At primary school I was a bit of a tart . I went through Man
Utd , West Ham , Spurs and Liverpool . I must admit I wasn't impressed the
first time he took me to Charlton . I saw us lose 4-0 to the Brian Clough managed
Brighton in 1973/74 .
Supporting Charlton grew on me .The next time I remember
going was after promotion to the Second Division . It was a big televised game
against Sunderland in 1975/76 . Although we lost again 2-1 . I managed to get him to take me again the following month when I saw Charlton win 2-0 against
Plymouth Argyle on a Friday night . I always loved the old Valley when floodlit
.I particularly remember from that season going with him to a classic game
against Fulham complete with Bobby Moore and Alan Mullery when Killer scored a
last minute winner to win it 3-2.
It was the next season that I made the transition to becoming
a fully fledged Charlton supporter . I concluded that as I never watched
Liverpool live so it was illogical to say I supported them . We got season
tickets in that season and the 6-2 victory against the FA Cup winners
Southampton sealed the deal.
Dad was a Charlton supporter, lived close enough to the ground to walk there and back which is exactly what we did one Saturday afternoon in 1968. It was cold, wet, a poor game and we got beat. Did it put me off...........................not a chance here I am 52 years later.
I was born in Plumstead and got interested in football when I was about eight or nine years old. It was the 70's and I followed Charlton because they were local and Leeds because they were good.
Me and a mate sneaked into The Valley one Saturday, over a concrete wall near the bogs and I was hooked on live football. Obviously couldn't watch Leeds live so gradually lost interest in them.
Got tickets to my first Charlton game in 1994 for free due to tickets that had been given out to my school - As a result a work mate of my Dad's started taking me to a handful of Charlton games... That was combined with the fact that I was doing their summer courses through CACT each year
Moved to Sheffield aged 5. Dad had been a season ticket holder at The Valley for years until moving North from Welling.
Wednesday and United reps came round my school when I was aged 6. I joined Young Owls and Junior Blades as my mates did. United sent through some complimentary tickets. I believe dad said enough is enough and he took me.to.my first Charlton hgme at Mansfield Town I. 77-78 season. Won 3-0. Fate sealed.
Took daughter, as a 10 year-old, to 13 away games winning 12, drawing one, in title winning season 2011. Fate sealed.
Charlton picked me, in my blood my DNA and my bones. (And it was easy to bunk in over the Heights!) First game was in 1965, never looked back. Love this club with all my heart. Love our fans , our family, our community. Have a clause in my will that i will go into the crematorium in my centenary shirt
I love your optimism. If I make 100, I'm going have a centenary shirt too, but I don't think it'll ever happen.
Just finding some of this out and trying to confirm this, but it seems I was shipped out to my uncle and aunts on the day of my fathers death and my uncle was going to Charlton in 1963. I’ve no idea if it’s true 🤷♂️ Although Charlton were at home to Chelsea on day he died.
In 1952, Fred and Rose (not West before you ask) lived in a terraced house in Charlton with their two children. On New Year’s Eve that year, they decided to have a few drinks. They had a few more than planned and as they went to bed that night, they forgot about the fact they only wanted to have two children. The result was that they had a wonderful son who was born in that terraced house just over nine months later. They gave some thought as to what to name this child. Fred always wore a tie to work and Rose after the birth felt some malaise. “Let’s name him Thai Malaysia Addick” said Fred, a third generation Charlton supporter. “That’s a strange name”, said Rose, pedantically trying to correct Fred’s spelling. “And, besides, the country is Malaya”, she added. Fred took Thai Malaysia Addick to see Charlton play when he was four. The boy never looked back.
My dad said that when he first became aware of football, Charlton (his local team, he grew up in Blackfen), were one of the best teams in the country, playing in the first division, getting to two consecutive cup finals and winning the second. His dad wasn’t interested in football so my dad went with a school friend and his dad to games, starting in the early 50s. He took me to the Valley aged 5 in 1970.
My life was too easy, no stress, annoyance or frustration, I could sleep sweet unhindered dreams, my health was fine......then one day my cousin said "fancy going to the footy".
Brought up in the shaddow of The Valley and all my family are Charlton (brother is Chelsea, but my nephew being brought up Charlton by the looks of it). Said before that I did go Spurs for a couple of seasons from about 12 y/o to maybe 15 y/o, but all the time still going a few Charlton home games over Selhurst and Upton Park.
