I was at a friend's birthday drink in a bar in Phuket a couple of nights ago. The TV was tuned to one of the Thai sports channels and at one point I looked up to see two teams coming out of the tunnel at Stamford Bridge, one the obvious blue shirts of a John Terry-led Chelsea, the other being the rather more obscure red shirts adorned with the All-Sports logo. I choked a little, partly in surprise at seeing my team on TV at that particular moment, but more because it was so sad to think of what's happened to us over the past ten years. It was an average Charlton side with the likes of Brian Hughes in midfield and Lisbie leading the line with Jonatan Johansson, but even though I was living in Thailand at the time, that was my team, a team to be proud of, owners that cared and a bespectacled Alan Curbishley sitting in the dugout taking notes. We even had a strong subs bench that day with Kiely, Fish, Rommedahl, Euell and Barry Fuller, a name that had completely slipped my memory.
I didn't bother to watch. I did that in 2005 in a pub in Peckham during a trip back home. It wasn't a particularly great game, hence an odd choice to show at this time, the highlight being Makelele's last minute winner. Charlton had long entered their 40 plus points cruise-control mode but just unexpectedly seeing this team on TV made me feel so sad and brought home why I want my Charlton back, and I don't mean the Premier League glory days, just a club to be proud of, a club that's respected around the country, players that would play for the shirt and a real manager.
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I hated seeing the smirking Scott Parker in the stand.