Simple question today Lord Alan Curbishley OR Sir Chris Powell OR Grandpa Sam Bartram The reason for your choice is up to you. AllHell
Lord Charles Llewelyn Curbishley of Upton Park is propbably how he would like to be styled since although he is a Charlton legend his heart belongs to the whammers who he played for and wanted to manage. Charlton was always a bit of circumstance for the player to become a manager. Yes he was a good one and one that we should never have let go and I will always be grateful for the great work he undertook. The ground as it is today is a testament to money foregone in the transfer market whilst we still held our own in the premier league. Also a peerage is probably a step to far for an unemployed man with divided loyalties Grandpa Sam was before my time and, great though he was, I for one don't relate. Sir Christopher George Robin Powell has a ring to it that doesn't sound hollow. He gave his all for us and the country as a player and moved on with grace and dignity to play elsewhere but came to help defend when the hour was nigh. When passed his playing days he was needed again he returned and like a great general identified weakness and strengthened both the defence and attacking capabilities calling on the French foreign legion for one of its great soldiers as well as scouring the land for from the west country to the northern borders for troops with quality and fighting spirit. Into the valley came the marauders from other realms and they were repelled. He has also committed a great deal to the wider community beyond Charlton. Despite claiming an alliegance to the spuds for which he may be forgiven if you cut him it will always be valley red blood that he spills.
Sam Bartram - "Soon after the kick-off," he wrote in his autobiography, "[fog] began to thicken rapidly at the far end, travelling past Vic Woodley in the Chelsea goal and rolling steadily towards me. The referee stopped the game, and then, as visibility became clearer, restarted it. We were on top at this time, and I saw fewer and fewer figures as we attacked steadily." The game went unusually silent but Sam remained at his post, peering into the thickening fog from the edge of the penalty area. And he wondered why the play was not coming his way. "After a long time," he wrote, "a figure loomed out of the curtain of fog in front of me. It was a policeman, and he gaped at me incredulously. "What on earth are you doing here?" he gasped. "The game was stopped a quarter of an hour ago. The field's completely empty".' He played in goal for Charlton for 22 years, and was never dropped from the team until he retired in 1956. But Jimmy Seed was the Manager
