As our intrepid parties of doughty skirmishers return to hearth and home, leaflets wearily laid aside and unexploded combat piggies returned temporarily to the Armoury, it is worth reflecting on what the past few days have taught us.
Well, first and foremost it's been an uncomfortable experience for The Great Shareholder, and even his most devoted admirers will concede that perhaps it's not been his finest hour. But have we been a little unkind - unfair, even - and would it not display our legendary sense of fair play to cut him a bit of slack?
I'm sorry, but I like to see the good in everyone and I refuse to believe some of the hurtful things being said about him, you know, like the time he was supposed to have been walking down the street in Sint-Truiden when he spotted a blind guy tap-tapping along the pavement and Mr Roland goes up to him and says "Excuse me, but stone wears out too, you know!" Then there was that other time when, being known as a somewhat old-fashioned and stern head-of-household, someone asked him what happens when the washing machine breaks down, and he replied "I just slap the bitch!" Simply untrue, just like those nasty stories stories that Ms Katrien is not so bright. Who can believe that such a smart college graduate really does think that Don Quixote is about a donkey called HoTay, and that all the fairies in South East London, when they're feeling poorly, go to the local Elf Centre?
No, sorry, but it just won't do. So to make amends I thought maybe a short history lesson might be in order, especially as it's not been one of Ms Katrien's favourite subjects - "History - je m'en fou". I don't give a damn ....
It's understandable that history is apparently so little regarded in Belgium. After all, they are a young country dating only from 1830. Mind you, the country's creation came about as a consequence of an uppity French bloke trying once too often to pull the lion's tail and ended up severely bitten, ironically in a field in, er, Belgium (to be).
Well, our history goes back a bit further than that.
The old time machine must first stop in 1889. In that year the London County Council was formed, the first governing body for the whole capital. Charlton was included, having previously been at the metropolitan end of the great and ancient county of Kent, and therein lies a big clue. The county's coat of arms displays a rampant horse (sorry, Ferrari - we got there first!) above a motto of the single word INVICTA. Now, educated folks like Mr Roland and Ms Katrien won't need to be told that this little piece of Latin has a very clear meaning - UNCONQUERED. Starting to get the picture .... ?
The legend of INVICTA has various origins but there is one common factor - it dates back almost a thousand years to 1066 (yes, even older than some East Standers) to the last time a European invader won an away tie in England, when William of Normandy defeated our good King Harold at the Battle of Hastings. With Britain at his feet William began to advance into his newly-won kingdom, only to find his path obstructed by the sturdy yeomen of Kent (and probably the lady forebears of agents Fanackapan and Tatters). A monument not so far from The Valley bears the following inscription :
" .... [not far from this spot] by ancient tradition the Men of Kent and Kentish Men carrying boughs on their shoulders and swords in their hands met the invader William Duke of Normandy. They offered peace if he would grant their ancient rights and liberties otherwise war and that most deadly. Their request was granted and from that day the motto of Kent has been INVICTA, meaning UNCONQUERED."
Since then Kent has meant trouble. The piece of England's continent nearest the island of Europe pokes out somewhat defiantly in their direction, belying the picture of a rural idyll bestowed by the county's title of The Garden of England. In 1381 Wat Tyler and The Peasant's Revolt caused serious mayhem. In 1450 Jack Cade assembled a formidable army, 5000 men being encamped for a time on Blackheath no more than three of Mr Roland's euro-kilometres from The Valley.
Strangely enough a taste for rebellion has come down to modern times. Mr Roland will need no introduction to small political parties - for 30 years, along with his micro electronics he has had a micro party of his own, small but perfectly formed. called, I believe, Vivant. Well, in the 1980s the polarisation of British politics between a hardening Left and Thatcher's Right led to the brief flowering of the centrist Social Democrats, of which one of its modest epicentres was the district of Greenwich and Woolwich in the midst of which fanatical moderatism, as we all know, lies CHARLTON.
Lastly, CAFC's struggles a quarter-century ago, leading to the formation and astonishing success of The Valley Party, followed eventually by the club's glorious return to its tribal homelands in 1992, brings our story almost up to date.
New history has been made over the past year, never more so than in the past few days. Every Addick is a worthy descendant of all those Kentish stalwarts of bygone days, and included within your numberless ranks far and wide are many who've never yet set foot in the Garden County but nonetheless whose allegiance is plain for the world to see. What lies ahead no-one yet knows for sure but better days WILL be here - our club's illustrious history tells us that, loud and very clear.
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Comments
Sorry.
Wat Tyler decapitated by ruling elite. Supporters chased out of London.
Jack Cade killed by ruling elite. Supporters chased out of London.
Social Democrats no longer exist. Based on your selected history things don't look great for either the club or us supporters, and as for Airman, well it doesn't look good.
Kingston ? Near enough. North and West of the Medway, so arise, Sir Honorary Kentish Man !!
Fans United will never be defeated!