Athletic Support

Many miles....

Chapter 1: Tuesday 14th January 2025. Watching Charlton Athletic playing away from home three times in a week (well, eight days to be precise, but let's not split hairs, eh!), entailed a combined round trip of roughly four hundred and seventy miles from my Retfordian homestead. But that's small potatoes compared to the efforts of the hardy bunch of Addicks supporters, who have travelled up all the way up from south London (and back) to watch the same three games, having clocked up over one thousand two hundred and thirty miles in the process of doing so, once they eventually arrived home from Bolton, in the wee small hours of Wednesday morning.

I was chatting to some of the Charlton ‘old guard’, guys who never miss a game, home or away, on Rotherham station prior to the second installment of this trilogy of games and they merely shrugged off the logistics of the piece, pragmatically counting their blessings that such a top heavy travel schedule wasn't the norm, whereas clubs like Plymouth, Exeter, Sunderland and Middlesbrough et al face similar long hauls every other week.

You see, these sort of logistics are par for the course, for those amongst us who are caught in the tight grip of a severe case of football addiction (and aren't even remotely interested in finding any form of rehabilitation). At some point we’ve all tumbled unceremoniously over the tripwire representing the very narrow dividing line between dedication to the cause and being stark raving funkin’ bonkers.

Journeying far and wide, to some of the least aesthetically appealing towns and cities imaginable, with a regularity that falls outwith the parameters of comprehension for those weird sort of people, who we all know, that don't even like football (I know! I know! But as odd as that seems, they really do exist), is an all consuming way of life for some of us.

It will take two hours and six minutes to seeget there (‘there’ being the car park over t’road from Preston North End’s Deepdale ground), so said Google maps, when I checked earlier in the afternoon. Alas that guesstimate was wrong, very wrong. Factor in roadworks on both the A1 and M62, add an almighty snarl-up where the M60 meets the M61, then compound matters by staging what seemed to be the regional finals of the ‘let’s see who can drive like the biggest wanker that's ever taken a car onto a motorway’ championship, in the area and woo-hoo! Chaos abounds.

This all added up to a whole heap of time consuming obstacles, spitefully combining to thwart my quest of reachy Sir Tom Finney Way, in time to grab some sustenance before the game. All told it actually took me over three and a half hours to (almost) reach my destination.

Abandoning my car in what I hoped was a legal parking spot just off the Blackpool Road became a necessity as I edged snail-paced towards the floodlights. I’d set off just after 4pm for a 7.45pm kick-off. Yet the players were already out on the pitch shaking hands as I found myself a place to sit down to watch the game, in with the 716 Charlton fans who were present amongst tonight’s crowd of 7,734.

Oldham is renowned for being the chilliest ground in the country; but here, forty miles to the north-west of Boundary Park, my frozen toes were telling me that the Preston climate was making a serious bid to usurp the cold cup from that other team called Athletic’s grasp. It's character building stuff this spectating sporting events in the chill of deep winter. Just three day ago tonight’s rearranged cup-tie was originally postponed, because of snow, ice and sub zero temperatures.

Anyway, where were we? Oh yes! Narrating my ‘neutral’ spin on the Addicks elimination from the FA Cup, at the third round stage. Truth be told I could have spared you this lengthy epistle and summed up the whole night in just four words: They-were-bloody-unlucky. The better team on the night made a couple of defensive errors, both of them gifted the hosts their two (and only two) attempts on goal that they managed to get on target all night, with which they subsequently stole the spoils.

As travesties go, this result was a real biggie, a complete inequity on s grand scale. But the record books will merely show that PNE defeated opposition from a lower division, by a narrow margin… and nobody will ever be any the wiser.

Following a dominant start from the visitors, who were looking odds on to keep an impressive run of recent results going, a goal laced with slapstick comedy leanings saw them trailing to the Lillywhites in the 32nd minute. Milutin Osmajic was the beneficiary of a bizarre sideways pass from Alex Mitchell towards the Addicks keeper Will Mannion, inside his own area, that gave the Montenegrin striker the opportunity to nick the ball away with a strong challenge before nudging it into an empty net. Whoops!

But, to their credit, the visitors upped the ante again and once again took the game to Preston, restoring parity through Luke Perry’s assured finish, five minutes before half-time, following some great touches in the build up from Thierry Small. The goal was the very least that Charlton deserved, for the way that they had pulled the home side's defence all over the place during the first half.

Only the agility of North End's keeper, Freddie Woodman, stopped the Addicks adding two further goals just before the break. And as the teams left the field on level terms, to prepare for the turnaround, there was an upbeat and positive vibe among those looking on from the visiting supporters section, of the Bill Shankly Kop.

