Charlton Athletic.
Regular readers of this blog will know how much I enjoy and look forward to London away days, so the fact that we were going to get two within the same month, both at 3pm on a Saturday, meant excitement levels were a little higher than normal this month.
There are some advantages to being shit; the Sky TV Overlords decided to leave both of these fixtures alone, which was also a blessing.
Millwall away on the last day of the month would be the annual ‘big do’, but as a soft opening came another South East London away day: a visit to The Valley, home of Charlton Athletic.
I love Charlton away. It’s a cracker. My first visit here was in November 2008, and it remains one of my favourite ever away days.
A short story.
That day in 2008, we decided to stupidly drive down, across, and then through South East London. As this was pre-YourParkingSpace days, after our epic journey down we were really struggling to find anywhere to park.
Eventually, after several close shaves, a few u-turns, and rising stress levels, we parked up on the side of some stupidly named road, and noticed an Addicks fan walking past.
“Are we okay to park here, mate?”
“Yeah, you’re fine. Are you Sheffield fans?”
“Sheffield United, yeah.”
“Ah okay. Well, good luck for the game lads, but I hope we absolutely smash you.”
The final score that day?
Charlton Athletic 2, Sheffield United 5.
Love that for me. Nicky Weaver was in ‘net for them, too. Double bubble.
“God, what’s she out jogging for at this time?! Get back to bed!”
Pre-match.
Back in the present day, OG Sam and I set off down the M1 to Brent Cross (a more reasonable car parking space this time, at least), and it was a great journey, as always.
Arriving in the Big Smoke relatively early, Greenwich would be our pre-match jaunt. Meeting several other legends en route, we settled first in The Trafalgar Tavern. Empty. Though it must be popular — every single table was reserved. The drinking tour of Greenwich continued throughout the day, with visits to The Plume of Feathers, The Cutty Sark Tavern, and finally The Pelton Arms. All cracking pubs, even though I wasn’t drinking.
Anyway, my companions very well-oiled, we eventually made our way to The Valley. Making our way through the never ending streets of SE7, we eventually arrived at the stadium and, once we’d navigated the frankly fucking dangerous concourse, got into our seats just before kick-off.
“What have I told you about touching things on the London underground?!”
The match.
United kicked off the game in decent league form, and we were easily the better team for the opening few minutes, in what would end up being a crazy and bewildering half of football.
Blades striking duo Patrick Bamford and Tom Cannon both spurned very good chances, being smartly denied by Addicks ’keeper Thomas Kaminski on both occasions, and when Djibril Soumaré struck the post via a deflection after 30 minutes, the away end were left wondering how we weren’t already out of sight.
And then. It happened.
Our disciplinary record this season has been very good, but that record took a hit when the aforementioned Soumaré was shown a straight red card for a bad tackle on Harvey Nibbs just five minutes later. The decision looked harsh in real time, but replays shared from back home showed the young midfielder did leave his foot in. The fact that Nibbs was then stretchered off as a result also meant the foul had been rather serious.
Bad went to worse for United five minutes later. Blades captain Japhet Tanganga had already been a flea in the referee’s ear, but when he was also sent off for what looked like a very soft aerial challenge, the away end went apoplectic at the referee (and now star of the show), Oliver Langford. He seemed very quick to get his cards out, and what had been a totally dominant display was now a free hit for us, with United down to just nine men.
“Bree? I’ve always preferred Camembert myself.”
The remaining United players started the second half completely up against it, and when Addicks substitute Sonny Carey (on for the injured Nibbs, no less) scored after just a minute, it was surely going to be a long old forty-five minutes. 1-0.
The Addicks, buoyed by that early second-half goal, applied the pressure, with home sub Tyreece Campbell overloading the right-hand side of our defence, but to no real avail. Any sort of result for United now would certainly be the result of the season.
There’s a certain amount of strength in adversity though, and the vociferous away end were determined to try and carry our beleaguered Blades team through what was left of the game. We truly were in superb voice.
I’m not sure you could say that the noisy away end affected how the home team played out the rest of the half, but Charlton had been absolutely awful in the first half — and they were awful in this half too, despite their lead.
United continued to huff and puff, and sarcastic shouts and cheers every time the referee gave us a decision meant at least we were trying to see the humour in the absurd situation, but the below-par home team held out.
Full time then, and despite the defeat, overall it had been a proper ballsy second-half performance from the Blades. You can never be sure, but I’d like to think that with eleven men we’d have got a fully deserved result today.
“One-nil, to the referee, one-nil, to the referee!”
Post-match.
The defiant United fans in the away end stayed behind to show their appreciation, with scenes reminiscent of a famous United away win, despite the actual result. The fact we walked away from the ground today having not been absolutely hammered really is a huge positive, and the character and mentality shown will hopefully serve us well in the second half of a long season.
It’s also long, long journey home from London when you’ve lost, and the fact the defeat had been helped by a questionable refereeing display really stung the whole way back to Sheffield.
Well, as the saying goes: win, lose or draw…
A quick turnaround, and it’s another long, long journey down to the south coast on Wednesday night. Southampton away. I need my fucking head testing.
“God, what’s she out jogging for at this time?! Get back to bed!” > take away one letter and I reckon a few people have said that about me… An away day in London but in a part of the city where it feels like the town’s club, not another London club lost in the metropolis - a good one indeed!