Message to Mr. Slater

Thanks for the letter, Mr. Slater.

Your damn right, supporting Charlton isn't easy and it's most certainly not for the faint-hearted. You are also correct to assume my patience has been stretched to near-breaking point

But don't worry...as you may see from my previous post, I'm stupid enough to have signed up for another season.

"Thick and thin" eh?

Now all I ask from you, Mr. Chairman, is that you give me a Charlton team I can be proud of.

Signing Up...

There it sat...on my desk at work: my season ticket renewal form looking at me with that pitiful and hapless expression. Charlton want my money again to build towards a better future...

375 sheets of my hard earned cash for what? Nothing other than continued disappointment and a gut-wrenching pain that just doesn't seem to go away.

But wait...my seat offers a fantastic view of the pitch, overlooking the half-way line. Perhaps I should be grateful that I get a better view than most of the shite on offer.

Of course, it was never in question. I renewed: signed in for another year.

£375 lighter...heart getting heavier...patience running thinner...hope fading fast.

Sort it out, Chrissy. Sort it out.

We're Due A Performance...Positive Thinking!

Not that I'm holding my breath for one...but...

Just as all good runs come to an end, the same logic could equally be applied to bad ones. Charlton are due a performance: Charlton fans are most certainly owed one.

What we want is one of those bright Saturday afternoons where, from out of nowhere, it all clicks into place and we absolutely hammer the opposition. The goals fly in and the buzzing Valley crowd are unified in delirium, singing the name of our much-loved leader sat in the Director's Box like a naughty school boy, grinning from ear to ear.

In my mind I can see it...clear as anything: Francis finally completes a pass to a teamate, Llera and Dailly look like they can 'speaka de samea language', Semedo and Racon manage to control the ball first time (without it hitting their chins in the process), Reidy and Waggy are whipping in vicious balls for fun and BWF is growing ever bored of converting them. Not least of all, young Jenkinson gets to taste victory at last, crowning his big day by bagging the 9th and final goal of the afternoon with a 85 yard screamer with his left foot.

Come Monday, we'll all be writing that our season is back on track and Brighton is now our target.

Oh, what the hell! I don't want to keep being depressed.

Come on you Addicks!

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want...

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...

Loyal or Stupid?

Sometimes I do have to remind myself that following Charlton is optional. If I want to, I could claim not to support anyone anymore, disassociate myself from football altogether and find something 'better' to do with my time. Even I know deep in my heart that it is beyond any sensible reasoning that something that (by and large) continually makes me so belly-achingly unhappy still deserves my continued and unconditional support, let alone a priority status up there with my wife and two kids! I have wondered many times what my life would be like without Charlton and, rather bizarrely, the balance is still tipped in favour of the Addicks...but I couldn't explain why. It's likely I just don't want to face up to a question like that. The problem is, it's all or nothing. If Charlton are at home, I go, simple as that. There is no picking and choosing a dozen fixtures a season: no 'dipping in and out'. It's not the way I do things.

Loyal or just simply stupid? My Mum would say loyal (but then my sentimentality comes from her, so I guess I would) but nobody else I know would be as easily convinced or care. I feel genuinely embarrassed that my wife, who used to love football, has long-since given up trying to understand my Addicktion. When I get home after a game she doesn't even ask how we got on anymore. It's almost like it's a taboo subject in case it stirs me into some sort of uncontrollable rage! So if it is that commendable trait 'loyalty', what do I get in return? Moments of magic are painfully infrequent and so often based on momentary delirium rather than long-term happiness. Granted, I've had magic moments that will live with me forever, but the periods of despair seem to resonate deeper. But before I'm accused of being delusional, I don't expect the earth: I no longer dream of a return to the Premiership. I've said a few times in past postings that what I crave more than anything is a season of mid-table mediocrity, just so long as it's in the Championship. And that's the point, Charlton should be one of the bigger 2nd tier football clubs that may occasionally delve into the top flight for a season or two when a particularly encouraging group of players come together. I'll confess that 3rd tier football is slowly breaking my heart. I just want it to go away.

It is certainly tough being an Addick.

When Charlton emerge from the tunnel on a matchday I have, for as long as I can remember, followed a forced habit that my delusional mind no doubt believes may bring us good luck. I will sing aloud to the sounds of the 'Red, Red, Robin', follow the captain (it must be the captain) for his first few steps before glancing up at the big Charlton badge that overlooks the stadium atop the West Stand. When that lump stops forming in my throat during this process I know I've taken as much as I can...

Sinking...

A truly dire night in SE7. Yet another awful performance, particularly from an unbelievably bad and embarrassing midfield. I'm left close to speechless at how poor Charlton are.

And with the visit of Tranmere on Saturday comes our first relegation 6 pointer!

I can't wait!

Two Steps Forward...Two Steps Back

How typically Charlton! I'm not sure what disheartened me more on Saturday: the obvious disappointment of defeat after another abject performance or the gut-wrenching sadness of such a sizable missed opportunity when the Valley was once again packed to near-full following the excellent marketing efforts from the club to woo back those fans lost in the clubs demise. The percentage of those who will return against Carlisle a week tomorrow will not be easily noticeable as the stark difference in gate highlights the mammoth task Charlton have in turning the clubs fortunes around. Chris Powell will not be naive to importance of that lost opportunity (even if some of the players are), but with his honeymoon period firmly over, we need him more than ever to lift the spirits of the Addickted. Clutching at straws it might be, but at least the fans never turned on the team. things could so easily have turned ugly as the game slipped away. It seems near-impossible for me to comprehend, but I guess there is a slim chance that there would have been willing Mum's and Dad's who would have bought their young children along for an affordable day out at the football (possibly a first experience) and may well have actually enjoyed it: we did see goals, after all.

But in reality, we have seen it all many times before. Charlton build up a day to something more like the final game of the season when promotion is just a point away, and we blow it every time. How fantastic it was to see the approach roads to The Valley bustling with hopeful fans. I've not forgotten those sights that were so common-place in the Premiership, although sometimes I truly wish I could so they wouldn't seem so poignant. Decent pre-match entertainment lifted the mood still further. My Mum came to the game with me and I would have so dearly loved her to have seen the Addicks put on a show so she could experience the Valley reverberating in hopeful unison. When the Valley was packed week-in week-out during the Premiership years, tickets were harder to come by unless I compromised my usual vista half way up the East Stand overlooking the half way line, so days like Saturday don't come around too often. I wonder how long we'll wait for the next one?

Whilst off the pitch the club are showing brave and encouraging steps forward, the obvious problems on the pitch remain. I will not cast aside Powell's four straight wins as manager before the two recent defeats, but even the most hardened optimist would not have failed to notice the frailties throughout that decent run of results. It is a fair point that we've have some sizable slices of luck recently, and it was always likely to run out. Until Powell solves the issue of how easily and consistently the play breaks down in a central midfield that seriously lacks a ball-playing, attack-minded footballer, then Charlton will sadly remain a club rooted within the third tier of English football. Passing the ball through the team has been too much for Charlton for 5-6 years now (since Danny Murphy left, perhaps). CP must trawl every contact in his phone book to try and bring in someone on loan before it's too late. Sadly, a player of quality won't be easy to find with what Charlton could afford to pay in wages. Automatic promotion seems a world away, and even the odds of success through the Play-Off's appears to be diminishing as the games pass by.

A tough game beckons on Friday night - when I'm less than hopeful of getting anything from the game - before a tricky midweek game at The Valley a week tomorrow. Mid-table looks more likely now than the top of the league.

Yet again Charlton search desperately for a spark of inspiration!

Looks like I'll have to keep on dreaming...ever hoping!