Back home

Somehow the gloomy weather over London hasn’t bothered me today. I’ve walked with a spring in my step and had a big smile on my face. It could have snowed, Southeastern Trains could have had another crisis, I wouldn’t have cared. Chris has come back home.

Suddenly the clouds have lifted over the Valley and for the first time in probably five years we have a reason to feel optimistic. Charlton fans have a reason to smile again. One of our heroes has returned.

I hope that fans are patient though. Not expecting miracles and the team to go and thrash the opposition by six or seven goals. Certainly not expecting champagne football week in week out.

We know the squad we have is capable of great things in this league, look at the aways games against Peterborough and Swindon. However we’ve yet to see that form at home.

Sitting and reflecting on todays events it’s kind of like how I felt after we beat Ipswich in the play-offs all those years ago. Excited, proud but that feeling of a little knot in the stomach, we’re almost there.

Patience is the key.


What was your first record?

Some of you will know that I like to Tweet. Twitter is fast becoming the easiest way of communicating amongst the Addick faithful. Last night we started talking about music. In fact it was all Paul Benson’s fault. Someone had seen his “Addicks FM” selection on Charlton Player. Not the worst one we’ve had it must be said. Somehow the banter got round to what was your first record.

So what was yours? Mine and please remember that I was four years old at the time was Grandad, by Clive Dunn. To this day I cannot explain why I liked it, why I had to have it and why I went with my Dad to a record shop in Plumstead to buy it. I can say that it certainly wasn’t for the B-side “I play the spoons”. It made me think about my musical taste, how was it influenced and why I like certain genre’s, hating others.

My early musical choices were rather bad, in fact they were damn awful. I remember buying some serious cheese. Some of the worst offenders purchased were C.W.Macall, The Wombles and, the shame of it, Terry Wogan.

Like most kids, we grow up listening to the music played by our parents. I’m afraid that I grew up listening to Joe Loss, Glenn Miller, James Last, Shirley Bassey and other assorted big bands. Luckily I was saved by my cousins and their cast offs.

I was about six when I was given my own record player as a christmas present. Somehow I managed to end up with hundreds of assorted 45’s from my cousins. An eclectic selection from early Bowie, yes it was the Laughing Gnome, to the Beatles. I used to spend hours listening to the music.

Somehow I missed out on Punk, I was just that bit too young. When my peers at school were getting into Madness, the Specials and the whole 2 tone scene I was buying music from Queen and ELO. Pretty mainstream stuff, not very rebellious.

As I got older I started to appreciate and get into the Electronic genre, music from Kraftwerk, Jarre, Ultravox, Visage etc. But somehow didn’t embrace the culture that went with it. That’s probably down to having fairly strict parents. I still kick myself that I didn’t rebel.

As a parent myself I can now appreciate how lucky my parents were, I may have been a lippy so and so, but I towed the line. My eldest is gradually finding his feet and his voice. As anyone with a pre-pubescent child knows it can be a little fraught at times. The one thing that consoles me is that he has finally discovered music and what a chip off the old block he is too!

He’s grabbed my old MP3 player and rammed it full of music from his Dad’s collection. For Christmas he wanted the Beatles back catalogue. He’s forever playing Abbey Road. He went out in the Holidays and bought a couple of Muse albums, even though I already had them. My proudest moment was when he came in to tell me that Pink Floyd were awesome and that The Great Gig was his favourite track. It must be down to me then. It must be down to the times he spent in the car with me listening to my pretty loud taste.

So that still doesn’t answer how I got my taste. If I had taken after my Dad, I would be stuck in the 1940’s listening to the big band sound.

I’ll probably never know and to tell you the truth I don’t really care, I like what I like and that’s what makes me who I am!