Would Nathan Jones side come back out and finish what they had started early doors? Was all the territorial dominance about to yield the fruition it deserved? Hmm, that's not quite how things panned out, because although they continued to look threatening throughout the second half, that bloody pest Osmajic was afforded too much time and space, when he met a Ben Whiteman corner on the volley, to put Preston ahead again, just ninety seconds after the restart.

Now that the hosts had used up their full compliment of on target chances, they closed ranks and defended admirably, while Woodman impressed, pulling off a string of saves to keep the lively yellow shirted visitors at bay. The PNE keeper might have earned himself a caution in lieu of his ‘time management tactics’ as the clock ticked down, but he was only doing what any manager, of any team, at any game, anywhere, would expect their keeper to do under the same circumstances. The match referee Ruebyn Ricardo didn't seem too bothered about the custodians antics, so hey ho!

At full time I retraced my steps back to where I’d haphazardly dumped my motor conveyance, when kick-off time was getting a bit to close for comfort. My heart skipped a beat when I saw what was most likely a parking offence penalty notice secured beneath one of the windscreen wipers.

I breathed a sigh of relief upon unfolding and reading what only turned out to be a flyer for a two-for-one Pizza offer on Thursday nights, at a nearby takeaway. Tempting as it was, I didn't fancy spending another 48 hours in Preston (not ever! Never mind right now), so I let the car turn over for a few minutes and was soon cruising along on the now virtually deserted roads back home. At 00:27 I arrived unscathed at my humble, yet happy abode. A doddle of a return journey that, innit!? I must make it again sometime, maybe even in the near future. Shall we make it a date for next Tuesday?

Interlude: Wednesday 15th January 2025. Amongst the numerous items of football memorabilia I have squirreled away, in various cubby holes around my house over the years, I own the 50+ year old football programme pictured above, from a game way back in the 1974-75 season, featuring the two clubs l watched in action last night. The back story to me obtaining and hanging onto this artefact, is that I was amused no end by the Charlton v. Charlton aspect of the publication.

It's PNE v. Charlton Athletic, obviously, but the game was played during the time that the former Manchester United and England legend Bobby Charlton, was managing the Lancashire based club. Charlton (Sir Robert) actually played in this game against Charlton (Athletic FC), on Tuesday September 17th 1974. Hence, Charlton v. Charlton.

There are several historical football information resource sites on the internet, that claim Bobby Charlton CBE never played football again, once he had retired, from his stint with Manchester United in 1973. But, to be blunt, that is bloody nonsense, because he actually played 38 times for Preston, netting 8 goals for them along the way, while performing player/manager duties, until he left Deepdale in 1975.

His opposite number (11) that night was one Keith Peacock. I was talking to Keith, about a book he’d been involved with, outside the Valley prior to a pre-season friendly, v. Swansea City, in July 2022 and I asked him if he recalled playing against Charlton (Sir Robert) at Deepdale. And I am happy to report, he confirmed that he did. That's good enough for me then and all the proof I’ll ever need. Here's one of the pictures that I took on the day of the Swansea friendly (above). The old lad looks very well doesn't he!? Incidentally, I never attended the game that the programme was produced for.

Chapter 2: Saturday 18th January 2025. In 1946, Charlton lost in the first post World War II final of the FA Cup, 1-4 (AET) against Derby County at Wembley. The following year the Addicks returned to the Empire Stadium and won the cup, beating Burnley 1-0 (AET). A curious coincidence occurred, when the ball (not the same one, I hope) burst during both games. Neither Charlton, nor Derby have ever won the cup again since

There were plenty of positives to be taken from the third round defeat at Preston on Tuesday night, but the biggest plus, even greater than the amount of kudos such an open and attacking performance garnered from all quarters, was the fact that it's highly (i.e. 100%) unlikely that a third tier club will be lifting the FA Cup in May. So, if an unbeaten run must come to an end, it might as well be in a competition that you're not going to win, when there are no league points at stake.

Morale was very high amongst Charlton fans heading to Rotherham, in spite of the final score at Deepdale. A return to winning ways in south Yorkshire this afternoon, was a distinct possibility and, just maybe, a second half of the season surge towards a play-off berth, could even yet salvage something out of this stuttering, stop/start league campaign. It's the hope that kills you apparently.

Via a visit to the Platinum Bar in town (recommended), we arrived at the New York Stadium approximately 50 minutes before kick-off. The sun was shining brightly, but don't let that fool anyone… it was fffffffcold. Bloomin’ heck! You’d think it was January or something. Prior to kick-off, a respectful and heartfelt tribute was held in remembrance of Denis Law, who had very sadly passed away on Friday.

