About Kevin Nolan

Charlton 0 Leeds United 0.

As the grim reality of yet another relegation battle begins yet again to drain Charlton and their hollow-cheeked fans, it’s fair to question how long they can sustain the energy-sapping consequences of constant struggle against relegation. Since Chris Powell’s triumphant squad barnstormed out of League One, they have wallowed at the wrong end of the Championship table, improbably digging themselves out of trouble under no fewer than four interchangeable managers dredged from Roland Duchatelet’s Belgian empire. There have been few signs that they belong in the division, much less make any impact in it. Their gaze is constantly directed downward, the business at the top end of the league of no real concern to them. And still the owners allude to some mysterious plan to reach the Premiership.

Saturday’s grudgingly won point wrested from hardbitten Leeds at least had the virtue of lifting the Addicks out of the dreaded bottom three, where they will remain at least until Tuesday evening, when wretched Bolton Wanderers, a club in even worse shape than themselves, visit The Valley. Only a fool would predict a home banker.

After surviving a late battering from Leeds, during which Tom Adeyemi missed the definitive “sitter”, legweary Charlton staggered through the finishing tape and will justifiably regard this result as a point gained rather than two squandered. For that small mercy they had United’s poor finishing and Stephen Henderson’s dependable goalkeeping to thank.

Hard on the heels of the encouraging, if ultimately doomed performance at Brighton a week previously, incumbent janitor Karel Fraeye was boosted by the quick recovery from worrying knocks of Harry Lennon, Johann Berg Gudmundsson and Jordan Cousins, not to mention the welcome return from injury of Johnnie Jackson. Although steady centre back Patrick Bauer was suspended, a surprisingly healthy side lined up to face shambolic but dangerous Leeds. They began brightly.

After Adeyemi’s quickfire fouls on Jackson and Gudmundsson announced the visitors’ pragmatic intentions, Ricardo Vaz Te’s clever pass cut them open and sent Reza Goochannejhad racing to the left byline. From a diminishing angle, the Iranian striker pulled a low shot across Marco Sivestri but, by inches, wide of the far post. A squared ball to unmarked Ademola Lookman might have been a better option. The youngster wasn’t above making the point.

Continuing to make the early running, Jackson set up Goochannejhad to fire over the bar before the unquenchable Lookman stepped inside on to Gudmundsson’s pass and brought Silvestro plunging to his left to make a smart save. Charlton’s brief period of superiority was punctuated only by Alex Mowatt’s free kick, which produced Henderson’s first save of a gloomy afternoon.

The Addicks were holding their own, their parity protected by the mess made by Chris Wood of converting Charlie Taylor’s devastating cutback, followed by the the poor marksmanship of Lewis Cook, who seized on Goochannejhad’s error but blasted wastefully into the packed away end.

Early second half bookings for Cousins and Goochannejhad brought swift reprisal from the visitors, who countered with five cautions of their own before the final whistle. It was never a blatantly violent game but United’s ruthlessness was exemplified by Guiseppe Bellusci’s “one for the team” chopping down of Lookman, whose electric burst through the heart of their defence was coldbloodedly truncated. Vaz Te’s resultant free kick was capably fielded by Silvestri, proving that crime does indeed pay.

An awkwardly prodded effort by Vaz Te from the excellent Chris Solly’s low centre tested Silvestri’s reactions but brought to an end the Addicks as an attacking force. By now running on empty, they spent the final 20 minutes soaking up steady pressure in their bid to hang on to a precious point.

Wood was their unwitting ally, his ample frame getting in the way of Cook’s goalbound shot, after Stuart Dallas’ tricky wingplay set up the gifted young midfielder’s chance. Clearly a devotee of his manager Steve Evans’s dietary advice, Wood seems to have added a few pounds. It’s tempting to remark that he’s packing extra timber but you can’t go around making cracks like that.

Soon after Cook’s misfortune, Wood and substitute Jordan Botaka carved out Adeyemi’s opening. Sent through to confront a desperately advancing Henderson, he lifted the ball over the keeper’s left hand but succeeded only in clipping the outside of the right post. It was miss of heroic proportions. The Addicks weren’t quite there yet, of course, and Henderson’s outstanding save was required to keep out Taylor’s raking drive. But make it they did and climbed wearily out of the relegation quagmire. It can’t go on like this. But that’s exactly what it does. It goes on like this. Season after season, it bloody well goes on like this. Somebody -anybody – make it stop.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly, Diarra, Lennon, Holmes-Dennis, Cousins, Jackson (Makienok 81), Gudmundsson, Goochannejhad (Ba 81), Lookman, Vaz Te (Ahearne-Grant 88). Not used: Pope, Sarr, Fox, Charles-Cook. Booked: Cousins, Goochannejhad, Ba.

Leeds: Silvestri, Wootton (Berardi 48, Byram 90), Bellusci, Cooper, Taylor, Bridcutt, Dallas, Cook, Adeyemi, Mowatt (Botaka 64), Wood. Not used: Peacock-Farrell, Antenucci, Murphy, Doukara. Booked: Wootton, Mowatt, Bridcutt, Bellusci, Cook.

Referee: Andy Davies.

Att: 15,867.

Brighton 3 (Wilson 50, Zamora 83, Hemed 85), Charlton 2 (Lookman 2, Goochhannejhad 5).

This cruel defeat which acted as a corkscrew through their heart sent Charlton limping back from the South Coast licking their many wounds and unrewarded for a stirring rearguard action. They had come within seven minutes of a famous victory against considerable odds but were eventually ground down by Chris Hughton’s talented Seagulls, who chipped skilfully away at them until they wearily succumbed.

The ongoing cost of losing in such desperately disappointing circumstances will be assessed on Monday at Sparrows Lane, where the wounded, walking or otherwise, will report for treatment. Among them will be unlucky 20 year-old Academy graduate Harry Lennon, whose first start of the season was curtailed in a sickening head collision with Solly March before the half hour. A dazed Lennon was led off, to be replaced by Naby Sarr, with a bandaged March surviving to torment the Addicks with a virtuoso performance of right wing play. Also departing early was a clearly stricken Johann Berg Gudmundsson, while Stephen Henderson and Jordan Cousins went the distance despite hobbling painfully. Patrick Bauer’s dismissal on the hour, of which more later, completed a picture of disintegration.

Their belated meltdown was a particularly savage end to Charlton’s see-saw afternoon which had started so promisingly. Set up by Karel Fraeye in a bold 4-3-3 formation, (or so it seemed to your tactically innocent reporter), the quicksilver trio of 18 year-old rookie Ademola Lookman, Ricardo Vaz Te and Reza Goochannejhad up front were initially too much for Albion. Inspired by Lookman, who readily answered right back Bruno Saltor’s nudges and kicks with nudges and kicks of his own, all three of them combined to fire the visitors in front within two minutes. Vaz Te’s clever lay-off near the centre circle sent Goochannejhad sprinting into space before passing to Lookman on his left. Moving outside Saltor, the uninhibited youngster seemed trapped on the left byline but made light of the unpromising angle by lashing a ferocious drive through a narrowing gap into the far top corner.

