Now
we’ve got the internationals nonsense out of the way, can we get back to
serious football please? For me this will involve a Lyon Duchere game tomorrow
evening rather than a trip north to Blackburn. Having decamped to Lyon a week
ago to avoid all the hubris of the England qualification games (and of course to
see my French partner Suzanne), my own particular weekend treck (back to
Blighty) should begin at sparrow’s fart on Sunday morning, assuming the alarm
and coffee do the trick. I will have to content myself with texts updates and
tracking the game on the Beeb, with fingers crossed for a happier outcome than
Operation Ewood in another life some years ago.
Hopefully
everybody’s rested up (knocking in a few against West Ham doesn’t really count,
although for the record Suzanne is happy to hear we had another Frenchman
featuring on trial), perhaps one or more of the injured will be back. Whatever,
it really feels like the early skirmishes of the season have passed and now
it’s down to the business of ensuring we don’t get embroiled in a relegation
scrap. Five tough games (on paper) ahead before we rub salt into Doncaster’s
wounds with the replayed game (no, don’t wish to suggest that one’s any sort of
gimmee). Show a replay of the Forest game to serve as a reminder of what’s
eminently possible, if minds as well as bodies are up for it.
Actually
getting to watch the England games while in France has been a bit of a challenge,
especially if for a Friday night you are booked into an hotel up a hill in a
village outside Vaison la Romaine, one with a splendid view of Mont Ventoux but
a restaurant that at this time of year stops newcomers at eight on the dot and
which only has the basic TV channels in the room. So after traffic foul-ups and
delays getting out of Lyon, instead of a slap-up feed washed down with
something red and England on in the background, we ended up with a motorway
service station ‘salad’ each while watching France trounce Australia (albeit
with the head start of a real homer penalty for a handball; the replays showed
that the ball didn’t even touch the guy’s hand). Catching the Poland game
proved easier when back in Lyon (no ITV but enough streaming options).
Others
clearly place a much higher importance on England games than I do (if it’s a
choice between England winning the pot in Brazil and us staying up/getting
promoted I’d have no hesitation in choosing the latter). Doesn’t mean I’m not
pleased to be English, let alone in any way ashamed of the fact as the Mail
might want to suggest (truth is it’s the Mail that hates Britain, which is why
it rants so much, in a frustrated desire to turn the clock back 50 years to
some supposed idyll that never existed).
I’m
an Addick, a Londoner, English, British and European (I’d go on to suggest a
global citizen, but then you kind of lose meaning if you’re defining yourself)
and happy to be all of those things. I’m just not much of a flag-waver and
cannot help but laugh at the suggestion of ‘English/British values’ (like
‘Christian values’ they don’t exist, they are just a set of labels for fairly
basic habits and customs that are always positive and in essence exist anywhere
you go). Seems that when Wiltshire was pressed on the matter his overriding
characteristic of an English player is the ability to tackle hard, which led to
the absurdity of Wenger being obliged to defend one of his players in public
having complained for years of being stripped of decent players as a result of
‘tough tackling’. Then you had Rednapp making the daftest comment I heard,
along the lines of ‘if they’re born in Britain it doesn’t matter where they
come from’ (well Harry, if they were born in Britain that’s exactly where they
came from).
I
guess I’m just wary (to put it mildly) of any organisation, political or
otherwise, the rationale for which is to emphasise division and separateness
(ie ‘all our ills are their fault’) rather than focus on the far greater
commonality of goals and aspirations and how to try achieve them. Tomorrow
afternoon, thousands of people will flock to Blackburn’s ground and for a short
period of time two different groups will want different outcomes. Once the
game’s over, they will go their separate ways and then do pretty similar things
(there’s a cheap joke in there somewhere about the habits of northerners but
we’ll let it pass).
Which
to try to get back to Charlton might provide some clue as to why Sir Chris gets
the support that he does from the majority of Addicks (myself included). We
loved him as a player, not because of where he came from (he did have a skeleton
in his own past after all) but because he displayed consistently what are
reasonable to view as positive and endearing characteristics. The goodwill generated
has carried over to a strong desire to see him succeed as a manager, a feeling
only intensified by what he has actually done since taking over, not just
overseeing promotion but crafting a team that also displays positive
characteristics (most of the time, except when we play Millwall it seems).
Things can always change; of course there may come a time when the players don’t
respond well to him and his staff, when the results and situation require a
different approach and a new leader. But as others have said as things stand the
far greater danger is that another club will come knocking on his door.
Those
that might support a change of manager I’m sure don’t do so from any sense of mischief,
or because they are any more or less of an Addick than me. Just amounts to a
difference of opinion over what is best for the club we support, which is the
overriding shared desire. Again, far more unites us than divides us. Blimey,
even when I feel disgruntled about the owners I have to remember that in
addition to them writing the cheques they did after all choose Sir Chris.
So,
all that’s required for tomorrow is the car to work (so that we can get to the
Croix Rousse market and back), the corkscrew not to break (I have a rather nice
Barolo lined up for the afternoon), Suzanne’s new cooker to work properly (so
that she can concentrate on rustling up something to accompany the wine), three
points to come our way, and then victory for Duchere (they’ve made a decent
start to the season, lying third with four wins, two draws and a defeat from
the first seven; the match is at home to Jura Sud, while tonight the two teams
above Duchere – Yzeure and Moulins – play each other, so there’s scope for ground
to be made up). All those fall into place and Sunday can look after itself.
2 comments:
You haven't mentioned the mood/despair in France after their having to go into the play-offs, having come second best to my local outfit. Is it all doom and gloom?
Iberian Valley
IV, this is France. All is always doom and gloom (until someone tells them they have actually won). I don't think the French from the beginning thought they had a bat in hell's chance of coming out above Spain. There is something missing from the French psyche. If they are 0-2 down with 10 minutes left Suzanne will shrug and say 'OK, it is over'. We would blindly believe we have a chance if it's 0-3 with five minutes left.
Is there any thought in Spain that the national team may have peaked?
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