Oh fabulous, queues of illiterate half-wits failing to operate the foolproof turnstiles with their tickets, mental dwarfs paralysed by the complexity of the alphanumeric seat/row/block numbering system standing slack-jawed on gangways and rows bunging up access for we sentient adults and refusing to shift out of my seat cos they don't know where to go, feral ankle-biters bored shitless after 3 minutes kicking the back of my seat and their skin-wasting snowflake "parents" who get the flaming arsehole that anybody ever speaks to their child cos they themselves are so negligent and self-obsessed to ever show their little darlings any boundaries ever, let alone respect, dypsomaniac glory hunters who swill down buckets of overpriced flat kangaroo piss pre-match and at half-time who then can't last 10 minutes before their walnut sized bladders are overwhelmed and they step all over everybody stumbling out to (presumably) go for a piss or another line of low grade bugle and then blunder back in repeating their faux-pas withoutsomuch as an 'excuse me please' or 'I beg your pardon'. 'S gonna be great fun a real anthroplogist's wet-dream, specially if your metier is the minimum number of functioning neurons required in an ambulant biped. But y'know "we've got our Charlton back"
Next up: the low alcohol super shrill version of the above i.e. kids for a quid
Oh fabulous, queues of illiterate half-wits failing to operate the foolproof turnstiles with their tickets, mental dwarfs paralysed by the complexity of the alphanumeric seat/row/block numbering system standing slack-jawed on gangways and rows bunging up access for we sentient adults and refusing to shift out of my seat cos they don't know where to go, feral ankle-biters bored shitless after 3 minutes kicking the back of my seat and their skin-wasting snowflake "parents" who get the flaming arsehole that anybody ever speaks to their child cos they themselves are so negligent and self-obsessed to ever show their little darlings any boundaries ever, let alone respect, dypsomaniac glory hunters who swill down buckets of overpriced flat kangaroo piss pre-match and at half-time who then can't last 10 minutes before their walnut sized bladders are overwhelmed and they step all over everybody stumbling out to (presumably) go for a piss or another line of low grade bugle and then blunder back in repeating their faux-pas withoutsomuch as an 'excuse me please' or 'I beg your pardon'. 'S gonna be great fun a real anthroplogist's wet-dream, specially if your metier is the minimum number of functioning neurons required in an ambulant biped. But y'know "we've got our Charlton back"
Next up: the low alcohol super shrill version of the above i.e. kids for a quid
Welcome to the Lower Covered End every f***ing week!
Oh fabulous, queues of illiterate half-wits failing to operate the foolproof turnstiles with their tickets, mental dwarfs paralysed by the complexity of the alphanumeric seat/row/block numbering system standing slack-jawed on gangways and rows bunging up access for we sentient adults and refusing to shift out of my seat cos they don't know where to go, feral ankle-biters bored shitless after 3 minutes kicking the back of my seat and their skin-wasting snowflake "parents" who get the flaming arsehole that anybody ever speaks to their child cos they themselves are so negligent and self-obsessed to ever show their little darlings any boundaries ever, let alone respect, dypsomaniac glory hunters who swill down buckets of overpriced flat kangaroo piss pre-match and at half-time who then can't last 10 minutes before their walnut sized bladders are overwhelmed and they step all over everybody stumbling out to (presumably) go for a piss or another line of low grade bugle and then blunder back in repeating their faux-pas withoutsomuch as an 'excuse me please' or 'I beg your pardon'. 'S gonna be great fun a real anthroplogist's wet-dream, specially if your metier is the minimum number of functioning neurons required in an ambulant biped. But y'know "we've got our Charlton back"
Next up: the low alcohol super shrill version of the above i.e. kids for a quid
I must admit a lot of thundercocks comments have been true, I have had people sit in my season ticket seat, that I have had for 20 years, reluctant to move and said to me they have been sitting there for years, Not on my lap they hadn't.
I must admit a lot of thundercocks comments have been true, I have had people sit in my season ticket seat, that I have had for 20 years, reluctant to move and said to me they have been sitting there for years, Not on my lap they hadn't.
