Into the Valley

Charlton Athletic v Exeter City

Saturday 22nd February 2025. EFL League 1. Charlton Athletic (1) 3 (Angus MacDonald 20 OG, Tyreece Campbell 68, Miles Leaburn 84) Exeter City 0. Attendance: 14,864 inc. 1,247 away fans.

Charlton Athletic: Mannion, Ramsay, Gillesphey, Jones (C), Coventry (McIntyre, 86'), Campbell (Kanu, 86'), Berry (Gilbert, 75'), Edwards (Watson, 89'), Anderson, Godden (Leaburn, 75'), Small. Unused subs - Reid (GK), Aneke.

Exeter City: Whitworth, Niskanen (Woods, 33'), McMillan, MacDonald, Hartridge, Harper, Richards (Yogane, 46'), Trevitt (Jones, 78'), Colwill (Oluwabori, 78'), Mitchell (Cole, 63'), Magennis (C). Unused subs - Purrington, Francis.

Following a week off, Charlton Athletic returned to action at the Valley this afternoon, where they entertained 17th placed Exeter City.

Seven days ago the Addicks suffered a setback, causing a pause to the momentum and head of steam that they had been generating hitherto; when they were beaten 1-0, away from home, against Birmingham City. Today they demonstrated that they have plentiful resources in their reserve tank, of a long forgotten football buzzword: ‘bouncebackability’. If my memory serves me correctly, that was a phrase coined by a certain Iain Dowie, who had an inauspicious, instantly forgettable and lamentably regrettable fifteen game spell, as Charlton’s manager in 2006.

All told, the fixtures break will hopefully prove to be beneficial and a much needed means to an end, as regards avoiding fatigue and possibly even burnout issues. With such an unrelenting schedule of games laying in wait, just over the horizon, some down time to recharge the batteries will have been almost therapeutic, for the small number of squad players who have possibly been looking slightly jaded of late.

Alas while they’ve been enjoying a sabbatical, the midweek results in League 1 didn't exactly go their way and, as a consequence, they had slipped down the table from fifth, to one-place (and three-points) outside the play-off berths.

But, all is not lost, not by any stretch of the imagination. The Addicks final destiny and a potentially triumphant climax to the current campaign, is a fate that's still very much in their own hands. Insomuch as, they still have fourteen games left to play this term (after today’s convincing win), including several that pit Nathan Jones’ side against other teams who are still in the mix and in with a shout of a play-off shot, at the very least. A few six-pointers in the offing, you might say. Well, you might, but I never would; because I’m loathe to ever use that implausible figure of speech. #Justsaying

Coincidentally, if you were to analyse Charlton’s previous fourteen games, prior to today, they’ve only lost twice. Which is (if one is allowed to use the p-word yet), beginning to look a lot like promotion form, one way or another. Apologies in advance, if mentioning such a scenario puts a jinx on things.

When these two sides last met, at St. James Park, back in November, the Grecians won 1-0, with Tristan Crama scoring the decisive goal, on a day when Mister Sitter and his even clumsier twin brother, really should both have netted for Charlton, who were, not to put too fine a point on things, collectively ‘having an off day’.

Recent form (notwithstanding the awful capitulation at Rotherham United) strongly suggests that days like the one down in Devon, are now the exception rather than the rule. Indicating that the Addicks ins, outs and team-rebuilding this term, is reaping dividends. I guess the proof of the pudding will be in the actual eating of the final course. Unless, of course, they choke on it first instead. Personally, I don't think that they will, in fact I firmly believe there is still more to come from from this rapidly improving Charlton side. Quite a lot more actually.

Having passed a late fitness test, after a fairly painful respiratory infection had laid me low since the early hours of Wednesday morning. I was raring to go and chomping at the bit this morning, as I reversed the Bentley, purring majestically off of my driveway, while waving a cheery goodbye to George my faithful old Butler.

The travel detail was straight-forward enough. Drive seventy-ish miles to Peterborough, liaise with a few cheery souls and join them on the ‘stop everywhere’ slow (but very cheap) Thameslink service to London Bridge, from where we would catch a connection to Charlton. It's not an even slightly luxurious way to travel, indeed any kind of comfort whatsoever is non-existent on these services, but you get what you pay for. Third-class travel, a numb bum from sitting on ironing board type seats and a sore back!

Door to turnstile, this particular journey encompasses approximately 156 miles each way. Such an undertaking on a limited budget, requires logistical planning of almost military precision to the nth degree. And, of course, keeping the costs down is of paramount importance, because I’m a tight-bastard!

Everything went awry on the return leg of my journey. A suicide on the track at Stevenage station, bought the East Coast Mainline grinding to a halt. The train I was booked on was one of dozens that were cancelled, as the northbound departure points became gridlocked with frustrated travellers.

Train companies can't be blamed or held responsible for the kind of clusterfuck that the knock on effect of the fatality caused. It’s not as if trains can steer around obstacles on the track… or people. It's the drivers that I feel most sorry for at times like this. How can you even begin to process the fact that you have inadvertantly facilitated the death of another human being?.

