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Post by Budleigh on Sept 13, 2009 19:26:24 GMT
I have a mistress!
There. I’ve finally ‘come out’ and announced it…
I only get to see her on the occasional weekend, or the odd weekday night, and nearly only when I’m up ‘in-town’. But now I feel the need to get it out in the open because for the first time in some years she’s going to come down to Devon, and we shall be spending a few, hopefully, blissful hours together. As to be expected from a mistress she always wears something red when I visit, but there are times, especially if we meet away from her area, when she’ll put on something of a different hue. I like this, it adds ‘spice’ to the relationship.
We first met when I lived in London back in the early eighties. She was down on her luck, indeed at the time she had lost her home and was living in rented digs, and I took pity on her. To be honest our first meeting was quite romantic and at first, and by chance, had more to do with her former residence.
I have to confess that on taking a position in London, and spending the first year in Chiswick before moving ‘south-of-the-river’, I had barely given a thought to the gentle, quiet sweetheart I’d left behind in Devon. Indeed having got caught up in the ‘London whirl’ I barely came back to see her, just having the occasional meeting when she visited my part of the world. Was it this distance from my first love that led me to wander?
As it was, one Sunday morning I took a drive to familiarise myself with my new south London surroundings and, coming over a hill near Blackheath Common, I saw this derelict place. I was intrigued, it just seemed so familiar in the same way that déjà-vu can quite suddenly shoot into one’s sub-conscious, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I had an hour or two to spare before I was due for lunch at a friend’s place so parked my car and walked up to the pair of wrought iron gates, reminiscent of those seen guarding the mansion in the Addams Family, and peered through. The paint on the brick walls was faded and peeling, the building inside boarded up and the grass overgrown, with weeds pushing through the concrete path. I’d always had a fascination for anything old and derelict and so seeing a gap in the fence, slid through. I was sure there would be nobody about as the place had an air of complete desolation.
But I was wrong. As I looked through the cracked glass of a partially bordered up window I heard a voice close by, ‘You shouldn’t be here, this is my home, my place. I couldn’t afford to stay so they threw me out. No consideration for the family history. None at all. I rarely come back, it’s too depressing’.
For a moment I stood transfixed, the gentle voice echoing around my head, then slowly moved to were it had come from. I turned a corner and leant forward onto the rusting fence that surrounded the vast, overgrown garden, and was immediately smitten but what now stood in front of me. I stayed for some time, just making my acquaintance, before reluctantly I bade farewell and returned to my car.
I spent the rest of the day in some excitement, barely able to hide this feeling creeping about inside as I sat at the lunch table, those around me talking what sounded like complete gibberish, my mind elsewhere, back at that mornings encounter. I knew I had to persue the matter so as soon as it was respectively possible I excused myself from the table and went into my friend’s study where I sought out a local directory. There I found what I was seeking, her new address and details.
The following morning it was with some trepidation I made the phone call and renewed my acquaintance from the previous day and before I knew it had arranged to meet the following weekend at her new home some miles away…
Yes, I’d booked a ticket at Selhurst Park for Charlton Athletic against Newcastle…..
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Post by Budleigh on Sept 13, 2009 19:28:40 GMT
And here are the first two pictures of the Valley that I took that fateful Sunday morning.... And for those with an interest I shall be updating this thread with more pictures and stories of my 'naughty years' over the next few days, and there's some intriguing revelations, promise!  |
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Dave
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Post by Dave on Sept 13, 2009 19:34:26 GMT
Loved the first post and am really looking forward to seeing this thread added too. You don't have a pen name and write for Mills and Boom do you  |
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merse
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Post by merse on Sept 14, 2009 2:46:16 GMT
 I can remember making the same visit to the same "mistress" c1985 Leigh. The same dog eared fallen grace, the destitution; onset of dementure and cry for a little attention......................ah, I remember it all. You don't think that through our excitement we did anything that would require a paternity test do you? 
