Dad first took me in 1968/69 season and after one game I was hooked. Used to walk to the games from Woolwich, dad would pay the guy on the turnstile and I would duck under and get in for free. Always stood on the East terrace and for the first few years I joined all the other kids down the front so we had a good view. As I got older and taller I would stay with Dad and lean on a crash barrier.
I would read the programme from back to front, we bought peanuts off the peanut man and win lose or draw I was as happy as Larry. We would walk home after the game and by the time we got back to Woolwich the local newsagent would have the latest copy of the Evening Standard hot off the press with all the days results in it. I would then spend the next hour taking in all the results and league tables.
The biggest disappointment was the Sunday papers as we never seemed to get good coverage in any of them and very rarely a photo of the action.
My dad was a Man Utd fan and so I was brought up the same as he used to take me to matches. When I wanted to go football on my own, travelling to Manchester wasn’t an option so Charlton was the most local to SE9 so that’s where I went.
Growing up at school with Chelski supporting mates and feeling I was different to them and not a glory hunter
I had already been to Chelski and my dad took me to Charlton ( v Carlisle) in March 67 .Eddie Firmani scored the only goal and the Covered End was singing his name.There was no looking back after that day.I never forgave my Dad after that😀
Cos I wasn’t cnutish or hard enough to support the scum and wasn’t brought up in Bromley to support palace SE9 meant Charlton Athletic got the most knowledgeable away fan geek in the land
My dad was a teenage glory-hunter in the 1940s. Thanks dad.
To be fair, he lived out in the sticks and there was no local option. He used to say he was sure he'd never even suggested Charlton to me, and I know the only club he ever took me to see when I was young was our local non-league outfit. So he was a bit puzzled when I ended up supporting Charlton despite us living the wrong side of London. I guess I must have picked up on him reacting to results on Final Score.
Cos I wasn’t cnutish or hard enough to support the scum and wasn’t brought up in Bromley to support palace SE9 meant Charlton Athletic got the most knowledgeable away fan geek in the land
I had no choice. Both sides of my family have always supported Charlton. I remember my late dad, who didn’t go to away games in the Fifties and Sixties, would go and watch any London home game when Charlton were away. In fact, he ended up going to watch Arsenal a lot if they were at home when Charlton were away. I don’t know if this was a ‘thing’ in those days.
Cos I wasn’t cnutish or hard enough to support the scum and wasn’t brought up in Bromley to support palace SE9 meant Charlton Athletic got the most knowledgeable away fan geek in the land
Had to find something to pass the time on a Saturday between Saint and Greavsie finishing at 1PM and Baywatch starting at 5.30PM - watching us flounder is a as good a pastime as any other I suppose.
Dad first took me in 1968/69 season and after one game I was hooked. Used to walk to the games from Woolwich, dad would pay the guy on the turnstile and I would duck under and get in for free. Always stood on the East terrace and for the first few years I joined all the other kids down the front so we had a good view. As I got older and taller I would stay with Dad and lean on a crash barrier.
I would read the programme from back to front, we bought peanuts off the peanut man and win lose or draw I was as happy as Larry. We would walk home after the game and by the time we got back to Woolwich the local newsagent would have the latest copy of the Evening Standard hot off the press with all the days results in it. I would then spend the next hour taking in all the results and league tables.
The biggest disappointment was the Sunday papers as we never seemed to get good coverage in any of them and very rarely a photo of the action.
Happy Days, RIP Dad.
More or less exactly the same except we’d rush home to watch Dr Who in black and white.
Family. I'm a 4th generation Addick. Looking forward to passing on the batten of misery and making my boys 5th generation Addicks at some point, which was in serious doubt before TS came along.
Started going in '68 and living in Gravesend and not having a car my dad needed somewhere easy to get to and was big enough so I wouldn't get squashed so chose Charlton, we could only go midweek at first as my dad did much needed overtime on Saturdays, Charlton wasn't a scheduled stop for the fast train then and only stopped there especially on match days, later on when he changed jobs and had Saturdays off we did Charlton one week and the Gills the other as they played at home alternate weekends, chose the right way to go tho, many years of happy memories, wouldn't change a thing
My late Dad - first took me in 1976 - no idea who we played - my Dad was first taken by an uncle of his in 1946, and that uncle first went and watched Charlton shortly after the club started playing at the Valley
My Dad takes the blame. His old man supported Arsenal, but as my Dad lived a short walk from The Valley he decided Charlton were the team for him - and me.....I must remember to thank him at some point.
My parents had two children and didn't want any more. One New Year's Eve, my Dad had more than his regulation one or two beers. My mother, who usually stuck to one or two glasses of sherry, had a couple more too. These drinks seemed to impair their decision-making. The result was that I was born 9 months later in a suburb of London called Charlton. From the age of about two, I was made aware that red and white was the colour to wear as my parents, grandparents, relatives, friends and everyone on the planet, so it seemed in my small world, supported Charlton. I was someone who followed the crowd, so rather than the oddball who supported Manchester United and the like, I stuck with Charlton. Here I am, many years later, still sticking with red and white, finding red and blue abhorrent, and supporting Charlton. Whether I still follow the crowd, I'll leave everyone else to judge.
I'm a reverse glory hunter, I started supporting Man City after the 1969 Cup Final v Leicester (which City won 1-0), mainly because I preferred City's Black & Red striped kit. Around 1975 my dad took me to the occasional evening match at the Valley. Gradually I moved from a life of potential, success and glory, to one of mediocrity, occasional joy, but mostly frustration and disappointment.
Comments
Staying local!
Dad first took me in 1968/69 season and after one game I was hooked. Used to walk to the games from Woolwich, dad would pay the guy on the turnstile and I would duck under and get in for free. Always stood on the East terrace and for the first few years I joined all the other kids down the front so we had a good view. As I got older and taller I would stay with Dad and lean on a crash barrier.
I would read the programme from back to front, we bought peanuts off the peanut man and win lose or draw I was as happy as Larry. We would walk home after the game and by the time we got back to Woolwich the local newsagent would have the latest copy of the Evening Standard hot off the press with all the days results in it. I would then spend the next hour taking in all the results and league tables.
The biggest disappointment was the Sunday papers as we never seemed to get good coverage in any of them and very rarely a photo of the action.
Happy Days, RIP Dad.
When I wanted to go football on my own, travelling to Manchester wasn’t an option so Charlton was the most local to SE9 so that’s where I went.
To be fair, he lived out in the sticks and there was no local option. He used to say he was sure he'd never even suggested Charlton to me, and I know the only club he ever took me to see when I was young was our local non-league outfit. So he was a bit puzzled when I ended up supporting Charlton despite us living the wrong side of London. I guess I must have picked up on him reacting to results on Final Score.
I blame the old man