Caught out by the classic counter, Brighton were suckerpunched again three minutes later. Lookman led the break out from an abortive free kick and though he was superbly tackled by Saltor, Gudmundsson picked up the pieces and fed Goochannejhad to the right of David Stockdale’s goal. Stepping back on to his left foot, the rehabilitated Iranian international found the centre of the net with a crisp rising drive.

Stunned by the sheer impudence of their struggling visitors, the Seagulls were briefly easy pickings and only the excellence of Stockdale prevented them from capsizing completely. The first of three key saves saw him save Goochannejhad’s bulleted header at full length after Vaz Te’s dinked cross set up the chance. He quickly followed up by blocking Gudmundsson’s close range effort with Vaz Te again the provider, then before the interval, his knees came resourcefully to Albion’s rescue as Lookman shot instinctively.

With their puny first half replies amounting to no more than Bobby Zamora’s off-target header and Dale Stephens’ wildly skied drive, the South Coasters could only improve. It became imperative that they were held at bay beyond the hour, instead of which the Addicks fatally conceded within five minutes of resumption. Declining to clear their lines agriculturally in favour of cerebral interpassing, Alou Diarra and Bauer were neatly pickpocketed by Manchester United loanee James Wilson, who sauntered through to score with insouciant ease.

Following Henderson’s magnificent save from March’s long distance blockbuster, on the hour came Bauer’s critical dismissal. Caught on the wrong side of Zamora who had an umistakeable route to goal, the centre back deliberately clipped his heels and suffered the inevitability of an straight red card. Too often swayed by the home crowd’s baying, referee Keith Stroud got this one right.

The deficit-halving goal and Bauer’s rush of blood intensified the pressure on the visitors. Gudmundsson’s enforced departure preceded a nasty foul by Stephens which incapacitated the hardworking Cousins. The former Addick’s metronomic passing, chiefly to feed March, was more acceptable and began to wear down his former colleagues.

March was irrepressible and with time running out on Albion, popped up near the left byline to deliver a chaos-inducing low ball into the six-yard area. A hectic scramble, during which Henderson saved at close range, was resolved by Zamora, who fired the equaliser through an untidy mess.

As if to make the point that Brighton’s resources run more deeply than their victims, two late substitutes collaborated in Albion’s by now inevitable winner. Rajiv van La Parra crossed accurately from the right for Tomer Hemed to head powerfully at goal. Reacting intuitively, Henderson managed a right-hand save but was left helpless as the ball spiralled high into the air before backspinning almost malevolently over the goalline.

With the stuffing knocked completely out of them, Charlton resembled an exhausted fighter finally sapped by body shots and, though fully conscious, counted out on his knees in the last round. They had given everything and it wasn’t enough. The boxing analogy only works, by the way, if you get past that pair of mugs masquerading as the best heavyweights on the planet last week in Germany. On second thought, they might actually BE the best heavyweights on the planet. Now there’s a really grisly thought.

Brighton: Stockdale, Saltor, Greer, Dunk, Calderon (van La Parra 83), March, Stephens, Kayal, Murphy (Hemed 73), Wilson (Chicksen 90), Zamora. Not used: Maenpaa, Huenemeier, Manu, Ince. Booked: Calderon, March, Stephens.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly, Bauer, Lennon (Sarr 29) Fox, Cousins, Diarra, Gudmundsson (Holmes-Dennis 75), Goochannejhad, Lookman, Vaz Te (Ba 85). Not used: Makienok, Ahearne-Grant, Charles, Pope. Booked: Solly, Fox, Cousins, Henderson. Sent off: Bauer

Referee: Keith Stroud.

Att: 24,587 (1206 visiting).

Birmingham City 0 Charlton 1 (Jackson 61).

After the Lord Mayor’s Show there followed…another Lord Mayor’s Show. Not a dustcart in sight yet. And Birmingham City suffered the same fate as Sheffield Wednesday a fortnight ago, beaten by a revitalised Charlton side bearing no resemblance to the tattered outfit that surrendered so meekly at home to the ordinary likes of Preston and Brentford, then even more shamefully to mediocre MK Dons in the football wasteland of Milton Keynes.

You hardly need telling that the hero yet again was Johnnie Jackson, Charlton’s captain courageous and scorer of nothing but vital goals. His 50th strike for the club was timed perfectly to knock the stuffing out of City, who mustered 21 attempts on goal, 8 of them on target, but managed nothing quite so lethal as Jackson’s unstoppable 61st minute header.

The skipper’s matchwinner was created for him by two bright young things at opposite ends of their career spectrums, deputy right back Tareiq Holmes-Dennis, in only his second start, colluding with full debutant Ademola Lookman (18) in ripping the home defence to shreds. Lookman’s cute pass was delayed long enough for Holmes-Dennis to burst past outmanouevred left back Jonathan Grounds into a vacated right flank. The 20 year-old’s glorious cross, delivered with his supposedly weaker right foot, was attacked by Jackson, who arrived in the penalty area, as so often he does, in precise synchronicity with his supplier. Helpless goalkeeper Tomasz Kuszczak’s only part in the process was to fish the powerful downward header out of his net. His destroyed defensive colleagues were reduced to gape-jawed disarray.

The superlatives available to describe Jackson are beginning to run out. Had Guy Luzon trusted him, he might still be hanging on to his job; if Karel Fraeye achieves nothing else, his reinstatement of the veteran who, after all, is only 33 years-old, deserves mention. Unlike Luzon, Fraeye hasn’t bought into that nonsense about “knackered legs” or “lack of pace”. With the irrepressible Holmes-Dennis and Lookman whippet-fast and the indefatigable Jordan Cousins, no slouch himself, undertaking the nuts-and-bolts work alongside him, Jackson sat and waited like a predatory cat among complacent pigeons. For him, it’s about marrying timing with strike power. His numerous headed goals are proof that he gets the blend right.

One year Jackson’s senior, meanwhile, much-decorated Frenchman Alou Diarra also seems a long way from hanging them up. At St.Andrews, his contribution was immense in front of the excellent Patrick Bauer and improving Naby Sarr. Destroying and creating with equal efficiency, he chewed up Gary Rowett’s men and spat them out. There’s a wealth of know-how in those apparently ageing limbs. A masterful signing.