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Post by Budleigh on Sept 14, 2009 21:54:52 GMT
A rather odd montage of the Valley, on that same day, taken from the flats behind the Jimmy Seed stand. Actually built on land sold by the club on which the original high terracing at that end stood...  |
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Post by Budleigh on Sept 16, 2009 11:54:58 GMT
In my first post I mention a feeling of deja-vu when I first saw the Valley, the reason being I had a football annual from the early seventies with the following picture in it, but had completely forgotton. I then remembered how this picture fascinated me...  |
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Post by Budleigh on Sept 16, 2009 12:17:35 GMT
1987 and I was quite fascinated by the Valley. This place was on my doorstep yet seemed in a different world. Unless you had visited it at this time it is very difficult to describe quite what it was like… The Valley was massive, at one time the biggest club ground in the country with a capacity of over 76,000, and the structure left abandoned wasn’t much different to that which had been capable of holding so many spectators. It also sat right in the middle of a residential area with normal terraced housing surrounding it. To turn the corner of Floyd Road and suddenly see this over-powering stadium was quite unbelievable. Indeed it is still the same today, if not more so with its huge, towering red and steel stands.    But it was this unexpected sight, coupled with the dereliction, that first hit me when I saw it. Then to walk inside and see this eerily quiet place, to stand there quite alone in complete solitude, not a sound entering the bowl was beyond description. To look up and around at the never ending crumbling terracing, that seemed to reach for the heavens, was beyond words. The only other time I have had the same feeling, the same impact, was coming over the Palatine Hill in Rome and suddenly having the Roman Forum stretch out in front of me for the first time. It also had the same feeling of faded grandeur, of a once-mighty area now abandoned. I would go back many times. Sometimes when I went to fetch my Sunday paper I’d go in and climb the East terrace and sit there, reading in the sunshine with my take-away coffee as if it was my own place. I started to watch and follow Charlton at Selhurst, but not so much for the team, although I became a ‘supporter’ of them as my local team during my time in London, but more for the Valley. For the battle to return, to see football in this wonderful arena again. It became my aim to watch Charlton Athletic once again take to the pitch at the Valley in a competitive match. Did I wish I’d seen the last match there against Stoke in September 1985, Robert Lee scoring the last goal in a 2-0 win? No, if I had then I wouldn’t have experienced the magic, the romance of that first visit. I mentioned my visit to the ground to my Grandfather-in-law late that Summer and he in turn told me his story. A born-and-bred Greenwich man he told me how he had watched Charlton at the Valley from a young age and was dismayed when, back in 1931, the club also decided to leave the Valley, this time to move to Catford, and how the supporters fought for their return (I have another thread posted on here telling the story of the Mount, the ground he was describing and how I found its location). I took inspiration from his tales. I joined the action group, I bought the fanzine, ‘Back to the Valley’, and off we went! The campaign started in March 1988 when a group of fans decided to boycott the game at Selhurst against Oxford, but at the last minute rumour grew that Roger Alwen and fellow director Michael Norris had bought back the ground. The story got into the national papers and the ball was well and truly rolling. But they refused to say whether the club would return there, even stating that a sight on the Blackwell peninsula had been earmarked and given the go-ahead by the council (this site was to become the Millennium Dome). The directors then went quiet and it was assumed that there was no action whereas in reality behind the scenes Roger Alwen, now Chairman, and his fellow directors were working on plans to return to the Valley instead of just to the area. It was on the 23rd March 1989 that Alwen announced at a packed town hall meeting that with the recent acquisition of the Valley, and after meetings with the Greenwich Borough planners, Charlton Athletic….. ‘were going home’. The place erupted! I even went along on that joyful drizzly Sunday in April to join player Steve Gritt and chairman Roger Alwen along with 2,000 fellow campaigners to clear the terracing of weeds, and start the demolition of the stand. Of course this was a feel-good exercise on the club’s behalf, I few good men and a bulldozer could’ve done the job in half the time. Roger Alwen and his wife join inPlayer Steve Gritt and his daughter watch the clear up And at the end the crowd listen to a speech from the chairmanBut there was a sting in the tail. The club put in planning permission to re-build the Valley, and were turned down despite the previous reassurances. The residents complained that match days would be too noisy and disruptive, that parking would be a problem. The club argued that this had been the case for many years and nothing new was being added, the ground was just being re-commissioned. The council refused to budge and the supporters formed ‘The Valley Party’ to fight the local elections. Over 14,800 locals voted for the party and, although no seat was won, the fall-out saw the resignation of the chief planning officer, and talks were started afresh with the authorities. In the Summer of 1990 the new plans were passed and the ground development started. It was all piece-meal at the beginning, and indeed was for quite a few years, with temporary stands and the East terrace unused. But on Thursday, November 27th 1992 the players had their first training session back at the Valley. The story of this fight is a long and interesting one, too drawn out for posting on a forum, but anyone interested should read ‘Battle for the Valley’ by Rick Everitt. By this time I had returned to Devon and missed the first game back at the Valley against Portsmouth, and although I still had affection for Charlton Athletic, and would often return to the Valley to watch them, the real romance had died once the aim was achieved.  |
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merse
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Post by merse on Sept 16, 2009 15:50:28 GMT
Any Charlton Athletic supporter surveying this magnificent stadium and with memories of the very positive activity of first clearing the old derelict ground and then forming their own single issue part ( The Valley Party) to secure the return of the club to their spiritual home can and should be an immensly proud person today. What is tragic is that the club has sunk to it's lowest ever status in half a century and plays currently in League 1. Charlton are an excellent example of a community club and their youth and development progrgamme, their Academy and opportunities given to their own home produced talent to achieve full professional status in the game is second to none. The one regret I have of the club's progress and development over the past few years is the demise of those iconic and huge white floodlight towers with the overhanging ("Scottish Style") head frames that used to make the ground so easy to pick out from the Blackwall Tunnel exit and the areas accross the Thames around North Woolwich and Silvertown.....................and what about the atmospheric Antigalican Pub on the corner of Woolwich Road and Charlton Church Lane. It must be one of the few boozers allowed to carry a "racist" name, for Antigalican means "French Hating" and recalls memories of the Napoleonic Wars (when it was quite in order to claim to be an Anti Galic) and their significance to the nearby Woolwich Arsenal and Naval yards and Greenwich beyond.