Now have a dislike for Spurs that is up there with Palace and Arsenal
Great Grandmother started supporting when they first formed and Support has been passed down the family since then. Never any thought or chance of supporting anyone else it would not have been tolerated.
I lived at the top of Church Lane opposite the church,and used to watch my dad join the throng going past up to two hours before kick off,I had little interest,but one day dad said come on,it was a night game I think Preston and we won 2-1 that was it hooked 65 years later still hooked.My dad by the way was a bermondsey boy and had supported Millwall orior to moving to Charlton.After a few valley visits he said,come on lets go see some real football.53 bus to New Cross,Millwall v Southampton div 3 south.0-0 draw not a player under 6ft. ball in the air for 90 minutes,even at my tender age I thought this is crap,but he would not have it.Just could not change clubs,once addicted always addicted.
My family started to migrate to Hertfordshire straight after the war, Stevenage being the new town chosen to re-house bombed out SE Londoners.
I came along in 1968, my mum and dad mere teenagers which wasn't too common back then. Both worked long hours to make ends meet, as a result I often stayed with relatives in SE London during school holidays and at weekends. I would play football with local kids most supported Charlton, Arsenal or Millwall, though I never saw a Palace shirt.
Grandad would take me to both The Valley & The Den before dog racing at Catford but I still supported Liverpool like everyone else in my Welwyn Garden City school.
This continued until 83/84 season when in a space of weeks I went to see Liverpool for the first time away at Spurs, the mate I went with faked a scouse accent once in the ground and the away fans continually sang about hitting 'poor little Cockney's with a brick. It just felt wrong and I remember feeling happy when Steve Archibald grabbed a an equaliser in a 2-2 draw. I had no connection to Liverpool, why was I there?
A few days later my uncle took me to the Valley, it was either this or shopping with my nan in Deptford, we stood at the back of the East Terrace and Valley just grabbed me in a way I can't explain, this was where I belonged, these were my roots.
First day back at school, I declared to mass ridicule I had changed teams, I went to every home game left that season, joined the Army in 1985 as a boy soldier and would go to Selhurst when home on leave. I went AWOL for the Full Members Cup Final, blagged my way into the Woolwich Town Hall meetings, cleared the pitch that Sunday and eventually, with the unforgettable return to the Valley, my dad started coming with me after a lapse of 20+ years, even my Grandad in his 80's occasionally.
Both my mum and dad died far too young in recent years but today, myself, my son, my brother, cousins and nephews remain passionate Addicks.
The family may now be firmly located in Hertfordshire but its heart and soul remains in South London.
I just hope with every fibre in me that we are on the verge of getting our club back and can all just watch our football team again instead of having to fight for it. I am personally exhausted from years and years of protesting
Apologies for the long emotional post but it feels like it could be a long emotional day.
We lived in Greenwich by Blackwall Lane until I was five. My brother had been to a few games with an older neighbour who was a fan but I have no recollection of this. When we moved to New Cross Gate my brother switched to the spanners and he says I then decided to support Charlton just to be awkward.
I actually have no memory of deciding to support Charlton but I do remember waking up early on Sunday mornings at around the age of seven or eight to get the papers that had been delivered through the door and return to bed to devour the results and the one I looked for first was Charlton.
First went to Charlton in 1953 just loved the ground and the journey from east London, played football for the supporters club and have great memories.
It took a long time for me. My Mum used to go with her Dad as they lived in Charlton, and one of my regrets is I never talked to her about it. If you'd asked me who I supported when I was a kid I'd have said Man U, but I never went to a live game and drifted away from being interested in football. I had several near misses when mates got into Millwall but by then I had other interests that kept me busy. Fast forward to the 2000s, and I was working with a Charlton season ticket holder and we'd talk about games. I'd go camping with mates two of whom were Charlton fans. And I found myself looking out for results. My son started pushing me to take him to a game when he was about 6, so I finally did in the Chris Powell season. I used to badger my dad and he never took me to a game and I didn't want to make the same mistake. He was bored by it but we tried a couple more times and my daughter (then aged 11) tagged along. He lost interest but she and I were hooked. We celebrated at Wembley a few days after her 18th birthday. She came down with me to the £1 protest last weekend. I can honestly say we have 4 generations of fans, but there was a gap.
I tried everything as a kid not to support Charlton because my waste of space Dad did, but I just couldn't get away from them. I'd read their match reports in the local free papers, and then you had Kid for a Quid deals, and eventually pals at school talking about them, it just seemed inevitable that it was going to happen so I gave in.