Doing his bit at the back was Stephen Henderson, who began a busy afternoon with a smart save from Jacques Maghoma, reacted brilliantly to keep out Jon Toral’s point-blank certainty and outsmarted Nicolai Brock-Madsen in their one-on-one confrontation after Birmingham’s Danish debutant was put through by David Davis’ defence-splitting pass. From Henderson’s dependability to Lookman’s effervescence up front, there was a bright buoyancy about the Addicks, who richly deserved this success.

After Maghoma’s effort, the early exchanges were even. Momentary hesitation allowed Toral a chance, which was blasted wastefully over the bar before Johann Berg Gudmundsson’s free kick warmed Kuszczak’s hands. With the Addicks briefly on top, an opening carved out by Simon Makienok was blasted into the sidenet by Lookman, then the quick feet of Holmes-Dennis carried him past three struggling defenders to shoot low for the bottom right corner but Kuszczak’s fine save denied him. Morgan Fox’s brave block foiled the persistent Demerai Gray before the tricky wide man’s mazy dribble set up Toral who, from eight yards, couldn’t beat the electric reflexes of Henderson. The big Dubliner followed with his outfielder’s tackle on Brock-Madsen, then Lookman ended the first half by shooting narrowly too high.

Brum’s best hopes lay with Gray, who was handing Fox a torrid examination. Skipping past the left back, he drew a magnificent save from Henderson, who was unquestionably relieved to wave fellow-Irishman Stephen Gleeson’s piledriver on its way narrowly off target. By the time Maghoma curled a clever drive only just wide, Charlton were coming under the cosh. At which critical stage, Jackson stepped up to the mark. As he regularly tends to do.

Shaken by the reverse, City wavered. Makienok headed Gudmundsson’s centre over the bar prior to another surging run by Holmes-Dennis which saw substitute Ricardo Vaz Te fail by inches to make contact with the cross. Prompted by Bauer, Gudmundsson’s crisp drive tested Kuszczak before the Addicks survived their biggest scare of an encouraging trip to the Second City. With Grounds poised to nod a drifting cross past Henderson from no more than three yards, up popped the unquenchable Holmes-Dennis to smuggle the ball behind for a fruitless left wing corner. They say that “youth and age will never agree”. Holmes-Dennis and Jackson provide the lie to that old chestnut. They’re getting along just fine.

Birmingham: Kuszczak, Caddis, Morrison, Spector, Grounds, Gray, Maghoma (Brown 72), Davis (Solomon-Otabor 72), Gleeson, Toral, Brock-Madsen. Not used: Legzdins, Earley, Kieftenbeld, Shinnie, Lowry.

Charlton: Henderson. Holmes-Dennis, Bauer, Sarr, Fox, Gudmundsson (Ghoochannejhad 90), Cousins, Diarra, Jackson, Makienok (Ahearne-Grant 90), Lookman (Vaz Te 62). Not used: Pope, Bergdich, Charles-Cook, Lennon.

Referee: Darren Drysdale.

Att: 16,514 (650 Charlton).

Charlton 3 (Jackson 26, Makienok 44, Ghoochannejhad 55) Sheffield Wednesday 1 (Forestieri 74).

Magnificently turning current form on its head, Charlton made a stand and stopped the rot against Sheffield Wednesday at a euphoric Valley. Without a win in 11 previous league games and unable to score in the last five of those fixtures, the Addicks seemed easy pickings for Wednesday, unbeaten themselves in 11 games. A potentially humiliating home defeat was the only logical outcome.

The reality was starkly different. The Owls were comprehensively thrashed by a side unrecognisable from the wretches jeered off the field all too often recently as “not fit to wear the shirt.” From the first whistle, the visitors were swept aside by the obvious hunger and sheer intensity of their rampant opponents. They never stood a chance. So fair play to Charlton. This wonderful win just might turn their season around. But caution is advised. After all, I won’t be the first to link swallows and summer.

In the short term though, a tip of the hat is due their beleaguered interim boss Karel Fraeya, who astutely set them up in an attacking formation and temporarily at least removed the fear-filled shackles, which have restricted imagination and enterprise. Deprived of the injured Jordan Cousins, he moved Alou Diarra into central midfield, trusting Naby Sarr to plug the gap at centre back. Chief playmaker Johann Berg Gudmundsson was switched from a touchline-hugging role on the right into that mythical hole behind strikers Reza Ghoochannejhad and Simon Makienok. He was rewarded by tremendous performances from both re-deployed players.

Diarra, with El-Hadji Ba more than useful at his elbow, destroyed and built with equal expertise while Gudmundsson, seeing far more of the ball than usual, tore holes in Wednesday’s defence and prompted Ghoochannejhad and Makienok as they combined to torment the South Yorkshiremen into distraction. The fluent passing and movement made a mockery of the sterile drudgery of recent weeks.

Fraeya was even able to cope with the loss of the dependable, uncomplaining Chris Solly to a knee injury midway through the first half (incidentally, the small but growing band of Solly scapegoaters are invited to do one). His young deputy Tareiq Holmes-Dennis, by trade a left back, stepped up admirably, even finding time near the end to turn poor Barry Bannan pretzel-shaped near the corner flag and unable to continue. It was that kind of joyous day for Charlton.

Sharply out of the blocks, the Addicks quickly showed their intent. The first chance was created by Ba, who twisted clear on the right byline before crossing for Makienok, under key pressure from Tom Lees, to head wide. Sam Hutchinson showed similar resolve to smother Gudmundsson’s effort, on his weaker right foot, as Johnnie Jackson’s pass played the schemer into the penalty area. But the persistent Londoners were not to be denied long.

Typically and predictably, it was Jackson who made the breakthrough with a goal he really needs to patent. Barrelling through Wednesday’s penalty area, he left a helpless marker sprawling in his wake as he timed Gudmundsson’s outswinging corner and headed powerfully into the net. As usual, the skipper’s 49th intervention for Charlton was crucial. He doesn’t do meaningless goals.

After Gudmundsson went close with a searing half-volley on the turn, then on his right foot swinger sliced horribly wide, the attacking midfielder was instrumental in Charlton doubling their lead. Sent through to the left byline by Ghoochannaejhad’s neat pass, his low cross was nudged home by Makienok at the near post. A first half of total superiority was punctuated only by Fernando Forestieri’s feeble shot on the turn, which barely troubled Stephen Henderson. It was a rare break from Forestieri’s customary routine of sublime talent and infuriating gamesmanship.

Ten minutes into the second period, the Addicks sealed the issue with another fine strike. Facing his own goal, Makienok’s adhesive control set up a perceptive ball which sent Morgan Fox through a splayed defence on his own to confront Keiren Westwood. Sensibly choosing to pass rather than shoot, the left back’s unselfish low delivery was met by Ghoochannejhad, who crowned a hugely encouraging contribution by turning home his first league goal at The Valley from close range. The outclassed visitors were spared an even more emphatic hiding when Gudmundsson sought to punish Bannan’s foul on Ba but unluckily hit the bar with a dipping 25-yard free kick.