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Post by Budleigh on Sept 16, 2009 18:19:16 GMT
There you go! A good full close up of the said white floodlights, overlooking the Valley and on to the Thames and beyond. This was the first day back at training as mentioned above. But if you thought they were impressive, how about the floodlights that were there before... This was taken on that first day I visited from the top of the East terrace... magnificent! |
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Dave
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Post by Dave on Sept 16, 2009 18:24:55 GMT
 what a top thread you have produced Leigh. so much work and effort put into it and what a great read as well. Looks like I'm going to have to consider a thread of the year award as well.  Thanks Dave
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Post by Budleigh on Sept 16, 2009 21:11:14 GMT
Pure luck I had the pics of the floodlights at hand... it's almost a case of some sort of telepathy with Merse!!
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merse
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Post by merse on Sept 17, 2009 2:58:30 GMT
Pure luck I had the pics of the floodlights at hand... it's almost a case of some sort of telepathy with Merse!! I love quirky pictures like that Leigh, but must admit to being a tad disappointed that it was a pair of magpies (one for sorrow, one for joy) sitting up there rather than a couple of robins. Just an observation, but in the second picture where the hell is the third lamp from the left in the top row pointng? I reckon it's picking out Mrs Goggins daughter Tracey in her bedroom window in the adjacent tower block! The Charlton fans who have just come on board might think they are struggling now, but for me that came when I saw them drawing "at home" withCambridge United (including future Gulls Mark Sale and Gary Clayton) at the Boleyn with roughly 6-8,000 rattling around in there. The match was dire and John Beck's tactics were at their notorious worst and the point at which I walked out was when the Cambridge left back hit an eighty yard ball from near his own corner of the pitch into "space" down by the opposition's left back position. So disgusted were the Charlton players that one of them sat on the ball for what seemed an eternity until one of the opposition seemed to get the permission of Beck to go anywhere near him whilst the crowd booed and jeered.........................there was twenty minutes still to play but I went home and it wasn't long after that Sale quit the game and became a policeman in Uttoxeter. |
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Post by harrogategull on Sept 17, 2009 9:54:27 GMT
[/quote]
I love quirky pictures like that Leigh, but must admit to being a tad disappointed that it was a pair of magpies (one for sorrow, one for joy) sitting up there rather than a couple of robins. [/quote]
It goes One for Sorrow, two for Joy! etc.... so maybe it was an omen!
Fantastic thread and info again guys, love it!
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Mark L
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Post by Mark L on Sept 17, 2009 10:14:08 GMT
This is certainly one of the most inspirational threads I've ever read on here. Indeed, I'm so inspired I've decided to go along to watch them play the scummers on Saturday week. I had no idea about the history behind the club before this, fascinating stuff.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Sept 19, 2009 7:57:02 GMT
Although I once saw a Charlton "home" match at Selhurst Park, my only visits to the Valley were during the 1980/81 season when I was briefly living in North Kent. Passing the Valley recently on the day of our game at Dagenham, it was almost as if I'd never been there. I must go back sometime. On my visits I stood on the old East Terrace. I've just had a quick scan of Simon Inglis's grounds book and he relates the tale of Charlton having problems with that terrace because a sewer ran directly beneath it. That led to all sorts of subsidence difficulties. Here's a picture from an Aerofilms "then and now" book:  Also more pictures of the late 1980s: www.bbc.co.uk/london/content/image_galleries/valley_old_gallery.shtml?16 |
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