Though unbeaten in their previous six league games, Charlton would have to be very wary of Steve Evans’ Millers this afternoon, because they have seen a significant upturn in their own results over the last month or so too. Oi! You lot, I said “Be very wary of Steve Evans’ Millers this afternoon!” Crash, bang, wallop! Thirteen minutes on the clock and Rotherham are already two goals to the good and (inevitably) the first one of them was scored by Andre Green, a player who’d had a spell with Charlton, on loan, a few years ago.

The second one was belted home by Alex MacDonald advancing with menace towards Ashley Maynard-Brewers goal, while the Charlton defence went missing in action. “Stop standing around watching them and f*cking get involved in the game!” shouted a stroppy child in our midst. I guess that minding our language, because of the presence of women and children within earshot, just became redundant.

Rotherham were all over their visitors like a bad rash, with Mallik Wilks orchestrating their constant threat and almost adding to the scoreline twice. If one or two players are having an off day, a few tweaks to the system can mask over the cracks, but when most of the team are playing as though they have never even met each other before, then you're in real trouble.

Against the run of play Greg Docherty found Miles Leaburn with a deep cross and the rangy striker stabbed the ball past Dillon Phillips from close range. That could have been a turning point and lifeline for the visitors. If they could go in at half-time just one goal behind their rampant hosts, then a change in fortunes might be on the cards in the second-half. But they couldn't!

Because four minutes into first-half stoppage time, Zak Jules was afforded two bites of the cherry in front of Charlton’s goal (and the six hundred and seventy eight away fans) and made sure with his second header. 3-1 at the halfway point… and in fairness it could have been a whole lot worse for the Addicks. Nine minutes after the restart, that Green bloke undid the visitors at the back again, with a deft flick on for Wilks to run onto before floating a dipping shot over the advancing Maynard-Brewer.

There was no way that Rotherham were going to allow Charlton to get back into the game now, though in truth Nathan Jones’ disjointed side didn't look up to the task of making a serious dent into their the goal deficit anyway. Matty Godden’s injury time goal, was scant consolation for the visiting fans who had toughed it out until the bitter end (quite a few of them had already left) and only served to give the final-score of 4-2 a flattering look, from a Charlton perspective.

Rotherham played really well and Charlton, err … didn’t. I’ll sign off this chapter more words of wisdom from the foul-mouthed (but quite amusing) 11 year old, with a penchant for hitting the nail right on the head. “That was dog-shit defending by Charlton today dad!” Indeed it was. Out of the mouths of babes n’ all that.

But credit where it is due to the Millers, who are picking up some momentum at just the right time and have climbed up to 13th in the table as a result of today's win; where they find themselves level on ponts, with 12th placed Charlton, but still behind them on goal difference.

Chapter 3: Tuesday 21st January 2025. Right then you lot, who's up for another midweek trek across the M62? Hmm, just me then, you chuffing light-weights. Well don’t come crying to me when you miss an absolute classic encounter, packed with thrills, spills and skills. You had your chance.

Some smart arse made the suggestion that I ought to take a good book with me. I take the bait, hook, line and sinker by responding in a haughty tone that it’s both unsafe and illegal to read while I’m driving; only to he hit with the punchline: “I meant so you would have something to do to stop you getting bored after a quarter to eight!” Ooh! My aching sides.

I’ll spare you the details how how horrific the crawl through the M62/M60 corridor was tonight. If you have ever been there in the early evening you'll already know what a complete headf*ck of a drive it invariably always is. Having given myself a bit of extra time following last week's fun and games, I was in car park C at the ground almost a whole hour before the game started.

Car parking at the stadium can be paid for on an app, or via one of the payment machines dotted around the place before you leave the site. There are no barriers to prevent you from going home without paying, but big brother is watching you and the CCTV set up will liaise with the data from the machines and anyone who assumes that they have got away with a freebie can expect a penalty notice and £150 fine to arrive in the post during the next few days. You have been warned!

Just few minutes into the game, play was paused while a medical emergency amongst the Bolton supporters was dealt with. I sincerely hope it wasn't anything overly serious and the spectator who took ill makes a full recovery after being taken to hospital by ambulance. It was a chilling reminder of a similar incident, that occurred at the same ground, just twelve months ago, when seventy one year old Wanderers supporter Iain Purslow passed away after suffering a heart attack at the subsequently abandoned home game against Cheltenham Town.

The Sun newspaper sullied it’s already tainted reputation regarding football tragedies, when it used the headline: ‘Footie binned…over ill fan’. In connection with Mr Purslow’s death. One must ask: Is there no limit the depths that this filthy red top scandal rag will stoop to? It’s a rhetorical question, we all already know the answer.

After a brief warm up, play resumed in what was initially and understandably, a fairly subdued atmosphere. Ian Evatt, the not very popular Bolton manager, had to issue an apology before tonight's game for swearing at fans following a 2-2 draw at the Toughsheet Community Stadium against Cambridge United at the weekend. Talking to a group of Trotters fans (does anyone ever really call them that!) on the walk across from the car, it became apparent that they didn't mind a Charlton win tonight, if it meant that Evatt might get relieved of his duties as a consequence.

