

For this season at least, that's me done.       

 

In truth, I made the effort to attend last night for one reason; to pay my respects to a fallen hero and fellow Addick, PC Keith Palmer. The football was always going to be secondary. Below is the footage I took of the pre-match tribute for PC Keith Palmer. Absolute class from everyone in attendance.

 

 

I shouldn't be so cynical, but anyone else find it odd that for the first time in ages the 'official' attendance seemed about right? No, perhaps we shouldn't dwell on that point... 

 

I can only hope that by the next time I make the journey to The Valley, Duchatelet and Meire will have gone, Sue Parkes will have been removed from the directors box and the new ownership will be building bridges to a disillusioned and suffering fan-base. Whether the Charlton I fell in love with ever returns, only time will tell. I miss it more than I can put into words, though.