Protest on Saturday

It's unlikely that anyone who reads this blog needs to be told, but here's a quick recap.

Largely as a result of Katrien Meire's calamitous appearance on a "web summit", the current of opinion has fully turned against the way she and her boss are managing Charlton Athletic. For a much more detailed history, look at Darryl's brilliant analysis.

There will be a big protest after tomorrow's game and probably a smaller one at 2:30. Please come along to either or both, and join in any chants during the game. Forest fans, of course, are welcome to join in.

The damage that has already been done to the club is serious. Perhaps this is the last chance to stop it being terminal.

Charlton 0 Wolves 2

A terrible first half (once again) suggested Wolves manager Careful Kenny Jackett hadn't done his research. His team looked tentative and nervous, not bothering to do much attacking. Charlton didn't do much attacking either, but it wasn't for lack of trying, having four forwards on the pitch. Pay attention, Big  Ken! A bit more enterprise and you could have had the game sewn up by half time.

On the other hand, his assumption that he could allow Charlton all the possession in the world without risk was bang on. Those four forwards managed two shots on goal in the whole game. OK, three if we count Makienok's sporting return of the ball to the Wolves keeper after the most entertaining incident of the first half: the accidental demolition of a referee. When Makienok collides with you, large hadrons are produced, and Keith Hill was replaced for the second half, presumably on fears of concussion.

At half time, I can only imagine Crafty Ken pointed out to his team that their opposition was vulnerable. They played with more purpose and inevitably ... well, you've read the headline, you know the score.

Briefly, goaded by the boos after the first goal, Charlton played with a bit more commitment, but it all came to nothing, and the best football followed Wolves' second goal, when the visitors actually put together some quite pretty moves. Or maybe I was hallucinating, dehyrated, by then.

I'm going to say one nice thing about Karel Fraeye. At the end he left the pitch before the team, drawing the boos the performance deserved, with the result that the fans, those who were left, could give the team sympathetic, rather than appreciative, applause.

But that's it. There's nothing else good about him. He's totally out of his depth and at any other club would have been sacked by now. Presumably he's very cheap, which is why he got and keeps the job. A false economy compared to the financial cliff-edge that relegation will be.

The proudest moment was when the majority of the home support stood up for chant "Stand up if you want them out". These are the little victories we can cherish these days.

Charlton 2 Bolton 2

In this clash of the overpaid v the unpaid there should only have been one winner. Bolton, along with Blackpool, have been a team whose plight lets us think things could be worse.

Indeed they could. Charlton's only ability this season is to make things worse, sometimes twice in one week.

It looked fine for 20 minutes. An easy goal after 26 seconds, followed by a really good goal, put Charlton into a lead that any competent team would have found it impossible to relinquish.

Charlton relinquished it.

Bolton were terrible, but they weren't the most terrible team on the pitch. Charlton - two nil up against the basket case of the division - started wasting time after 20 minutes. The defence looked nervous and fragile whenever Bolton had possession, while the midfield and attack seemed to think its work was done after that encouraging start.

Bolton's players could sense the weakness, and far from giving up, raised their game. It was rarely above the merely competent but that was all that was needed. Their first goal came out of nothing: a hopeful cross from the left finding Emile Heskey unmarked and unhindered. He's been playing professional football for 46 years: he doesn't miss chances like that. The second goal was the inevitable result of the defence's inability to clear the ball cleanly. Sooner or later, we all knew, it had to happen. That it happened shortly before half-time destroyed any hope of a fightback.

Some bizarre substitutions in the second half couldn't add anything, and the game came to resemble Saturday's match: two poor teams clumsily lumping out something that only occasionally looked like football.

The booing at the end was muted. Most of the crowd had already left. In fact, most of the crowd hadn't turned up. Official figure was 12,294, but it's well known that a lot of season ticket holders aren't bothering any more, so the real figure would be about 8,000 or, to put it another way, roughly 20,000 empty seats. Even with the phantoms included, it was the lowest attendance for a league game at the Valley since March 1998.

And the club still, six weeks after the sacking of Guy Luzon, has an Interim Head Coach. We all suspect that the club is waiting for the right moment to drop the pretence and reward Karel Fraeye for good results by making him permanent. Will that moment ever come?

Charlton 0 Leeds 0

This report will be as stuffed with thrills as the game itself.

An awful first half. Let's blame it on the blustery wind, but neither team seemed capable of holding on to the ball so there were very few clear chances after Reza's near miss on 10 minutes. Some encouraging signs - moments of class by Ricardo Vaz Te, and the clever, taunting running of Ademola Lookman - weren't enough to keep the crowd (officially 15,867 yeah right) warmed up. Even the Leeds fans were silent by halftime.

