Bugger Blackburn

Charlton 0 Blackburn Rovers 2


Curbs applauds the Charlton fans

The Inspector used this title for his piece (not with the name 'Blackburn' of course) about the previous Saturday's 1-4 defeat at Bolton, and I have appropriated the idea, and with good reason, as you will see.

Of course, the shock news that Alan Curbishley will not be continuing as Charlton's manager after the end of the season eclipsed most other things. but although Curbs's decision, announced a few minutes before the match began, and all the fuss, speeches and so forth, at the end, occupied most of the media's attention, and mine, of course, as I was, and still am, stunned almost into speechlessness, there was the other matter of a league fixture to be played, and it was against Blackburn Rovers.

This season they have thumped us 4-1 at Ewood Park; they have come back from being 2-0 down at the Valley to win 3-2 in the League Cup; and now here they were again, looking for a win to bolster their campaign to be in the UEFA Cup next season, and they got it. A reasonable account of the whole thing can be found here.

Whether Charlton's weak performance was because of the injuries and suspensions, or sheer shock and disbelief, I don't know; for apparently the players themselves knew nothing of Curbs's intentions until five minutes before the announcement was made to the spectators.

So Blackburn had it easy, and as I say, bugger Blackburn. I might well be unique in the world of football supporters in hating them so much, for, as I have mentioned in these pages before, I went to primary school in a little country town not far from Blackburn, where you either supported the Rovers, or Burnley, somewhat further away, but still a more attractive proposition to the discerning boy football fan, in my view. And in any case my father; my uncles; my cousins and many of my friends followed Burnley, so it was easy to fall in with them, and even watch them quite a lot, as in those days London might as well have been in New Zealand for all the chance there was of ever going there.

And the thing about Burnley fans is that they hate Blackburn Rovers, and I began to hate them, too. But I was in my heart a Charlton fan. They were my first love, and I put up with the good-natured bantering of my father, and persisted in being more concerned about Charlton's fate than Burnley's, which is why the events of a particular Saturday afternoon fell out the way they did.

I now take you back to the morning of 26 April 1958. Charlton have been down in the Second Division for one season, and are in second place, with one fixture remaining. They have 55 points. Just above them, with a better goal average, are West Ham United, also on 55. Just below these two are Blackburn Rovers on 54, and Liverpool (yes, in Division 2) on 53. As it is still 1958, teams get two points for a win and one point for a draw. Also, only two sides are promoted and relegated between the First and Second Divisions.

Liverpool's goal average means that, barring a cricket score in their home game with Barnsley (yes indeed) at Anfield, they will be denied promotion for a while yet. West Ham have to travel to Middlesbrough, but of course most of the attention is based on The Valley, where Charlton are at home to Blackburn.

I still have nightmares about the afternoon spent alone, pacing round and round the kitchen of our eighteenth century cottage not far from the Forest of Bowland; the red and cream diamond pattern lino became imprinted on my brain (I can still visualise it perfectly) as I stared at the floor and listened to the radio commentary (unusual in it not involving a Division One game) on the second half of Charlton v Blackburn.

The final score, to my disbelief and dismay, when a goalless draw would have sufficed, was Charlton 3 Blackburn 4, which meant that Blackburn vaulted over Charlton to 56 points, and gained promotion to Division 1. And it would be many years before Charlton came that close again.

Liverpool only managed a 1-1 draw with Barnsley; West Ham won comfortably 3-1 at Ayresome. And Burnley beat Newcastle 3-1 at home that day too; probably that's where my father was.

So bugger Blackburn, I repeat.

As for Alan Curbishley; I cannot improve on all the eulogies that there have been, and when the time comes that he wants or needs a top job in football, I am sure there will be one available to suit him.

And as for his replacement; I need to mull things over a bit longer; there'll be more musings before long.