You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Seems to me there’s potential for the club and the great man or somebody with a bit more time and knowledge than me to get hold of a bit of footage and start a ‘Keith Peacock Challenge’ trend on Twitter or whatever, and throw it out to the footballing world, tagging say the Prostrate charity or any other worthy cause that’s being supported at the moment. Players will try and emulate the feat but the mirth and merriment (ok, derision) when they fail will be a bit of fun.
The Prostrate charity? Keith certainly didn't do it lying down. Folk round our way still talk about Pee-Wee's knee-trembler.
Great idea; they could start from the centre spot and see how far they get - would have to keep the ball up until they reached the edge of the box before firing home.
Nice one! For half-time entertainment it should replace the Crossbar Challenge, which is far too simple.
Seems to me there’s potential for the club and the great man or somebody with a bit more time and knowledge than me to get hold of a bit of footage and start a ‘Keith Peacock Challenge’ trend on Twitter or whatever, and throw it out to the footballing world, tagging say the Prostrate charity or any other worthy cause that’s being supported at the moment. Players will try and emulate the feat but the mirth and merriment (ok, derision) when they fail will be a bit of fun.
The Prostrate charity? Keith certainly didn't do it lying down. Folk round our way still talk about Pee-Wee's knee-trembler.
Great idea; they could start from the centre spot and see how far they get - would have to keep the ball up until they reached the edge of the box before firing home.
Nice one! For half-time entertainment it should replace the Crossbar Challenge, which is far too simple.
Seems to me there’s potential for the club and the great man or somebody with a bit more time and knowledge than me to get hold of a bit of footage and start a ‘Keith Peacock Challenge’ trend on Twitter or whatever, and throw it out to the footballing world, tagging say the Prostrate charity or any other worthy cause that’s being supported at the moment. Players will try and emulate the feat but the mirth and merriment (ok, derision) when they fail will be a bit of fun.
The Prostrate charity? Keith certainly didn't do it lying down. Folk round our way still talk about Pee-Wee's knee-trembler.
Great idea; they could start from the centre spot and see how far they get - would have to keep the ball up until they reached the edge of the box before firing home.
Nice one! For half-time entertainment it should replace the Crossbar Challenge, which is far too simple.
Was it just at the Valley or did he do the same thing when playing away? The only time I ever saw him play was at the Shay ( when he scored with about 10 minutes to go but Charlton lost 2-1).
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
There's some footage of one of the Hungarian greats, probably Puskas, walking from the penalty spot to the goal doing keepie-uppie, never breaking stride, never changing pace. He either does it with just the one foot or regularly left-right-left-right...
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Yep, as my best friend once memorably turned to me and remarked, "if he was a foot taller he'd be Cruyff"
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
I assume you meant to say that he didn’t play 532 home games.....because of his 532 appearances around 50% would have been away games at which he didn’t perform the same stunt. So yes......I’d have to say that’s correct. The way you wrote it could, to some, sound a bit demeaning.....which initially is what I thought too.
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
I assume you meant to say that he didn’t play 532 home games.....because of his 532 appearances around 50% would have been away games at which he didn’t perform the same stunt. So yes......I’d have to say that’s correct. The way you wrote it could, to some, sound a bit demeaning.....which initially is what I thought too.
Exactly. The post said he played 532 home games, I said he didn't play that many, i.e. he played less than 532.
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
I assume you meant to say that he didn’t play 532 home games.....because of his 532 appearances around 50% would have been away games at which he didn’t perform the same stunt. So yes......I’d have to say that’s correct. The way you wrote it could, to some, sound a bit demeaning.....which initially is what I thought too.
Exactly. The post said he played 532 home games, I said he didn't play that many, i.e. he played less than 532.
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
I assume you meant to say that he didn’t play 532 home games.....because of his 532 appearances around 50% would have been away games at which he didn’t perform the same stunt. So yes......I’d have to say that’s correct. The way you wrote it could, to some, sound a bit demeaning.....which initially is what I thought too.
Exactly. The post said he played 532 home games, I said he didn't play that many, i.e. he played less than 532.
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Thanks for the explanation... Now you say it I do remember him doing that a few times when he was part of the staff during our Premier League days
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
I assume you meant to say that he didn’t play 532 home games.....because of his 532 appearances around 50% would have been away games at which he didn’t perform the same stunt. So yes......I’d have to say that’s correct. The way you wrote it could, to some, sound a bit demeaning.....which initially is what I thought too.
Exactly. The post said he played 532 home games, I said he didn't play that many, i.e. he played less than 532.
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
OMG! Actually had tears in my eyes reading this! Oh the memories. Thing is we just took it for granted... never for one second did we think he would fudge up.. and as you say, he never did! Still reckon he could do it today... could any of the present squad?
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
OMG! Actually had tears in my eyes reading this! Oh the memories. Thing is we just took it for granted... never for one second did we think he would fudge up.. and as you say, he never did! Still reckon he could do it today... could any of the present squad?
Thank you for sharing @Chizz. Is there any archive footage of KP’s spectacular entrance? I’d love to see it.