It has given me some of the best days I could ask for, and I've managed to get my Son to follow the trend so I'm not alone in suffering!!!
Because as a toddler I wanted to keep a roof over my head.
In all seriousness, both sides of my family are Charlton, and in 1910 my great-great-grandad was appointed club secretary, so I've never had any other choice.
My Dad (RIP) took me to my first game on my 6th birthday (some present !). Won 2-0 against Hereford, in fact we won almost every home game that season. Naively thought that Charlton were an unbeatable force..
Dad came over from Bantry Bay in early 50’s, lived in digs, met my mum ... married, rented a couple of rooms in Victoria Way Charlton ... I came along a couple of years later ... taken to the Valley before my 5th birthday ... no money in the family so didn’t go often ... moved to Cherry Orchard Estate Charlton when I was 10 ... met a few kids my age also into Charlton ... within a couple of years we were all going without our parents to the open South terrace ... loved watching the Covered End from afar ... by the next season, we were there 😀
Do you visit your Dads homeplace? Call in for a cuppa if you do, we’re in Baltimore, not that far away 👍🏼
No connection to the area at all but was heavily into the London football scene in the early 80's.
Went to Charlton for Simonsen's debut to find a decaying club and a pretty shite but oddly entertaining team. The quirky ground with its mammoth terrace on one side and a laughably small subbuteo stand on the other just added to the interest. I found the contrasts uniquely fascinating. One moment Simonsen was gliding past players like they weren't there....the next moment, Aizlewood was shanking one into the vast chasm of the East Terrace for yet another throw-on and another volley of abuse from the fans. For a run of the mill game, you would get 5,800 rattling around in a ground that could still hold big numbers (despite the dreadful seats behind the goal!). But for the bigger games, you could glimpse back in time to those black and white photos of packed terraces and the buzz was excellent.
It was the perfect mix and I got into it straight away. It wasn't long before I made my first ever away trip on my own....,to Newcastle for a plucky 4-2 defeat in front of a hostile crowd. Looking back, that wasn't a bad effort for a 15 year old who knew no-one on the train at all. There were a clutch of CLASSIC matches that season which further helped seal the deal; Ipswich 2-3, Chelsea 5-2 and Bolton 4-1. I remember more about those games than any of the games in the Premier League or since.
Plus I've always preferred being the under-dog in sport. That's helped keep everything firmly in perspective.
4th generation Addick who was taken to see my first game at 3. No other option from then on but always get the impression my Mum would have written me out of the will if I had decided to support anyone else
Grew up in Maidstone, so my first live football was watching the proper MUFC. Remember a pre-season friendly at Dartford against Charlton where both sets of fans were singing about having no home. Followed Maidstone through their brief (3 year) Football League journey including Lincoln away as well as many others. When it all went tits up for Maidstone, an offer to all supporters was to watch Charlton at Upton Park, decent seats, coach from the town, plus a programme for a fiver. The offer continued for a few games and that's when I knew that red was the new black and amber. I've been to see Maidstone in their new stadium, but didn't feel right. COYA
As a kid, I loved playing football, and always wanted to go to watch a "proper" football match. My dad was not interested in football, and as there was a war on, Mum would not let me go, doodle bugs and rockets, (not the firework sort, but the V2 kind) were still around. So it was the 45/46 season before I was aloud to go, and only then, in the company of my friend and his Dad, who lived two doors away. They were Palace supporters, so it was to Selhurst Park I was taken. After a while. if i wasn't playing. and Palace were at home I would go on my own, an easy journey, 194 to the "Robin Hood", and trolley bus to Selhurst
It was one Saturday, I would think about November 1947, I was not playing that day, and Palace were away, I thought to myself, If I caught the 54 bus, that ran from the top of our road, over to Woolwich, I could go and watch that 1st division team, who were at Wembley last season, I got off the bus at Charlton Church, and join the crowd walking down the hill, and into the Valley by the (now) Bartram gate, and made my way to the top of the South Terrace, with the whole Valley laid out before me. When the teams appeared, they looked like "Subbutio men. When I happened to glance over the top of the covered end, what a delight, just behind the houses in Harvey Gardens was the North Kent Line, with the occasional steam locomotive trundling along, then beyond that, the Woolwich Road, with it's tram cars, and in the distance the river, with ocean going ships going to and fro. (I was later to join the Navy.) After that, it was no more Selhurst Park, only the Valley, and Charlton Athletic me,
A little after that, I took my 5 year old brother along with me. Who, these days, would allow an 11year old boy to take his little 5 year old brother on the bus from Elmers End to Charlton and into the Valley on their own. Did I do that poor little lad any favours I wonder? Many,many years later, sadly,he was buried wearing his Charlton scarf. Long before that, my brother walked into his living room one day, to find his son pouring over a map of London "What are you doing Son?" "Looking to see what football team I should support, Dad." "There is only one team to support Son, and that's Charlton."