With a quarter hour remaining, an horrendous error by Sarr marred the French defender’s otherwise satisfactory performance and provided Wednesday with a throroughly undeserved consolation. His hapless airshot allowed Kieran Lee to skate past him and cross for Forestieri to shake off Holmes-Dennis and score past Henderson’s right hand. Local annoyance was pleasantly allayed by the brief, skilful cameo supplied by teenager Ademola Lookman who, if he has an inhibition, is at pains to hide it.

And so a squally afternoon began with “revolution in the air” and ended with “music in the cafes at night.” The voluble protests prior to kick-off lost none of their validity based on one favourable result and it’s not clear whether this one-off success will spare Fraeya the fate which undoubtedly awaited him if Charlton had succumbed again. While pleased by the unexpected result, as loyal supporters, many of us feel that the case for a British manager remains uncompromised. Not to mention an owner who shows up occasionally to show responsibility as well as leadership. The people’s tribunes stay erected for the time being.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly (Holmes-Dennis 24), Bauer, Sarr, Fox, Ba (Moussa 66), Jackson, Diarra, Gudmundsson, Ghoochannejhad (Lookman 82), Makienok. Not used: Pope, Ahearne-Grant, Bergdich, Charles-Cook. Booked: Ba, Fox.

Wednesday: Westwood, Hunt, Hutchinson (Joao 46), Loovens (Sasso 46), Lees, Wallace, Pudil, Bannan, Lee, Hooper (McGugan 66), Forestieri. Not used: Wildsmith, Semedo, Nuhiu, Helan. Booked: Hutchinson, Bannan, Forestieri.

Referee: Gavin Ward.

Att: 16,267 (3075 visiting).

MK Dons 1 (Bowditch 29) Charlton 0.

You can say what you like about statistics (Mark Twain famously linked them with “lies and damned lies”) but they do a pretty job of explaining the mess in which Charlton currently find themselves. Take a look at the following numbers and make me wrong.

Charlton have won two of their fourteen league games to date; their last victory was as far back as August 22nd; they have failed to score in their last five games; which means they have spent a minimum of 450 futile minutes poncing around in their feeble efforts to find the net. They’re a rudderless side lacking purpose or direction, which is my unsolicited opinion and admittedly doesn’t qualify as a statistic. But it lends substance to the figures quoted above. Put it this way. You’d find more passion at a spelling bee. Mind you, they can get a bit heated at times. Especially if one of the contestants is American and insists on a colonial dictionary, in which case the letter “u” largely bites the dust.

Anyway, less than a week into November and this train wreck of a season already careers from one crisis to another. This latest depressing defeat by mediocre MK Dons did, to be fair, provide a silver lining. Following three consecutive 3-0 hidings, to keep the score down to one must be regarded as progress. And if you think I’m taking the mickey, you’re spot-on. It’s how I deal with pressure. It’s either that or yield to hysteria.

The Addicks’ steady disintegration, meanwhile, is taking place to music .Or am I the only one who, as we head for the buffers, catches the strains of mad music drifting over from Belgium, where our absentee emperor can be heard fiddling as his South London guinea pigs burn?

Duchatelet’s reaction to the problems confronting Guy Luzon was to replace him with yet another of the “Gissa job” mendicants who drift within his organisation waiting for some poor sod to get the bullet, then make themselves available to step inside his shoes.

There’s no reason to doubt that Karel Fraeye is a decent enough bloke and equally no doubt that his credentials leave him poorly equipped to manage a club in the unforgiving battleground that is the English Championship. But hey, Karel, the guvnor says have a go anyway and we’ll see where it takes us. Minimum wage suit you? Roly didn’t get where he is today without sticking to the minimum wage.

To the footsoldiering fans who will still be around when RD, KM and KF are mere initials cut into Charlton’s history, the next move seems obvious. So let’s put it to Roly. Why not forget all the cut-price nonentities you move around like pawns in your power-mad game? Turn instead to some homegrown veteran who understands the local minefields, somebody like Nigel Pearson or better yet, Alex McLeish, a forgotten man these days. Anyone domestic except Ian Holloway, Neil Warnock or that portly chap up at Leeds, who has recently taken to referring to himself in the third person (Kevin Nolan has nothing but contempt for that kind of affectation). Blow the cobwebs off your wallet and get us a hard man who can turn the train around before it blindly hits the buffers. And stop stroking that cat in your lap.

On duty for MK Dons on Tuesday, for instance, was Karl Robinson, one of the younger managers but one with considerable experience and tenure in the job. MK Dons have been relegated under his stewardship but chairman Pete Winkelman stuck with his man and was rewarded for his loyalty. Robinson and Winkelman don’t get in the papers often but they do a bang-up job in a naff environment which can hardly be mistaken for a footballing hotbed. The club’s origins were, to say the least, dubious, but the old Wimbledon of Fashanu, Wise, Jones and Bassett hardly inspired affection. Nasty little bunch who ain’t missed, really, so it might be time to forget grudges and let it go. I’m over it, I must admit, probably because the club I follow is not exactly a shining example of probity right now.

And Tuesday night’s game? What can I tell you? The only break some of us got was that our coach arrived late, which spared us about twenty minutes of the sterile fare being served up as football by the timid visitors. Apparently we missed a decent shot from Jordan Cousins, which forced a diving save from David Martin but we were naturally bang in time to witness Dean Bowditch’s carefully sidefooted finish, from Samir Caruthers set-up, as it eluded Stephen Henderson’s dive and found the bottom right corner. We didn’t need telling that with an hour left, the issue was already settled by that single goal. Not only that, by the time we arrived, the press room food had disappeared, as had the programmes and team sheets. It was hard not to be disgruntled but you soldier on.

So we were subjected to another limp offering from a demoralised, distressed football team, which was further depleted by the loss, through injury, of Johann Berg Gudmundsson and the seemingly indestructible Jordan Cousins. 18 year-old novice Ademola Lookman made his debut and did alright while Henderson was blameless, with a one-on-one save from Nicky Maynard a highlight of his sound performance. And that’s all there is to report. This team has reached rock bottom. It’s not dark yet…but it’s getting there.

MK Dons: Martin, Lewington, Upson (Hodson 39), Kay, Potter, Bowditch (Baker 72), Spence, Carruthers, Maynard (Church 77), Murphy, Poyet. Not used: Cropper, Gallagher, Powell, Hall. Booked: Maynard, Kay.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly, Diarra, Bauer, Fox, Gudmundsson, Cousins (Makienok 62), McAleny (Ahearne-Grant 46), Jackson, Ghoochannejhad (Lookman 65), Watt. Not used: Pope, Sarr, Holmes-Dennis, Ba. Booked: Gudmundsson, Diarra, Bauer, Ghoochannejhad, Jackson.

