Charlton Athletic Article - please read

Now I haven't read this back yet so bare with it; it may seem a bit unfocused and lack cohesion. I started writing this last week after the possibility of a ground move was mentioned for my site (www.sendawaythetigers.co) but it was too niche and too lenghty but I wanted to share it with you lovely people. Hope you enjoy it! (again I have borrowed some posts from users on here; wwocb I loved your passionate and sensual account of a trip to the valley) - It is long by the way...


Football... Bloody Hell

My earliest real memory is not of eating Ice Cream in a park, unwrapping Magic sets on Christmas Mornings past or even of my first School days. It is of Eric Cantona. I was 5 in May 1996 when Cantona jerked his body half a yard back and elegantly placed the ball in the bottom corner of the net and sent 45000 people into dream land.

Of course there were memories before but none had ever evoked such passion or emotion; none had fired me before. This was the first time I had ever felt real. And it began a lifelong love for me. It was a bonding thing for example. I remember watching afternoon kick-off’s in the Bexleyheath Working Man’s Club with My granddad Alec and a Tuna and Sweetcorn roll, I remember the pride of captaining the Mayplace Primary School A-team, the weekly arrival of Match! Magazine through the post, the indecision of choosing my first football boots (silver Nike R9’s meant I was the most stylish of centre-halfs).

Now I don’t want to sound clichéd (I’m aware I probably already do) in this piece. I’m aware that football is just a game. I don’t particularly enjoy watching football as a sport anymore. Yet my Love for Charlton Athletic is still (sadly) almost unparalleled. Charlton are a part of my life now; they are more than just my football team.

I went to my first Charlton Athletic match in autumn 1996. It was Grimsby at home and whilst I can’t remember the score I can recall all of the sights and sounds; as the steam left your mouth on this dark cold night it seemed to reflect the roar of the crowd as heroes like Mark Robson and the exotic Scot Stuart Balmer played out the hopes of a community. (Grimsby Town featured a young Clive Mendonca that evening)

I got my first season ticket in time for the 03/04 season -a season which coincided with Charlton’s best Premier League finish to date and displayed the mercurial magic of Paolo Di Canio – and have been a regular ever since.
In that time Charlton have suffered awfully and been relegated from the esteemed Premier League and from the Championship. They are now in the third tier. And this has really made me re-evaluate my stance on football.

I have fallen out of love with Football; it’s almost a joyless marriage now. Sure this may be because I have grown up (politics, music and life has taken over). But I’m inclined to believe it is because I have opened my eyed to the real cynical world of top tier football.

Growing up I witnessed the top multi-million pound business that we see pumped into our houses and heads non-stop by bSkyb for money, the mega stars of Beckham, Ronaldo, Henry and co, the soulless stadiums and the drama of who would win the league this season be confined to 3 teams.

When Charlton were in the Premiership it was hit and miss. Yes you got to see genuine stars and artists at work but at the same time nothing ever happened; you won a few games against Blackburn and finished 14th.
Football at the top level isn’t a sport. It is a business. A business which sustains an obscene amount of money and where the rich get stronger and the poor grow weaker with every kick and a vast divide exists that will – without likely foreign investment - never be bridged.

And that’s not what I came to love about Football. A team like Swansea City playing the beautiful game will get no-where just through playing the game well for example.
(I won’t be getting involved in the ‘footballers earn too much’ debate; of course they do, but surely it is only fair? After all they generate the money they earn – without their talent, fire and skill there wouldn’t be anyone willing to pay extortionate fees to watch the matches.)

But this lower league football which we never wanted to be exposed to has made me a born again fan.

Last Saturday Charlton filled The Valley (26,600) against relative minnows Stevenage Borough. Stevenage have come to this league with back-to-back promotions and demonstrate real community football; they have no big time charlies and no illusions; they are what football is all about. And it’s amazing to be a part of that.