I still meet up with my two nephews for a pre match pint, or two, at the "Anchor".
Football, steam trains, trams, and ships, what other ground could have competed.
Charlton were always the local (league) side, so even though I didn't support them as a child - for some bizarre reason when very young I supported Newcastle, maybe I liked the stripes! - I'd been to the odd game at The Valley and was aware of the goings on from the local paper, such as the Nelson/Bailey managerial issue or the Hales/Flanagan fight and fallout, and they were always "up there". Not being that involved though, the significance of the move to Selhurst in 1985 didn't really hit home at the time for me, indeed the promotion under Lennie would have meant more.
The game which fully converted me was the Leeds playoff match in 1987, listening to that on the radio while revising for my A levels was the tipping point...
Comments
Nobody warned me that a team came with the magnificent ground.
At primary school I was a bit of a tart . I went through Man Utd , West Ham , Spurs and Liverpool . I must admit I wasn't impressed the first time he took me to Charlton . I saw us lose 4-0 to the Brian Clough managed Brighton in 1973/74 .
Supporting Charlton grew on me .The next time I remember going was after promotion to the Second Division . It was a big televised game against Sunderland in 1975/76 . Although we lost again 2-1 . I managed to get him to take me again the following month when I saw Charlton win 2-0 against Plymouth Argyle on a Friday night . I always loved the old Valley when floodlit .I particularly remember from that season going with him to a classic game against Fulham complete with Bobby Moore and Alan Mullery when Killer scored a last minute winner to win it 3-2.
It was the next season that I made the transition to becoming a fully fledged Charlton supporter . I concluded that as I never watched Liverpool live so it was illogical to say I supported them . We got season tickets in that season and the 6-2 victory against the FA Cup winners Southampton sealed the deal.
Me and a mate sneaked into The Valley one Saturday, over a concrete wall near the bogs and I was hooked on live football. Obviously couldn't watch Leeds live so gradually lost interest in them.
Wednesday and United reps came round my school when I was aged 6. I joined Young Owls and Junior Blades as my mates did. United sent through some complimentary tickets. I believe dad said enough is enough and he took me.to.my first Charlton hgme at Mansfield Town I. 77-78 season. Won 3-0. Fate sealed.
Took daughter, as a 10 year-old, to 13 away games winning 12, drawing one, in title winning season 2011. Fate sealed.
It's more deal passed through generations.
Now have a dislike for Spurs that is up there with Palace and Arsenal
Never any thought or chance of supporting anyone else it would not have been tolerated.
I came along in 1968, my mum and dad mere teenagers which wasn't too common back then. Both worked long hours to make ends meet, as a result I often stayed with relatives in SE London during school holidays and at weekends.
I would play football with local kids most supported Charlton, Arsenal or Millwall, though I never saw a Palace shirt.
Grandad would take me to both The Valley & The Den before dog racing at Catford but I still supported Liverpool like everyone else in my Welwyn Garden City school.
This continued until 83/84 season when in a space of weeks I went to see Liverpool for the first time away at Spurs, the mate I went with faked a scouse accent once in the ground and the away fans continually sang about hitting 'poor little Cockney's with a brick. It just felt wrong and I remember feeling happy when Steve Archibald grabbed a an equaliser in a 2-2 draw. I had no connection to Liverpool, why was I there?
A few days later my uncle took me to the Valley, it was either this or shopping with my nan in Deptford, we stood at the back of the East Terrace and Valley just grabbed me in a way I can't explain, this was where I belonged, these were my roots.
First day back at school, I declared to mass ridicule I had changed teams, I went to every home game left that season, joined the Army in 1985 as a boy soldier and would go to Selhurst when home on leave. I went AWOL for the Full Members Cup Final, blagged my way into the Woolwich Town Hall meetings, cleared the pitch that Sunday and eventually, with the unforgettable return to the Valley, my dad started coming with me after a lapse of 20+ years, even my Grandad in his 80's occasionally.
Both my mum and dad died far too young in recent years but today, myself, my son, my brother, cousins and nephews remain passionate Addicks.