Att: 9,575.

Charlton 0 Brentford 3 (Swift 27, Judge 55, Vibe 86).

Still shellshocked by their team’s total meltdown on Tuesday October 20th 2015 (“a date which will live in infamy”) Charlton’s fans turned up again four days later without a clue what to expect. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, that summed up the mood of nervous energy permeating the famous old ground.

There were rumours that manager Guy Luzon had arrived on a tumbril and talk of an old crone feverishly knitting just behind the home dugout. Totally untrue, of course. Luzon came by bus as usual and who bothers to knit these days? But Charlton’s Israeli boss, holder of this poisoned chalice for just nine months, was undeniably under unbearable pressure from a rarely glimpsed owner, who began his tenure by engineering the dismissal of a club icon for standing up to him regarding team selection and compounded his poor judgement by appointing a trio of in-house caretakers, all of whom proved dispensable the minute the going got tough. You need a thick skin, not to mention a cast-iron contract, before giving even a thought to managing this increasingly risible football club.

Luzon, we were told, was safe from the sack. We had the word of no less than the club’s CEO, Katrien Meire, for that. Her classic vote of confidence removed any semblance of doubt. The gaffer was here for the long haul and when he showed up in the press room for a post-match debriefing, following this second 3-0 home defeat of the week, nothing in his demeanour suggested he was already “down the road”. Elsewhere in The Valley, however, his fate was being sealed. Funny how the word gets around and the usual suspects gather like vultures. You’ll probably wince to realise that Ian Holloway is available, though the seriously compromised Malky Mackay apparently has the inside track.

There was, meanwhile, a game to be played at The Valley and for 10 minutes, Luzon’s players performed as if determined to save their guvnor’s neck. No fewer than four chances were created before Brentford had settled to their task, with the mercurial Tony Watt involved in each of them.

After just four minutes, Watt spun clear of Jake Bidwell on the right, made ground and swept in a low, accurate centre. Simon Makienok’s clumsy challenge helped the ball squirt to Franck Moussa who, from 10 yards, drove disastrously wide. Charlton’s best chance of an ill-fated afternoon had been carelessly squandered. The tricky Scot then crossed dangerously from the left but Makienok failed by a whisker to make contact at the far post.

Briefly on fire, Watt came again and set up Johann Berg Gudmundsson to test Button with a potent drive, which the ex-Charlton keeper unconvincingly parried. Gudmundsson returned the favour after heading back Button’s poor clearance but Watt’s low crosshot missed the far post by inches. And that was the Addicks’ bolt all but shot as the Bees pulled themselves together.

Kaleidoscopic interpassing and interchanging between diminutive midfielders Ryan Woods and the hugely gifted Alan Judge began to give the Addicks an exhausting runaround, with old stager Alan McCormack prompting his young tyros from a position in the centre circle. Nothing in a forgettable spell with Charlton warned us that the Irishman could be this good. His long range drive fizzed narrowly over the bar before Stephen Henderson saved smartly from John Swift.

A fierce shot from Moussa forced an excellent save from Button but proved to be Charlton’s last hurrah. A minute later, Judge’s wonderful cross from the right was headed powerfully past Henderson by Swift. McCormack immediately threatened to double the Bees’ advantage with a 30-yard cannonball which rattled the underside of the bar.

Generously applauded on their way to half-time refreshments, the Addicks were virtually finished off ten minutes after the break. Launching a lightning counter-attack from deep inside their own half, the visitors’ break-out was led by Judge, who exchanged passes with McCormack down the left, stepped inside on to his right foot and bent a beauty beyond Henderson into the far corner. In a week of fine goals at The Valley, lamentably none of which was scored by the home side, this one holds its own.

A Dublin midfielder in the playmaking mould of Andy Reid and Wes Hoolahan, Judge proceeded to crown an outstanding contribution with a contender for pass of the season. From just inside the right touchline, his soaring delivery cleared Chris Solly’s head on its way to Lasse Vibe on the opposite flank. The late substitute’s first touch set up a low drive through Solly’s legs, which beat a possibly unsighted Henderson at his near post. Abruptly, a resigned but generally well behaved Valley emptied. Sorely tried, the fans had had more than enough.

All that remained was the ritual humiliation of Guy Luzon, who was allowed to conduct his post-game press interview while his downfall was being plotted behind his back. Some club this is turning out to be, with its drippy fans’ sofa, its childish mascots and its cavalier treatment of a succession of managers. A family club? Try telling that to Chris Powell. He was the nearest we got to a father figure. And what happened to him was nothing short of patricide.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly, Bauer, Sarr, Fox, Cousins, Jackson, Gudmundsson, Moussa (McAleny 60), Makienok (Ghoochannejhad 76), Watt (Ahearne-Grant 76). Not used: Pope, Holmes-Dennis, Bergdich, Ba. Booked: McAleny.

Brentford: Button, Dean, Tarkowski, Yennaris, Bidwell, Djuricin (Vibe 73), McCormack (Canos 89), Woods, Judge, Diagouraga, Swift (Kerschbaumer 62). Not used: Bonham, Hoffman, O’Connell, Gogia.

Referee: Stuart Attwell.

Charlton 0 Preston North End 3 (Gallagher 2, 36, Johnson 62).

Kevin Nolan reports from The Valley

Plumbing unimaginably new depths of ineptitude, Charlton’s slide towards League One accelerated with this embarrassing dismantling by Preston, winners only once previously this season. North End duly vaulted over their bewildered hosts and by virtue of alphabetical inferiority to Bristol City, the Addicks slithered into the Championship’s bottom three. Which is where they deserve to be and will continue to be unless The Valley’s absentee owner/landlord shows just a smidgin of interest in their plight. If, indeed, he actually is interested. It’s hard to tell because he’s eyeballed around the place less often than George Osborne at a food bank.

Hapless. Helpless. Hopeless. These were three of the more polite descriptions of Charlton’s drab efforts. There were, of course, many more alternative epithets used by their hacked-off fans to capture their stunning inadequacy but the obscenity laws of the land rule out their repetition in this report. You are invited to fill in your own blanks. But kindly don’t use them to frighten the horses.

To be fair, Charlton were beset by injuries, the latest of which saw the withdrawal of Johann Berg Gudmundsson. who will no doubt disappear into the Bermuda Triangle which mysteriously swallows up wounded Addicks. And that’s as fair as we’ll get because the visitors arrived with their own list of absentees which more than matched the Sparrows Lane roster of casualties. Even the absence of suspended Patrick Bauer was seen, if not raised, by the loss to Preston, of banned striker Joe Garner.