So you never had a chance to talk about the first thing that popped up mate 😉
Oh fabulous, queues of illiterate half-wits failing to operate the foolproof turnstiles with their tickets, mental dwarfs paralysed by the complexity of the alphanumeric seat/row/block numbering system standing slack-jawed on gangways and rows bunging up access for we sentient adults and refusing to shift out of my seat cos they don't know where to go, feral ankle-biters bored shitless after 3 minutes kicking the back of my seat and their skin-wasting snowflake "parents" who get the flaming arsehole that anybody ever speaks to their child cos they themselves are so negligent and self-obsessed to ever show their little darlings any boundaries ever, let alone respect, dypsomaniac glory hunters who swill down buckets of overpriced flat kangaroo piss pre-match and at half-time who then can't last 10 minutes before their walnut sized bladders are overwhelmed and they step all over everybody stumbling out to (presumably) go for a piss or another line of low grade bugle and then blunder back in repeating their faux-pas withoutsomuch as an 'excuse me please' or 'I beg your pardon'. 'S gonna be great fun a real anthroplogist's wet-dream, specially if your metier is the minimum number of functioning neurons required in an ambulant biped. But y'know "we've got our Charlton back"
Next up: the low alcohol super shrill version of the above i.e. kids for a quid
Stig. Have you thought about ringing the club and volunteering some thoughts for a piece in the matchday programme?
More tickets sold at a fiver rather than free at Barnsley ....
Only at Charlton
🤷🏻♂️
Difference is you can bring a few people and all sit together, rather than 1 that would have probably ended up sat on there own.
Theres 6 of us coming to Blackburn, 3 of which have never been to the Valley before and 2 that have been once this season. Against Barnsley it was just me on me own, although I paid full price.
I mentioned on another thread that the young receptionist at Novotel in Greenwich started asking me about going to a match when he saw our scarves on Sat. He seemed to think getting a ticket would be hard - needing membership / selling out.
I told him it was pretty easy and about Football for a Fiver. Saw him again yesterday and he'd bought tickets for him and his mate - he said he could tell from the system they were selling fast!
East block H now has 119 spare seats so more than 300 available in the East. Most games this block has seats initially booked that then become spare - I sit in Block G & it seems that H is where blocks of comps are housed.
Just bought 7 tickets. Me plus 3 non-Charlton supporting mates who will be attending the Valley for the first time, 2 of their toddlers who don't like football and my old Grandad who needs a piss every 15 minutes. We're sitting in the same row as @StigThundercock
Oh fabulous, queues of illiterate half-wits failing to operate the foolproof turnstiles with their tickets, mental dwarfs paralysed by the complexity of the alphanumeric seat/row/block numbering system standing slack-jawed on gangways and rows bunging up access for we sentient adults and refusing to shift out of my seat cos they don't know where to go, feral ankle-biters bored shitless after 3 minutes kicking the back of my seat and their skin-wasting snowflake "parents" who get the flaming arsehole that anybody ever speaks to their child cos they themselves are so negligent and self-obsessed to ever show their little darlings any boundaries ever, let alone respect, dypsomaniac glory hunters who swill down buckets of overpriced flat kangaroo piss pre-match and at half-time who then can't last 10 minutes before their walnut sized bladders are overwhelmed and they step all over everybody stumbling out to (presumably) go for a piss or another line of low grade bugle and then blunder back in repeating their faux-pas withoutsomuch as an 'excuse me please' or 'I beg your pardon'. 'S gonna be great fun a real anthroplogist's wet-dream, specially if your metier is the minimum number of functioning neurons required in an ambulant biped. But y'know "we've got our Charlton back"
Next up: the low alcohol super shrill version of the above i.e. kids for a quid
Stig. Have you thought about ringing the club and volunteering some thoughts for a piece in the matchday programme?
Oh fabulous, queues of illiterate half-wits failing to operate the foolproof turnstiles with their tickets, mental dwarfs paralysed by the complexity of the alphanumeric seat/row/block numbering system standing slack-jawed on gangways and rows bunging up access for we sentient adults and refusing to shift out of my seat cos they don't know where to go, feral ankle-biters bored shitless after 3 minutes kicking the back of my seat and their skin-wasting snowflake "parents" who get the flaming arsehole that anybody ever speaks to their child cos they themselves are so negligent and self-obsessed to ever show their little darlings any boundaries ever, let alone respect, dypsomaniac glory hunters who swill down buckets of overpriced flat kangaroo piss pre-match and at half-time who then can't last 10 minutes before their walnut sized bladders are overwhelmed and they step all over everybody stumbling out to (presumably) go for a piss or another line of low grade bugle and then blunder back in repeating their faux-pas withoutsomuch as an 'excuse me please' or 'I beg your pardon'. 'S gonna be great fun a real anthroplogist's wet-dream, specially if your metier is the minimum number of functioning neurons required in an ambulant biped. But y'know "we've got our Charlton back"
Next up: the low alcohol super shrill version of the above i.e. kids for a quid
I reckon you don't go to these games.
