Wigan 3 Charlton 2
Darren Bent (above left) scored Charlton's first goal
During the course of our fifth consecutive win at the quiz last night (this one was after tie-break questions had merely prolonged the stalemate, and the outcome finally depended on a solitary question, the first correct answer to be shouted out to secure it, and Hugh did it for us), Mush turned to me and remarked on the fact that Charlton had lost again. He is a QPR fan, I think they won this weekend. I like Mush, of course, as I do all my team-mates; they really are mates and all that that entails. So I told him the truth, and it is that I am running out of excuses.
There have been the 'bedding in', like transplanted lobelias, of new managers and a lot of new players, there have been injuries; there have been tough fixtures for the start of a season - all the biggest clubs have been played now. And Newcastle.
So away to Wigan, after four games without defeat, and the results against Man City and Bolton indicating that perhaps the Lancashire / North West jinx is broken, we were entitled to expect something; maybe a draw, at any rate. Neither I nor my fellow-bloggers and commentators expected Charlton to lose; that was right out; a draw minimum, and very possibly a win. Jerome Thomas and the two Bent boys (no relation) would be available, and Andy Reid, and Faye, and Souleymane Diawara, and Luke Young of course, and Scott Carson, who has been magnificent in keeping the goals out this past month. What could go wrong?
Yet, what did I find on returning from the supermarket? (I had to go in the afternoon as the evening was earmarked for my oldest chum's birthday celebrations. Well he's my oldest chum in Madrid, at any rate) I logged on for the half-time scores and bloody Wigan were 2-0 up.
OK, Charlton pulled one back, and that gave me hope for a little while, but then it went to 3-1 and Marcus Bent's 89th minute goal was but a consolation. Losing 3-2 looks reasonable on paper. Only, you still don't get any points for it, and Charlton are once more sole tenants of that bottom slot, even Newcastle having scraped a point against Man City.
I didn't get round to reading the accounts till the next day, my friend's birthday celebrations having gone on late into the night, and a jolly good time we all had, too. The consensus was that Wigan's first-half goals were mainly down to the fact that it was a blustery wet afternoon, and this helped the ball into the back of the net. These helpful conditions, of course, are only favourable to local sides. Just, in fact, as I said last year about the Blackburn game, which you can get to
here, so I don't have to go through it all again.
My title comes from William Shakespeare. I thought I remembered it from a school production of
Twelfth Night many years ago, but I put the above words into Google and it led me to the correct source,
King Lear. Mind you, before I reached any mention of England's, and the world's, greatest writer, I had to wade through about five pages of references to Madness and other contemporary music icons. Music does really rule everyone's lives these days. No one seems to be able to do anything unless it be to the accompaniment of heavy thumping noises and tuneless wailing. But, as Antony often says, 'don't get me started'...
The full quote is:
He that has and a little tiny wit--
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,--
Must make content with his fortunes fit,
For the rain it raineth every day.and I think there's an awful message for Charlton there, especially in the light of this morning's shock horror headlines, and perhaps for the smaller clubs everywhere.
For I had just about roughed this piece out when I went on my daily visit to the BBC Football page, to discover that Charlton have sacked
manager head coach Iain Dowie.
I think they might have given him a bit longer, but the official line is that his fierce man-management techniques have destroyed morale down at Sparrows Lane.
So once again, or at least until someone at Chelsea breaks wind unexpectedly, as one contributor on
Frankie's blog put it, Charlton are hitting the headlines.
And the usual dreary suspects, including, God help us, Glenn Hoddle, are being touted, and Billy Davies, sixties girl singer turned dour Scottish Derby County manager, who didn't get the job in the summer, is also in the frame, as they say.
But I must take advantage of the fact that here in Madrid, for the time being, the wind and the rain have ceased, and I have to do the weekly wash (from the week beginning 30 October, that is)...
So there'll be more on the Charlton managerial crisis in a day or so.