Guy Luzon’s response to his latest dilemma was to hand a full debut to Tareiq Holmes-Dennis, re-instate Morgan Fox and switch Zakaraya Bergdich to a bizarre role in wide right midfield. He thereby managed to field no fewer than three left backs in a line-up which consequently had a piecemeal look to it. Holmes-Dennis, still a week short of his 20th birthday, stuck to his guns but was overwhelmed by the occasion; Fox endured a personal nightmare; Bergdich was utterly anonymous until replaced for the second half by Everton loanee Conor McAleny, an elegant performer boasting more style than substance. Not that any other Addick emerged with credit. They all went missing, each as dire as the other.

It took Charlton two minutes to handicap themselves. They share a chronic tendency to dive in with ill-advised tackles just outside their penalty area and this time it was impetuous Jordan Cousins who upended Adam Reach in tempting territory for setpiece specialist Paul Gallagher. Having studiously organised his wall, Nick Pope left himself too much ground to cover as Gallagher picked his spot for a beauty which dipped inside the left post.

It was Gallagher’s first contribution to a game which he took by the scruff of the neck and personally controlled until he departed with 11 mintes left. His killer pass soon after he’d scored sent Jordan Hugill through to be ruthlessly chopped down by Alou Diarra. This time his free kick was blocked by the wall.

Alongside Gallagher, Daniel Johnson was the perfect foil. His raking 25-yard drive was capably saved by Pope before, on 27 minutes, Tony Watt produced the outclassed Londoners’ first effort on target, a stinging shot into Jordan Pickford’s midriff, which drew ironic cheers from the increasingly restless natives. But it was Gallagher who placed clear water between the sides before the interval.

The old pro’s left wing corner was cleared out to Marnick Vermijl, whose fierce volley was deflected for a second flagkick. This near post delivery was scrambled back to him and his acute-angled finish off the bar into the far corner was the sublime work of a seasoned veteran with miles still left on his clock.

Before the teams retired to vastly different welcomes for their tea break, Gallagher came within inches of completing an outstanding hat-trick. His audacious 30-yard chip had Pope backpedalling frantically to touch over his bar. The keeper’s enterprising save earned him the luck he enjoyed later when Alan Browne’s header rebounded off the woodwork.

A dreadful first half got even worse for Charlton after the interval, although a brisk opening ten minutes of the second period, while a mile short of a purple patch, offered brief hope. Twin talismen Johnnie Jackson and Simon Makienok came off the bench just past the hour but there was to be no reprise of the Fulham heroics. Instead the busy Johnson slapped the Addicks further down by leaving Fox on his derriere as he cut in from the right to curl an unstoppable left-footed drive beyond the shellshocked Pope. All three of North End’s goals were special. This one, though, was the pick of the bunch.

Johnson’s fine strike not only consigned Charlton to the bottom three but brought with it open dissension from the stands. Luzon was assured that his tenure as Charlton manager would be terminated in the morning and the mood was mutinous by the time his players left the scene. They had again supplied a single on-target effort, while breaking records for passes sideways and backwards and contriving to make Preston look like champions-elect. They were spineless, gormless, clueless. Grown men (and women, he added hastily) will shoot bolt upright in bed in the wee small hours when the memory of this awful night chills their nightmares. And we do it all again on Saturday, with Brentford anxious no doubt to mop up what’s left. If it all turns ugly again, counselling should be made available for those unable to cope. Then we might be able to put that bloody sofa to better use.

Charlton: Pope, Solly, Sarr, Diarra, Fox, Bergdich (McAleny 46), Cousins, Ba (Jackson 61), Holmes-Dennis, Ahearne-Grant (Makienok 61), Watt. Not used: Henderson, Ghoochannejhad, Kennedy, Mossa. Booked: Fox.

Preston: Pickford, Vermijl (Huntington 70), Wright, Browne, Cunningham, Hugill, Gallagher (Kilkenny 79), Reach, Doyle (Keane 84), Johnson, Woods. Not used: James, Welsh, Davies, May. Booked: Doyle, Browne.

Referee: Simon Hooper.

Charlton 2 (Jackson 81, Cousins 90+6) Fulham 2 (Tunnicliffe 32, McCormack 59).

With just 10 minutes of this desperately disappointing game left, Charlton were staring another demoralising defeat squarely in the face. The players were showing every sign of surrendering, the crowd was becoming mildly mutinous, even your reporter’s blue bookie’s pen had dried up.

It was a bleak scenario into which Guy Luzon, bowing to popular demand, introduced his third and final substitute. But this was no ordinary substitute. For bursting from a phone box kept near the bench for his exclusive use, the newcomer bounded on to the field, joined the throng awaiting Johann Berg Gudmunsson’s outswinging corner and, with his first touch, headed it unstoppably into the roof of Fulham’s net. Screaming his delight and defiance at the covered end, the mystery man tore open his shirt to reveal himself as Captain Jackson, rescuer of lost causes and regular accomplisher of the impossible. It was all in a day’s work for Charlton’s own super hero.

The electrified crowd bayed back their affection and appreciation, having beseeched Luzon to stick him on for at least 20 minutes. They know the character of their man, the galvanic impact he has on both team and supporters. And many of them have no time for the theory that his 33 year-old legs are past it, reasoning that at least 50% of football is played in the head. A vast store of knowledge has accrued inside this particular veteran’s head and informs him that there are times when standing still is a shrewder ploy than tearing around to no specified purpose. It was a shot in the arm to have him back.

Confident, complacent, cocky Fulham were taken aback by the new development. After strolling into a 2-0 lead, which they might, on occasion, have improved, they were thrust on to the back foot and didn’t relish the experience. Suddenly goalkeeper Andy Lonergan took an age with his goal kicks, while Jamie O’Hara’s 90th minute replacement by Sakari Matilla was attended by as much ceremony as the Changing of the Guard. Their understandable delaying tactics appeared to have worked when lively Karlan Ahearne-Grant fired what seemed a last chance over the bar. But the richly promising 18 year-old kid, at the other end of the career spectrum as his venerable skipper, wasn’t quite through for the afternoon.

Summoning one last burst of his youthful energy, Ahearne-Grant made space on the right flank for a perfectly flighted cross. Overpowering the tiring Cottagers at the far post, 21 year-old Jordan Cousins emulated Jackson’s no-nonsense treatment of Gudmundsson’s earlier delivery and bulleted a headed equaliser past the remains of Fulham’s resistance. And if Tony Watt had managed to get a toe in front of Richard Stearman to convert a fleeting last-kick chance, the stirring rally might have raised the roof.