Every example is from first hand experience this last year. Not all on the same day - not even a saintly patient zen practising paragon like me could possibly have withstood such provocation. The stumbling oaf with the thirst over capacity issues is there most weeks, presumably a season ticket holder, most dispiritingly all his family/friends seem blighted by the same afflictions. Saturday v Barnsley I waited behind 2 adult sized bipeds who having effetely waved their paper tickets around the reader appliance at the turnstile, ignoring all assistance from operatives and punters alike to "keep it still, under the red line" etc upon finally having the operative place said ticket under said line, were then intellectually defeated by the display turning green to read "Enter", failed to push turnstile in the direction of ingress to become trapped with a ticket that was then registered as used. Poor sod operative had to find a superior to override the turnstile to admit them. The 2nd dunce had just watched the 1st, only to repeat the fiasco, blunder for blunder. Shuffling in behind them I then hear the stage whisper "effing turnstile, doesn't effing work, and that bitch steward weren't no effing help" - said steward would have been well within her rights to kick the ingrate squarely in the balls and eject him for his behaviour. It beggars belief that the boor and its mate had managed to acquire tickets in the first place, or indeed managed to coordinate themselves out of bed, into clothes and out of the house, let alone find the east stand turnstiles by 2:25pm on match day.
We never win a game when footy for a fiver or kids for quid, normally a 0-0 bore draw to reward the the potential new fans they attracted due to the price 😂 ill sit this one out
May be wrong, but I think we beat Chesterfield 3-1 at a football for a fiver game?
Leon Clarke was a right handful for them that day. He got brought down and scored the penalty for their goal.
My memory of Leon Clarke in that game is him missing an open goal and getting the 'are you Torres in disguise?' chant
More than 20,000 tickets have already been sold for the upcoming game against Blackburn Rovers at The Valley.
Fewer than 90 tickets remain in the Covered End and fewer than 65 are left in the North West quadrant as The Valley looks set for the largest attendance of the season.
Due to the demand, Blocks H and R in the West Stand will be opened for the game as well as Blocks B and A in the East Stand.
Comments
But y'know "we've got our Charlton back"
Next up: the low alcohol super shrill version of the above i.e. kids for a quid
Welcome to the Lower Covered End every f***ing week!
Only at Charlton
🤷🏻♂️
Theres 6 of us coming to Blackburn, 3 of which have never been to the Valley before and 2 that have been once this season. Against Barnsley it was just me on me own, although I paid full price.
4 Family
53 Lower Covered
83 Upper Covered
168 NW Quadrant
375 Lower West
782 Upper West
1,684 left, so @ 19,316 home tickets sold.
i.e. When he spoke about revenue etc. surely it would be beneficial to re-open those sections of the East and West again
Especially if we continue to have high attendances
I told him it was pretty easy and about Football for a Fiver. Saw him again yesterday and he'd bought tickets for him and his mate - he said he could tell from the system they were selling fast!
Hope he enjoys it.
Will almost certainly have to open up East Blocks.
Looking forward to it.
Saturday v Barnsley I waited behind 2 adult sized bipeds who having effetely waved their paper tickets around the reader appliance at the turnstile, ignoring all assistance from operatives and punters alike to "keep it still, under the red line" etc upon finally having the operative place said ticket under said line, were then intellectually defeated by the display turning green to read "Enter", failed to push turnstile in the direction of ingress to become trapped with a ticket that was then registered as used. Poor sod operative had to find a superior to override the turnstile to admit them. The 2nd dunce had just watched the 1st, only to repeat the fiasco, blunder for blunder. Shuffling in behind them I then hear the stage whisper "effing turnstile, doesn't effing work, and that bitch steward weren't no effing help" - said steward would have been well within her rights to kick the ingrate squarely in the balls and eject him for his behaviour. It beggars belief that the boor and its mate had managed to acquire tickets in the first place, or indeed managed to coordinate themselves out of bed, into clothes and out of the house, let alone find the east stand turnstiles by 2:25pm on match day.
Fewer than 90 tickets remain in the Covered End and fewer than 65 are left in the North West quadrant as The Valley looks set for the largest attendance of the season.
Due to the demand, Blocks H and R in the West Stand will be opened for the game as well as Blocks B and A in the East Stand.
https://www.cafc.co.uk/news/view/5e39495865462/more-seats-made-available-for-footballforafiver-as-tickets-sold-passes-20000