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Saboteur

12 November 2015

Countdown to apathy

Of all the recent wheezes by the Charlton management, the fans sofa seems to be the one that's most successful in annoying supporters. On Saturday before the match Katrien Meire was told in no uncertain terms what she could do with it. Jim Davidson, who was there, said she seemed scared and confused. I think the first half of that sentence explains the second. She consoled herself by laughing and taking a photograph. Fair enough: different people, different coping mechanisms.

I don't mind the fans sofa, personally. It doesn't offend my old school outlook. I have no intention of attempting to get a seat on it, but I can see it could be fun sitting there like the king of the world. But for me, it just means that while the camera pans around for a gesticulating exhibitionist, I just bury my head deeper in my imaginary American newspaper (the Boston Rag, since you ask),  and suck my old teeth.

Same for the piecam. I suppose I ought to get indignant that a club which can do this:

can also give away a box of pies to someone who has, if not for much longer, the ability to jump up and down a bit. But I like pies as much as the next man. Unless the next man is Steve Evans. When Leeds come to the Valley next month, let's hope the pies are well hidden.

What pisses me off more than these is the countdown to nothing, the would-be pearl of the quarter hour before the game. About ten minutes before kickoff the big screen is filled with a digital clock showing two minutes to go and ticking down to dramatic music. Oh my gosh the tension! Wass gonna happen? Red devils parachuting in? Fireworks? An opera singer (I really miss Victoria Stanyon) or some other show biz kids?  A personal appearance by Roland "Razor Boy" Duchatelet? (Now I'm drifting into fantasy land.) None of these: just a competent but unexciting showreel of big events from the club's history (which inexplicably doesn't include the day the yellow lines in the stands got repainted). Massively underwhelming the first time you see it, stupid and irritating thereafter.

I could claim the countdown is a symbol of all that's wrong with the club at the moment: the valuing of display over achievement, the foisting onto the fans of irrelevant fripperies they don't need and don't want. But you can work that out for yourself, I'm sure.

1 comment :

Pete said...

Hammer. Nail. Bang on target!