After several years of decline, Charlton (now helmed by a club legend and idol Chris Powell who has the club at heart) are back on the up; leading the division relatively comfortably. I have mixed feelings about success now.

Our demise led to financial ramifications that threatened to cripple the club; a new owner emerged who we know very little about and, given the rise in fortunes on the pitch, it was mentioned last week about the possibility and potential of moving the team to a new ground in the rejuvenated Greenwich/Canary Wahrf area. This is not out of necessity. The Valley is a 27,111 seater stadium. with an average attendance of circa 15,000. Even in the Premier League ‘Glory Days’ when expansion was talked up, a crowd of 40,000 seemed unlikely.

I should imagine a lot of you are unfamiliar with the story of Charlton Athletic. I won’t bore you any further than I have already but it is key to understand that the club nearly ceased to exist in the 1980’s and early 1990’s due to financial issues. They went several years without a home as The Valley was deemed unsafe, and returned in 1992. So there is a great spiritual bond between the fans and The Valley ground; it is a Cathedral to many and a move away is sacrilege.

Everything we love about Saturdays at the ground will change - the walk along Floyd Road, the smell of the various burger vans, pushing through the queues of people collecting their tickets, the sound of Valley Floyd Road coming from above as you queue for the turnstiles, getting in, the first site of the jagged architecture where nothing matches, running up the hideous but homely concrete stairs, ignoring the jackpot sellers, loitering around with a beer watching the TV’s. Going up to your seat, the banter with other fans as you try to get past to your seat. All the familiar faces and voices around you – their lives and loves imagined out in your head and yours in theirs, your own unique view of the Valley pitch.

The same individuals who through the course of the game, try to get terrible chants sung...that same idiot who always shouts out 'get him off he's ****!' as soon as someone makes a mistake. The iconic post-match tunnel jump, waiting for ten minutes to even be able to move from your row after the game, the crowded walk back to the car/bus stop/train station and overhearing snippets of game-analysis' from each group of fans (everyon thinks they are Alan Hansen) that you pass, the occasional trip to the chip shop and the chats with the friendly away fans who use it. Walking up the road trying to avoid the horse **** spewed out by the (quite frankly camp) Police Horses, the calls of 'all trains into London go left' from the police lady sitting on a horse. Running to catch the train or the bus.

That experience is Football. That experience is what unites a community. Not seeing a man paid £100k per week kiss the badge that he scored against last season.

I'm too apathetic to ever protest about the Tories destroying life as we know it, but I would literally chain myself to a goalpost if they ever moved to a soulless arena.

Charlton’s own successes may be our own demise; If we were to ever move grounds then for me personally, Football can find someone else.

 

Wow, you're actually (A year) younger than me. Really did not expect that with your quality of writing. Don't suppose you are/looking to be involved in journalism?

Another great piece of writing and I mostly agree with the sentiment of it.

 

Thanks Ryan! I'm always conscious of putting my age up on here as I think it may detract from your arguments...

I've just started writing since I finished uni whilst I'm between jobs really - I quite enjoy it.

 

Well I'm more than twice your age and I thought the article was great.

 

The youth of today have obviously got too much time on their hands.

 

Great article well written. I agree with all your sentiments and even now I get the odd hankering for my spot on the old SE terracing and all the assorted individuals who claimed their own personal crash barrier each week.

 

Best article from you so far, Kish - beautifully written - keep it up.

 

Thanks for the kind words everyone, you're always so lovely on here - very complimentary.

I have to say a lot of my views are compounded/inspired/informed by the eloquent/thoughtful/witty debates found on Not606

I don't use any other forums but I should imagine you'd be hard pushed to find a better bunch of posters than on here (this is another reason to be proud of our club too I believe)

Here's too many more seasons of Not606ing

 

Great article! I don't often post much on here but I follow not606 and read it many times a day, and also being a Media Production and Journalism student at Uni I find this forum so useful for inspiration and generating a view.