The family may now be firmly located in Hertfordshire but its heart and soul remains in South London.
I just hope with every fibre in me that we are on the verge of getting our club back and can all just watch our football team again instead of having to fight for it. I am personally exhausted from years and years of protesting
Apologies for the long emotional post but it feels like it could be a long emotional day.
I actually have no memory of deciding to support Charlton but I do remember waking up early on Sunday mornings at around the age of seven or eight to get the papers that had been delivered through the door and return to bed to devour the results and the one I looked for first was Charlton.
If you'd asked me who I supported when I was a kid I'd have said Man U, but I never went to a live game and drifted away from being interested in football. I had several near misses when mates got into Millwall but by then I had other interests that kept me busy.
Fast forward to the 2000s, and I was working with a Charlton season ticket holder and we'd talk about games. I'd go camping with mates two of whom were Charlton fans. And I found myself looking out for results. My son started pushing me to take him to a game when he was about 6, so I finally did in the Chris Powell season. I used to badger my dad and he never took me to a game and I didn't want to make the same mistake. He was bored by it but we tried a couple more times and my daughter (then aged 11) tagged along. He lost interest but she and I were hooked. We celebrated at Wembley a few days after her 18th birthday. She came down with me to the £1 protest last weekend. I can honestly say we have 4 generations of fans, but there was a gap.
It has given me some of the best days I could ask for, and I've managed to get my Son to follow the trend so I'm not alone in suffering!!!
In all seriousness, both sides of my family are Charlton, and in 1910 my great-great-grandad was appointed club secretary, so I've never had any other choice.
Call in for a cuppa if you do, we’re in Baltimore, not that far away 👍🏼
Went to Charlton for Simonsen's debut to find a decaying club and a pretty shite but oddly entertaining team. The quirky ground with its mammoth terrace on one side and a laughably small subbuteo stand on the other just added to the interest. I found the contrasts uniquely fascinating. One moment Simonsen was gliding past players like they weren't there....the next moment, Aizlewood was shanking one into the vast chasm of the East Terrace for yet another throw-on and another volley of abuse from the fans. For a run of the mill game, you would get 5,800 rattling around in a ground that could still hold big numbers (despite the dreadful seats behind the goal!). But for the bigger games, you could glimpse back in time to those black and white photos of packed terraces and the buzz was excellent.
It was the perfect mix and I got into it straight away. It wasn't long before I made my first ever away trip on my own....,to Newcastle for a plucky 4-2 defeat in front of a hostile crowd. Looking back, that wasn't a bad effort for a 15 year old who knew no-one on the train at all. There were a clutch of CLASSIC matches that season which further helped seal the deal; Ipswich 2-3, Chelsea 5-2 and Bolton 4-1. I remember more about those games than any of the games in the Premier League or since.
Plus I've always preferred being the under-dog in sport. That's helped keep everything firmly in perspective.
It was one Saturday, I would think about November 1947, I was not playing that day, and Palace were away, I thought to myself, If I caught the 54 bus, that ran from the top of our road, over to Woolwich, I could go and watch that 1st division team, who were at Wembley last season, I got off the bus at Charlton Church, and join the crowd walking down the hill, and into the Valley by the (now) Bartram gate, and made my way to the top of the South Terrace, with the whole Valley laid out before me. When the teams appeared, they looked like "Subbutio men.
When I happened to glance over the top of the covered end, what a delight, just behind the houses in Harvey Gardens was the North Kent Line, with the occasional steam locomotive trundling along, then beyond that, the Woolwich Road, with it's tram cars, and in the distance the river, with ocean going ships going to and fro. (I was later to join the Navy.) After that, it was no more Selhurst Park, only the Valley, and Charlton Athletic me,
A little after that, I took my 5 year old brother along with me. Who, these days, would allow an 11year old boy to take his little 5 year old brother on the bus from Elmers End to Charlton and into the Valley on their own. Did I do that poor little lad any favours I wonder? Many,many years later, sadly,he was buried wearing his Charlton scarf. Long before that, my brother walked into his living room one day, to find his son pouring over a map of London
"What are you doing Son?"
"Looking to see what football team I should support, Dad."
"There is only one team to support Son, and that's Charlton."
I still meet up with my two nephews for a pre match pint, or two, at the "Anchor".
Football, steam trains, trams, and ships, what other ground could have competed.
The game which fully converted me was the Leeds playoff match in 1987, listening to that on the radio while revising for my A levels was the tipping point...