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
I assume you meant to say that he didn’t play 532 home games.....because of his 532 appearances around 50% would have been away games at which he didn’t perform the same stunt. So yes......I’d have to say that’s correct. The way you wrote it could, to some, sound a bit demeaning.....which initially is what I thought too.
Exactly. The post said he played 532 home games, I said he didn't play that many, i.e. he played less than 532.
No it didn't
Er, yes it did. To quote: "But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail?" It was already established that he only did it at home so to have done it 532 times means he played 532 home games.
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
Not diminishing the skill required for what he did, but he didn't play that many home games.
I assume you meant to say that he didn’t play 532 home games.....because of his 532 appearances around 50% would have been away games at which he didn’t perform the same stunt. So yes......I’d have to say that’s correct. The way you wrote it could, to some, sound a bit demeaning.....which initially is what I thought too.
Exactly. The post said he played 532 home games, I said he didn't play that many, i.e. he played less than 532.
No it didn't
Er, yes it did. To quote: "But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail?" It was already established that he only did it at home so to have done it 532 times means he played 532 home games.
I guess at this stage, I should either ignore you, so as not to take the fun out of what's intended to be a thread that is a gently enjoyable reminiscence. Or challenge you to show me where I've said he did it at home games only.
And, as I haven't said that, let's terminate a petty potential squabble.
Yes, before moving south of The Solent I was a season ticket holder, initially sitting just behind the goal in the covered end. It was the first premier season or the wonderful champions season that followed and I was stood stretching my legs pre kick off when an Exocet missile smashed into my chest! An apologetic Keith Peacock did raise a hand in acknowledgment! Needless to say I eventually opted for a safer seat in the East.
Comments
You've said you didn't know what Keith Peacock did at the start of every game. So here's an explanation...
Keith Peacock, diminutive striker, nippy winger, all-round Charlton legend used to run out on the pitch at every match and perform one, unique trick, without fail.
During Peacock's career, the players' tunnel at The Valley was much closer to the half-way line than the current one. Players used to run out onto the pitch from the tunnel in the middle of the iconic west stand, to thunderous applause, the clicking of cameras and, of course, the barely audible tones of Billy Cotton's finest track, "Red, Red Robin" leaking out of a crackly Tannoy system.
The teams would run straight from the tunnel to the end at which they would warm up, pre-match. The away team turning right and heading towards the huge south terrace, Charlton turning left and heading towards their fans huddled in the original Covered End. No lining up. No shaking opponents' hands. No swapping of pendants. No snaps with sponsors. Just 22 men in short shorts, running about trying to keep warm. Always, with the captain running out first.
And usually, that meant Keith Peacock. Whether in his ten or eleven shirt - ironically, given he was the football league's first user of the twelve shirt - Keith Peacock would lead his team out, bursting with pride and ready to show the world what he could do on a football pitch.
And for those that didn't get to see him, he could do a lot. He wasn't the most talented of players, but he more than made up for it by dedication, training, practice and sheer bloody-mindedness. He was determined to be as good as he could be. Which meant hour after hour practising at The Valley, behind the main stand, on what is now the glorious West Stand car park. It was covered in cinders in those days. And he would spend hour after hour honing his skills. Sprinting, dribbling, passing (by kicking the ball against walls and collecting it) and doing "keepie-ups". Day after day after day. He wanted to make himself as good as he could be, so that he could demonstrate his skills with the first team at Charlton.
So this proud, little, skilful, determined, passionate player would run out onto the pitch, with a ball in his hand on match days. And, as he ran, full-tilt towards the Covered End, about half-way to the penalty area, he would toss the ball from his hands, up in the air. And, while still running, he'd catch the ball on his thigh and let it bounce up. He'd keep running. And catch it on his other thigh. And on, he would run. Bouncing the ball as he ran, from thigh to thigh. And he'd allow it to drop to a foot, but keep up the keepie-ups. Right, left, right, left. Sometimes back onto his thigh. Sometimes onto his head. Sometimes, just between his feet. But continuing to run. Into the penalty area. Heading straight for the goal. And the regular Charlton fans would know what was about to happen. His penultimate touch would come somewhere near the penalty area. He'd knock the ball up. And, without breaking stride, eyes fixed on the ball, heart pounding, fierce concentration, he'd allow it to drop before belting a hard, no-nonsense, full-pace volley, smashing in to the back of the net.
Every single time.
He never missed. Never spilled the ball. Never lost stride. Never tripped. Never lost control. The ball never touched the ground from the moment he carried it on to the pitch until after it had ploughed into the net.
Every. Single. Time.
Easy though, right? Anyone could do it. Simple. Just a bit of keepie-up. Do it once - that would be impressive. But do it in front of thousands or tens of thousands of people, 532 times without fail? That's legendary.
So yes......I’d have to say that’s correct.
The way you wrote it could, to some, sound a bit demeaning.....which initially is what I thought too.
Didnt realise it came from his playing days
And, as I haven't said that, let's terminate a petty potential squabble.