I thought things were about to turn really unpleasant when an announcement suggesting that people should find overnight accommodation and offering the compromise that they were welcome to use their tickets, which would still be valid, sometime on Sunday instead.

The tipping point came when security staff were deployed to blockade the entrance to the toilet facilities. “Out of order! You will have to use the ones on the neighbouring station!”, ranted a not entirely diplomatic and rather unfriendly man. Hmm, thereby being absent from the premises and missing any further announcements about any remote possibility of ever getting home

I could have gone back to East Retford upon Idle, via a different route, if I hadn't needed to retrieve my car from Peterborough station. Incidentally it isn't really a Bentley, nor do I have a Butler. This blog relies on the occasional fabrication and embellishment, to cloak over the tediousness of my efforts. I also insert copious amounts of pictures to break up the monotony.

Alas, my rigidly observed laws of frugality, bit me right on my numb bum tonight. Though I’ll triumphantly chuckle about getting a full refund, once my ire and frustration eventually evaporates. But, by hook or by crook, we always get home, by any means necessary. However, by virtue of not wanting to incriminate anybody, especially myself, I will say no more on the matter of tonight's travel issues. I hope everybody else who was stranded got home eventually too.

Meanwhile back at that there Valley Floyd Road, where the mist rolls in from the Thames, a rest is as good as a change. As fate threw up a fixture, that could have been tailored as a going through the motions exercise to get the hosts back up and running, in preparation for what lays ahead. ‘Twas virtually ‘a pre - climax to the season friendly’, to all intents and purposes.

Charlton won comfortably and there was hardly a single moment when they were not in complete control of the game. Exeter showed their teeth on a couple of occasions, but soon put them away again. I was expecting more application and intensity from a Gary Caldwell team, especially one that needs points as a matter of no small urgency as they hover precariously just above the brown messy stuff end of the table.

In the words of an Exeter fan heading home after the game: “The only surprise today was how long it took Charlton to get their third goal. It should have been 3-0 by half-time.” I’d predicted a 3-1 home win, but in doing so I probably hadn't acknowledged just how compact, organised and determined this Charlton team is developing into as a defensive unit.

Nor did I have any prior knowledge of quite how lightweight the Grecians would be when confronted by the tenacity of the ‘Red Wall Security Ltd’, who were defending Will Mannion’s goal with an assured efficiency, ruthlessness, composure and almost intimidating togetherness. There was only one team out on the park that you would want by your side in a proper scrap. And they they weren't wearing a blue and white changed strip this afternoon.

Nathan Jones’ side were good, very, very good actually, even though the old adage that says: ‘You can only beat what is in front of you’ also played a big part, in today's ‘three-pointer.’ By the way, I have no qualms about using that plausible figure of speech. Exeter were even magnanimous enough to gift the Addicks with the opening goal.

My ‘point and hope’ mobile-phone photo-technique, worked splendidly today, when in amongst the forty-plus deleted snap- shots, I captured a panoramic (albeit slightly blurred) image of Luke Berry’s free-kick from out on the right, glancing into the goal, via a deflection off of the unfortunate Angus MacDonald.

The floodgates didn't exactly open as expected once the hosts had gone ahead. And a string of chances went begging, while the visitors goalkeeper morphed into a passable version of Peter Parker for much of the remainder of the afternoon.

That’s the Peter Parker of Spiderman fame by the way, not the ex-Retford Town Reserves goalkeeper of the same name, who was a nine pints a night man, two-stone overweight, ageing, quite slow, cumbersome and not very athletic at all. According to Wikipedia, the Retford Parker was a doorman at the Cat’s Cradle nightclub in town and married to one of the strippers who plied her trade there. Go on! You prove otherwise! 😉

It wasn't until the 68th minute that Charlton’s virtually inevitable “It's been coming” second goal, finally arrived. And when it did it was a thing of absolutely beauty. Alex Hartridge’s attempted headed clearance fell at the feet of Tyreece Campbell, who controlled the ball with a quick first touch and fizzed the ball spectacularly just inside the upright with his second. Pick that one out!

A good few of the visiting supporters began to drift away, leaving early. They probably heard the sound of loud cheering emanating from a joyful stadium, while they were in the Sainsbury's shop opposite Charlton station, stocking up on cans for the journey home. It was a raucous din that announced Miles Leaburn had just cut in from the right flank, motored along the deadball line, jigged a few steps in celebration of his impending strike and threaded the ball into the visitors net from the tightest of tight angles.

Game over! Maybe in that fleeting moment, Whitworth actually resembled the Retfordian namesake, of a lycra-clad super hero. But in fairness I don't reckon both Peter Parker’s standing on the line behind City’s number 1, would have kept out Leaburn’s clinical finish.

Next Saturday Charlton travel to Leyton Orient. Before then the O’s have are playing at Birmingham City on Tuesday night. It’s hotting up in that there League 1 innit!?