In the second half, there was no real improvement in quality, but at least the game became more interesting. Leeds will wonder how they ended up goalless, after a 20 minute spell of real threat, and while Charlton didn't have as many clear chances, on another day, in another galaxy far far away, they might have scored too.

It's a game that Channel 5 will bury somewhere after the advert for the Postcode lottery, when even the few people who started watching will have found something else to do that doesn't instill a loathing of humanity. Quite right too. Despite the flurry of incidents in the second half, a terrible advert for the Championship.

Charlton 0 Similar (but with an experienced-at-this-level manager) Club 3

Losing 3-0 isn't painful any more. Apathy is a wonderful analgesic. The painful thing about today's defeat is that it was like looking into an enchanted mirror. Ipswich are what Charlton could easily be: unlikely to get promoted this season, but efficient and effective, building the foundations of future achievement, followed by a huge contingent of committed supporters. And while they might look enviously at Norwich, their local rivals, currently enjoying life in the Prem, they can at least believe that that promised land isn't far beyond their grasp.

Meanwhile we look at Palace (yes, we must) and currently can't see any way we're going to be up there with them any time soon. Palace is an even more tragic magic mirror: there's no reason Charlton couldn't have achieved what they have. They've somehow put together a team that even P*rd*w can't make a mess of.

Unglücklich das Land, das Helden nötig hat

Once again, our season is all about avoiding relegation. This wasn't how it was meant to be when the Belgian billionaire rescued us from the shady dealers who, to be fair to them, made no secret of their evil intentions.

Maybe Karel Fraeye will prove us all wrong, but he seems to have come to the end of his new manager honeymoon quicker than Peeters or Luzon did; indeed, only David Wagner at Huddersfield is doing worse (moral of the story: never sack Chris Powell, for the Fates will punish you).

Even a football idiot could see that today's defeat was down to hilariously clueless defending and a total collapse in spirit. Something that you can't see someone like - ooh, let's pick a name at random - Mick McCarthy allowing. But absolutely normal at the Valley.

As soon as Johnny Jackson went off injured after 12 minutes, the day was over. He deserves all the praise he gets for the inspiration and leadership he provides, but it's a sign of the lack of engagement among the other players that he stands out so vividly. Without him, the team is a sluggish jellyfish. If his injury is serious, heaven help us.

What's gone wrong?

The breaking news that Tony Watt is off on loan to Cardiff puzzled a lot of fans last night. While there's a general feeling that his performances haven't been great lately, his early appearances were a ray of sunshine last winter. Surely that player is still there, just wanting the right kind of management to bring him out. So it seems odd to give a rival team that potential opportunity.

Gradually, though, the consensus decided that there must have been a falling out between Watt and Karel Fraeye. Rumours of Watt's difficult personality have followed him around Europe, to the extent that he denied them in some detail. My impression is that he's quite immature, even for his age, and probably a delight to work with when things are going well ... It's sad that his career is stuttering, and I hope for his sake the move does reignite his undoubted talent.

But, if the decision to send him away is justified, what does it say about the decision to buy him? Let's look at the history.

He joined Standard from Celtic in July 2014 for a "seven figure sum", which I've seen quoted as £1.25million, on a five year contract. At that time, Standard was still owned by Duchatelet, and Guy Luzon was the head coach. He seems to have played well initially but after Luzon was replaced by Ivan Vukomanovic in October, Watt's appearances were limited. He had become an expensive luxury for Standard.

Watt joined Charlton for the usual undisclosed fee in January 2015, shortly before Guy Luzon became head coach. It's hard to resist the conclusion that Luzon's name was already pencilled in when the Watt deal was made. It must have seemed as if Luzon was the right kind of management for this expensive asset. Perhaps there was still a chance to get some return on the investment.

Let's assume that Charlton paid £1.25million for him. That amounts to a transfer of that money from one Duchatelet club to another: value that Duchatelet cashed in when he sold Standard in June this year. If Watt is sold for less than that - which seems likely - it means that Charlton's finances have paid for what appears to have been a bad decision by Standard in July 2014.

A lot of speculation, of course, but it's  basically the same story as with the head coaches: if the decision to sack them is correct, then there must have been something wrong with the decision to hire them. Or vice versa. Either way, it's still more evidence of the bad football judgement of the Duchatelet setup.

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:

#CACT continues to teach children about a healthy heart @heartresearchuk @jordancousins94 https://t.co/4hkaw0NOAI pic.twitter.com/HXwbidhABe

— CACT (@CAFCTrust) November 12, 2015

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.