Without wanting to give the (cheery) ending to this tale away just yet, I’d imagine that there will be some happy people in Bolton, by the time I type all of this up on Wednesday morning 😉. Just saying. Ashley Maynard-Brewer was tested a couple of times during what was for the most part a fairly lacklustre opening half.

Jordi Osei-Tutu looked lively for the hosts, using the right flank to good effect, but his crosses weren't picking out any of his in teammates in the Addicks goalmouth, if indeed there were any such options available for him, before he sent the ball over anyway. Lloyd Jones in particular looked solid at set-pieces and crosses and dealt with much of what was thrown his way. George Thomason, Wanderers captain, was lucky to still be on the pitch after suffering a head loss in first half stoppage time, when he received a yellow card for a bad foul on Tyreece Campbell, but then received a pardon of Donald Trump sized proportions for an even worse lunge at Alex Mitchell.

An incoming half time text message asked me if the book in the glove company about the Hungarian people’s uprising and revolution was coming in useful yet I’ve already read that one, so I persevered with the game instead. And I’m glad that I did, even though my sidekick had uttered that “This one’s got nil-nil written all over it!” Oh well, be a clean sheet and the start of another unbeaten run then.

It would have been a case of: ‘Who said that crime doesn't pay!?’ if that mucky sod with the armband on had given the Whites (another nickname apparently) the lead, but his towering header scuffed the top if the crossbar. “Serves you right, you animal!” called out a lone voice from somewhere behind me. Personally I think that was a bit unfair, on all animals everywhere.

Ten minutes into the second half, Joel Randall netted his eighth goal of the season after Aaron Collins had served a chance up on a plate, along with new potatoes and a mixed vegetable medley. Randall’s previous seven goals thus far had been scored for Peterborough United. It’s a shame the lad couldn't have got a move to a bigger club in a higher division, to the one he was already playing in for Posh.

Sadly there is a vocal element among the Wandering fan based who think they are a massive club, who should be (and I quote) “Beating the likes of Charlton”. You see, them there Trotters have won the FA Cup in days of old and used to be a Premier League club, whereas ‘the likes of Charlton Athletic, have also won the FA Cup in days of old and used to play in the Premier League (cough), and when they were, they actually played against Bolton Wanderers. Trot on! And I’m saving the Toughsheet pun until later.

Jay Matete got away with stamping on Thierry Small, ‘twas a straight red offence all day. It must have been that big club privileges rules apply condition, that sometimes causes match officials to not see such blatant thuggery. Is there any justice in football anymore? Well, I’m delighted to report that there actually is and the last twenty minutes of this slog of a match are a fine example of the forces of good overcoming whatever it was that had got into some of the Wanderers players tonight.

Cometh the hour, well the seventy first minute, little old Charlton were on level terms with their big (bad) hosts, when Macaulay Gillesphey paced towards the right hand side of Boltons area before dropping a through ball right into the heart of the six yard box, that Jones managed to squeeze into the net in spite of the close attentions of several defending players and the goalkeeper Luke Southwood.

The home crowd’s indignity at already having had their pants pulled down and their collective arses spanked, by ‘the likes of Charlton’ was further compounded when Karoy Anderson smashed a hopeful shot across the face of the Trotters goal that took a wicked deflection off of George Johnson making it impossible for the already committed Southwood to get anywhere near.

As Matete had already been substituted, probably because Evatt had seen his stamp on Small and figured out that he was a liability, the winning goal could only have been made any better if Thomason himself had provided the glancing touch that secured victory for the ever so humble Addicks. Tough sheet Bolton! FT: Trotters/Whites/Wanderers (0) 1 v Addicks/Robins/Valiants (0) 2. I'm straight onto the nearby motorway and homeward bound within minutes of the final whistle, counting my blessings that I don't live in Plymouth

Please note, I have some good friends who are avid Bolton Wanderers supporters and some of the above is merely aimed at them, in jest so to speak, it's merely tongue in cheek banter (possibly). Their stadium is very smart and it’s a whole one thousand (empty) seats bigger than Charlton’s Valley. So it's not as though they don't actually have anything to brag about at all. That said I preferred their old ground much more.

I guess it's all about perspective, realism and expectations. While typing the final draft of this post up on Wednesday morning, news has just filtered through that Bolton have dismissed Ian Evatt from his managerial position.

Charlton’s fans seem very happy on the whole that last night's result keeps their hopes of just about reaching the play offs this season alive. A quick look at the league table shows that the Trotters are in ninth place on thirty eight points, while the Addicks are in tenth on thirty seven (but with a game in hand). Football, eh!?