Prior to the intervention of superhero Jackson, there was little to enthuse either the under-pressure Luzon or a patient, expectant crowd. As early as the opening minute, Cousins produced a deliciously timed pass to send Conor McAleny through the inside left channel but the Everton loanee shot wastefully wide of the left post as Lonergan hopefully advanced. Sobered by the escape, the West Londoners took the initiative, with Nick Pope required to pull off excellent saves to keep out drives from Jazz Richards and the busy O’Hara.

With Pope in such reliable form, it was discouraging when the latest of the rookie keeper’s disastrous errors helped the visitors to an important lead just past the half hour mark. Picking himself up 30 yards from goal following a careless foul by Alou Diarra, Ross McCormack’s low free kick was on target but hit straight at Pope. Troubled by similar shots in past games, the young stopper spilled the ball at the feet of Ryan Tunnicliffe, who made easy work of converting the rebound. Until Stephen Henderson returns and as long as Dimitar Mitov is not trusted to step into the breach, Pope’s vulnerability to the low, hard shot down his throat, remains a fatal flaw in the armoury of an otherwise promising keeper. His problem needs to be addressed before his confidence and The Valley’s loyalty are mutually exhausted.

Having paid eleven million quid for McCormack, Fulham weren’t fully vindicated by his goal output last season. But his 59th minute strike, which doubled the Cottagers’ lead a minute before the hour mark, was typically predatory. The spadework was done on the left by the indefatigable Tunnicliffe, whose pass was initially taken too wide by the Scottish scoring machine. Wrapping himself around a left-footed shot, McCormack found the bottom right corner with practised ease.

At that point, with the game drifting away from them, Charlton apparently stood no chance. Substitutes Zakaraya Bergdich and Franck Mouusa, to be fair, improved matters but the general torpor gave no hint of the drama about to unfold. The Addicks were sleepwalking to defeat when, to overwhelming approval,

Luzon played his last card. Call it charisma, call it personality, just call it the Johnnie Jackson effect and have done with it. He’s Charlton’s courageous captain, their captain courageous, a player admired, for good reason, throughout the league. And not for the first time, he came through like gangbusters. Enjoy him while you can,

Charlton: Pope, Solly, Bauer, Diarra, Fox (Bergdich 65), Gudmundsson, Ba (Jackson 80), McAleny (Moussa 71), Cousins, Watt, Ahearne-Grant. Not used: Mitov, Sarr, Holmes-Dennis, Kennedy. Booked: Gudmundsson.

Fulham: Lonergan, Richards, Stearman, Ream, Husband, Pringle (Garbutt 60), Christensen, O’Hara (Matilla 90), Tunnicliffe, Dembele (Woodrow 78), McCormack. Not used: Lewis, Fredericks, Kacaniklic, Burn. Booked: Christensen.

Referee: James Linington. Attendance: 14.662.

Crystal Palace 4 (Campbell 51, Gayle 59, 74 pens,86) Charlton 1 (Sarr 65).

Despite years of so-called trying, Charlton haven’t quite got the hang of this Cup giantkilling lark yet. The penny hasn’t dropped that when you’re up against clearly superior opposition, the gap can sometimes be closed by spirit, heart and determination. In a word, guts. It also helps if you have a surprise or two up your sleeve. And also if you can play a bit.

For example, David was a rank outsider when he turned up to take on Goliath. But he was never the hopeless underdog history has made him out to be. That was no lucky shot the kid pulled off. He was obviously a deadeye Dave with slingshot and rock. What he had going for him was attitude and an edge.

Confronted by detested neighbours Crystal Palace in this Capital Cup third round tie, Charlton were by contrast drearily feeble. The marshmallows and cream puffs they catapulted at Palace wouldn’t have dented an egg, much less a confident Premier League defence. Their entire output amounted to a couple of off-target efforts from Conor McAleny, a decent shot by Karlan Ahearne-Grant which was capably dealt with by Wayne Hennessy and Tony Watt’s second half toepoke that zipped narrowly wide. In fairness, a reasonable appeal for a penalty was turned down when McAleny was chopped down inside the area but it all amounted to zilch, zip, zero. They were easy pickings for Palace, who squandered chances during a relatively even first half before turning on the burners and pulling away in a one-sided second period.

One of the problems is that the Addicks have very little up front, a situation complicated by the in-and-out availability of their fragile main strikers. Simon Makienok is the latest absentee through injury and with Tony Watt on the bench, Ahearne-Grant and McAleny were thrown in at the deep end at Selhurst Park. The youngsters did their best but found the going tough. Palace’s four goals, meanwhile, were shared by Frazier Campbell and Dwight Gayle, neither of whom start in the Premier League. This was a secondary home side carefully selected by Alan Pardew to do the job with as little stress as possible. He could afford a wry smile as the usual foulmouthed abuse wafted over to him from the Arthur Wait Stand. He’s heard it all before. Not that he cares one way or the other about it.

Palace made heavy weather of it before the interval. Gayle’s early free kick skimmed the bar before the elusive Wilfried Zaha wastefully headed Chung-yong Lee’s precise cross over the top. An error by the infuriating Zakaraya Bergdich allowed Lee to set up a close range shot by Campbell which Alou Diarra’s head diverted over the bar, then Gayle’s 25-yarder shaved the left post. In a rare foray at the other end, Ahearne-Grant’s skidding effort forced Hennessy’s solitary genuine save. Having defended capably enough, the visitors retired in reasonable shape at the break.

A different, more motivated Palace emerged upon resumption. Campbell headed Zaha’s perfect centre inexplicably wide but redeemed himself a minute later. Zaha’s weaving dribble caused chaos in the heart of Charlton’s rearguard and Campbell pivoted to plant a low drive in the bottom left corner. Almost immediately, McAleny’s feet were cut from under him inside the penalty area but referee Neil Swarbrick was not only unmoved by the incident but compounded his villainy by almost instantly awarding the Eagles a penalty for a far less obvious offence. Caught on the wrong side of Campbell as the forward eluded him, Diarra’s leaning challenge was clumsy and marginally illegal. The centre half was booked before Gayle made easy work of converting the spotkick.

Five minutes later, Charlton were surprisingly back in it with half a chance as Naby Sarr forcefully headed substitute Johann Berg Gudmundsson’s corner through Hennessy’s weak hands. It won’t have escaped Guy Luzon’s attention that his side’s last three goal have been scored by centre backs and that his frontline strikers (Makienok, Watt and Vetokele) have chalked up just four goals between them.

As if affronted by the Addicks’ success, Swarbrick’s second crucial intervention restored Palace’s two-goal cushion. Again Diarra lost his man, this time the waspish Gayle, yet again he awkwardly bundled his opponent to the ground, on this occasion even less culpably than before. Deaf to suggestions that he might be a “homer” Swarbrick pointed to the spot and flourished a straight red card at Diarra. Gayle buried his second penalty and completed his hat-trick four minutes from time by outjumping a threadbare defence to head home Lee’s right wing corner.

