I could have been a ******* supporter

Are there others like me whose clear destiny was to be a Charlton supporter but who could have been led astray by simply having been born in the wrong place at the wrong time?

In my case I was brought up as a child in North London in the years immediately following WWII.
It was common in those days for the bulk of the menfolk living in the area (including those who had been de-mobilised) to go to Arsenal one week and Spurs the next. The sense of camaraderie engendered by the War Years (including many professional 'guest' players turning out for teams nearest to where they were garrisoned) meant that there was nothing of the intense tribalism between rival fans of neighbouring clubs which emerged so graphically in the 1970s.

My father was no exception to the post-War appetite for football every week rather than once a fortnight and how I escaped the clutches of Spurs (or worse Arsenal) I will never know.
Usually, your first game means the die is cast and for me it was Spurs. However - despite being given a little metal cockerel to wear by a well-meaning stranger in a Cafe somewhere in the vicinity of White Hart Lane, I have zero memory of the match itself. This is unusual I know. I can only put it down to the fact that my age (around 6) had something to do with it and in those days football was not shown on B/W Television with the exception of the Cup Final I think so very little exposure other than live games and very different to today.

I suspect that this was not lost on my father who thankfully never took me to Highbury (at least as far as I can recollect!) nor another Spurs game. Clearly, in his eyes I didn't have the makings of a football fan but of course what he didn't know is that I was saving myself for the one true love Charlton Athletic.

So, the great escape - in 1959 my parents upped sticks and made their way to Kent (ok Sidcup) and here the story beings which was to shape my life forever. Never having had the slightest interest in football the call of The Valley came a few years later half-way through the 1961-62 season.

HOOKED! It was always meant to be. I wonder whatever happened to that little cockerel?

By the end of that season I was attending my first away (at the old Goldstone ground of Brighton and Hove Albion) and a 2-2 draw with Willie Duff injured and John Hewie playing in goal because there were no fit goalkeepers left in the squad - can you imagine this today?

When we were in the Prem....the irony of meeting some young Arsenal supporters in the Valley Cafe and having to explain to them why we call then the Woolwich Rejects sticks in the mind as does - to my eternal shame - my refusal to give the local tour guide a tip when we were on holiday in Cambodia because he was wearing a Gooner shirt - this did not go down well with our fellow travelers.

So to coin and adulterate massively Roy Batty's dying words from Blade Runner:

I've seen things other fans wouldn't believe. Two late goals at the St Andrews play-off from Peter Shirtliff. The Mendonca Wembley hat-trick in The Greatest Game, Robinson's equaliser v Manchester United, Mark Stuart's winner against the same opposition but at Old Trafford.
Inflicting a home defeat on Mourinho's Chelsea in the League cup only for him to claim that a defeat on penalties doesn't count. The jubilation of the 4-3 away win at Villa to put off relegation by one more week. The walk to Loftus Road from The Valley in 1967 in support of new manager Eddie Firmani. This, all this and so much more. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain........................

Arsenal fans - you can keep your record breaking 12/13 FA Cups whatever, Spurs, your second place and Champions League football, the double years - I'll take the above and the joy and pain of being a Charlton fan for over 50 years.