Now I know that most of you will consider Johnnie Jackson’s excellent goal yesterday as the turning point , but I beg to differ .
The real turning point came when , bouyed by 2 pints of pre-match strong lager, I managed single handedly ( well with the support of me homeboys around me) to get that number 18 booked for nothing more dangerous than a ‘coming together’ .
Now I’m not that great on detail ,so I can’t even tell you who the coming together was with . It might have been Harriot , but no matter , the important thing was how it transformed me into Bill Bixby ( that incredible green thing with the torn shirt)
Enraged by our rather calamitous showing to that point , I leapt to my feet and screamed , shouted and stamped about this injustice until referee Kettle could stand no more- I left him with no choice , a middle aged man’s rage had to be quenched and No 18 went into the book ………………………….the rest is history .
It was only on the trip home that my son turned to me and said ‘ Dad I think you won that game for us with that booking ‘ that I realised the full extent of my role .
Even Doogie Freedman recognised it in his after match comments when he made veiled barbs that the crowd got behind Charlton – come on Doogie , I think you & I both know what really happened from Block F in the East Stand came a tremendous and sustained roaring that no Kettle could resist.
Strange that my son complimented me – I wonder what he wants.