So Charlton’s little adventure in the Capital Cup was emphatically over. They might have dodged a bullet in avoiding a potentially painful visit to Manchester City in the next round but defeat at the hands of Crystal Palace is a bitter pill at any time. The last laugh belonged to Pardew, unruffled by the toxic atmosphere and vindicated by decisive victory over his would-be tormentors. Blimey, football can be galling!

Palace: Henessy, Mariappa, Delaney (Hangeland 34), Souare, Kelly, Zaha, Lee, McArthur (Cabaye 74), Ledley, Campbell (Bamford 60), Gayle. Not used: Speroni, Bolasie, Sako, Puncheon.

Charlton: Pope, Solly, Sarr, Diarra, Fox, Kennedy (Gudmundsson 59), Bergdich, Ba, Cousins (Kashi 68), McAleny (Watt 72), Ahearne-Grant. Not used: Mitov, Bauer, Holmes-Dennis, Lennon. Booked: Diarra, Bergdich. Sent off: Diarra.

Referee: Neil Swarbrick.

Att: 16,576 (2,900 visiting).

Charlton 1 (Sarr 45) Huddersfield Town 2 (Bunn 11, Huws 34).

Kevin Nolan reports from The Valley

Dispiriting defeat marked the second stage in Charlton’s three-game trawl through the lowest reaches of the Championship. They came up empty-handed after being outsmarted, outfought and embarrassingly outclassed by Huddersfield Town, who began the evening second from bottom and without a win so far this season but deservedly left The Valley just three points behind their helpful hosts.

At the weekend, bottom of the table Rotherham had helped themselves to a badly needed point while Blackburn Rovers, with a daunting fixture complicating matters at QPR tonight, will be targetting next Saturday’s home game against Charlton as an outstanding chance to improve their prospects. So much for the seven or even nine points haul the Addicks expected from this trinity of “winnable ” games.

There were similarities between the two home games. Starting on the back foot again, Charlton handed the initiative to the visitors, unfortunately this time going not one but two goals down before the interval. Briefly pulling themselves together, they reduced their arrears prior to the break and left themselves the entire second half to make good their disadvantage. Which is something they failed miserably to do.

Patrick Bauer’s cynical first minute foul on Harry Bunn, for which he might reasonably have been booked, betrayed Charlton’s inexplicable nervousness. So too did Morgan Fox’s less than resolute commitment in a 50-50 challenge with Sean Scannell, hardly a renowned brute in such circumstances. The ex-Palace wide man broke through Fox’s wafer-thin resistance before pulling a deceptive cross back behind the wrongfooted central defenders. Meeting the ball on the turn, Bunn’s firmly struck volley bounced up and in off the right hand of a badly deceived Nick Pope. It was tough on the young keeper but he might have done better.

At the other end, Johann Berg Gudmundsson shot narrowly wide and Jed Steer showed decisiveness in leaving his line to beat Simon Makienot to El-Hadji Ba’s fine curling delivery. But spearheaded by Ishmael Miller’s unmanageable physicality and the weaving menace of Mustapha Caryol on the left flank, the Terriers looked likelier to score again. Struggling to contain Caryol, Chris Solly was beaten on the inside by the winger, whose curling right-footed drive was pushed away by Pope, the loose ball barely eluding Scannell as he closed in beyond the far post.

With clearly no intention of sitting on their lead, Town set about doubling it. Full debutant Naby Sarr, deputising for the curiously rested Alou Diarra, showed immaturity in needlessly shoving the bustling Miller in the back to concede a free kick, which Emyr Huws skilfully planted in the bottom left corner. Leaving himself too much ground to cover from his position nearer the opposite post, Pope was unable to manage a touch despite a full length dive.

In the last minute of normal time, the Addicks seemed to have provided themselves with a launch pad for second half recovery by halving the deficit. Jason Davidson’s foul on the persistent Ba allowed Gudmunsson to swing in a free kick from the left, which Sarr glanced inside the left post. It was a morale-boosting end to a desperately disappointing first half but ultimately amounted to nothing.

The second period petered out almost as an afterthought. Ba started it by scuffing Makienok’s pass across goal but wide of the far post, then Makienot made a similar mess of converting a huge punt from Pope, which cleared Elliott Ward’s head and sent him through to confront Steed. Substitute Zakaraya Bergdich blasted Gudmundsson’s cross wildly over the bar and Makienok skewed the Icelandic schemer’s corner in vaguely the same direction.

It was hardly irresistible pressure and wasn’t helped by the self-indulgent contribution of Tony Watt. Dropping deeper as the game wore on, the undeniably skilful Scot set himself the self-appointed task of breaking down Town’s resistance with a series of doomed dribbles through their massed ranks. The word is obviously out on the ex-Celtic maverick’s individuality and his solo efforts were comfortably snuffed out by a nagging posse of opponents. Watt might be profitably re-introduced to Makienok and have the benefits of a strike partnership explained to him.

It wouldn’t do, of course, to lay the blame for Charlton’s recent slump solely at Watt’s twinkling feet. Or to castigate young Sarr, who was taken to school by the streetwise Miller. Alongside him, Bauer drew a similar blank in controlling Miller’s old-fashioned muscularity. Meanwhile, Solly has rarely been given the chasing he received from Carayol while Fox struggled vainly to contain the fleetfooted Scannell, who provided his defence with the ideal outlet whenever they came under occasional pressure. So outstanding against Rotherham, Pope was marginally at fault for both goals and weakened his case for selection when Stephen Henderson makes an overdue return. Ahmed Kashi and Ba were arguably the pick of a poor bunch, while Jordan Cousins has lapsed into relative anonymity, with some slack cut for his willingness to play out of position wide on the left.

Only seven games into the new season, Charlton already betray a jaded look. Much more of the same and it’s they who will be targetted as a soft touch by the top half of the table. Their attitude at Blackburn will be under the spotlight because defeat there might inspire the first shoots of panic. Perhaps they are not as good as we thought they were. Or perhaps they will ram those words down my throat.

Charlton: Pope, Solly, Sarr, Bauer, Fox (McAleny 74) Gudmundsson, Kashi, Ba (Bergdich 54), Cousins, Makienok (Vetokele 80), Watt. Not used: Mitov, Jackson, Diarra, Ahearne-Grant. Booked: Sarr.

Huddersfield: Steer, Crainie, Ward, Whitehead, Davidson, Scannell (Smith 89), Bunn, Huws (Billing 46), Carayol (Dempsey 78), Lynch, Miller Not used: Allinson, Paterson, Wells, Lolley. Booked: Lynch, Steer.

Referee: Craig Breakspear.

Att: 13,873 (339 visiting).