What on earth is going on at Charlton? I’ve always been quite reassured by the fact that since our triumphant return to The Valley in 1992 we’ve been possibly the least interesting club in British football. Yet the last few weeks have seen us sit anchored to the foot of the table and sack the manager after fifteen games in charge. We’re starting to appear in the papers. People are starting to have, like, opinons about us. What’s going on?
In all honesty, watching Charlton has been pretty insufferably dull since about 2002. The football’s been uninspiring, we’ve hung around the middle of the table not really bothering anyone and occasionally raising a quizzical eyebrow in the direction of Europe. If we did ever get into Europe, you can bet your bottom dollar we’d go out at the first attempt to Kryvyl Sovetov or somesuch.
This season however is threatening to become interesting, and it’s most unsettling. There might be something to play for at the end of the season, even if it is just Premiership survival. Still, at least we’ve appointed an uninteresting manager – he even has an uninteresting name in Les Reed. Now, don’t get me wrong, Les is a brilliant coach and was the driving force behind our historic play-off triumph in 1998, but he’s not exactly tabloid fodder. And that, for the moment, is just how I like it.
I’m hoping to do some tinkering with the website in the run up to Christmas. For one thing the Elvis book needs adding, and there are a few things that want changing. On the site I mean, not the obvious things like my hairstyle, physique, face and entire wardrobe.
I’ve been keeping busy however. Indeed, I’ve been what you could almost describe as creative of late, coming up with lots of ideas for books, radio series and a few bits of TV stuff. Can’t say too much at the moment, but from fairly early in the new year the nasal Connelly whine will be a regular fixture on Radio 4, assuming all goes to plan. Which it probably won’t. But such is life.
I’ve got a few things in the diary in the next few weeks – speaking in London and the Channel Islands for example, not to mention the customary wassailing in London hostelries. In fact I’m off to the theatre this evening to see Frost Nixon, which is, I’m told, the hottest ticket in town.
Be good, play nicely.