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Derby County 1 (Calero 87) Charlton 0.

Kevin Nolan reports from the iPRO Stadium.

As usual, Charlton’s encounter with the Capital One Cup was brief. Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson spent more time stiffening their lips and being terribly decent over endless tea in the station buffet. To be honest, I preferred Arthur Lowe’s re-take in Dad’s Army. At least he got on with it. Sadly though, it ended up the same.

It’s only fair to say, before recounting the main details, that the Addicks gave it a good shot at the iPRO Stadium, which is what they call Pride Park these days. Everything’s commercially sponsored at Derby, including goalmouth scrambles. And there were plenty of them at Charlton’s end in the second half.

Eventually, under the most dubious of circumstances, one paid off for the Rams and they scraped through to the next round. Bob Peeters probably won’t mind too much. In fact, he probably won’t mind at all.

Battered but resilient, the visitors soaked up constant pressure, hit back occasionally and stayed in the hunt until a late, scandalous refereeing decision proved their undoing. With no fewer than six starters reared in the club’s peerless Sparrows Lane academy, they defied their much vaunted hosts and showed, if nothing else, that they have enough about them to thrive in the Championship.

The most recent of those kids to break through has been Nick Pope and nobody deserved less to be on the losing side. A performance of nerve and skill, which included one especially fine save from Leon Best, looked like earning the visitors the poisoned chalice of extra-time but was ultimately doomed to disappointment. Which is where self-important referee Graham Salisbury came in.

For an hour, we hadn’t really noticed the ref, which might have riled him. He certainly made up for it in the closing stages, beginning with an almost laughable booking meted out to Michael Morrison for an awkward but perfectly fair challenge on Best. Charlton had been warned but there was no way of knowing what Salisbury had in store for them.

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There were three minutes left when Pope delayed a routine clearance at the edge of his penalty area. Since the tie was due to be settled on the night, he had no reason to waste time but that cut little ice with our man Salisbury. Arriving on the scene in a flurry of indignation and authority, he sternly lectured the rebellious youngster, before booking him, presumably for infringing the dimly remembered six-second rule. Making up new laws as he went on, he then mysteriously re-started the game with a free kick to the Rams a few inches inside the 18-yard line, thereby ruling out any suggestion that Pope had handled the ball outside the area. Any semblance of commonsense had by now fled the scene.

Anyway, it got curiouser and curiouser until, amid general confusion, Johnny Russell’s free kick was eventually charged down by the wall and found its way to Chris Martin, who shook off Callum Harriott’s marking and made a determined run into the area. A short square pass set up fellow substitute Ivan Calero to take a steadying touch before blasting an unstoppable drive into the top left corner. Even the magnificent but betrayed Pope had no answer to that.

Preoccupied as they were with defending, the Addicks hadn’t offered much in reply. When they looked dangerous a few minutes before Calero settled the tie, the inevitable Salisbury had behaved ingloriously. Failing to spot the blatant foul by Craig Forsyth which prevented Lawrie Wilson from running clear on to Franck Moussa’s cute pass, he was alerted to the offence by his more vigilant assistant. A booking for Forsyth was obvious but oddly -or perhaps not so oddly – overlooked. Substitute Johann Gudmundsson almost applied his own rough justice but Lee Grant spectacularly tipped his curling free kick over the bar.

Salisbury was on a pompous roll by now. During five minutes of added time (in the excitement I missed the sponsor’s name), he worked himself into a lather over the precise placing of a harmless free kick in Charlton’s half, stamping his foot impatiently as a succession of Addicks sought to keep on his right side. He wasn’t a man to be trifled with, a kind of Captain Mainwaring without any of his many saving graces. A “silly old fool”, in fact, as that eyebrowed Caledonian Fraser would have called him. By the way, I don’t know how you feel about it but the good captain’s lady was the real fool for leaving him. They had more chance than Trevor and Celia. That pair of gasbags would have talked it to death. A bit like Graham Salisbury. On second thoughts, a lot like Graham Salisbury.

Derby: Grant, Shotton, Keogh, Whitbread, Forsyth, Mascarell (Martin 69), Russell (Santos 69), Hendrick, Dawkins (Calero 69), Hughes, Best. Not used: Roos, Christie, Bryson, Rawson.

Charlton: Pope, Gomez, Morrison (Gudmundsson 79), Bikey, Fox, Wilson, Cousins, Jackson (Buyens 64), Harriott, Moussa, Tucudean (Vetokele 64). Not used: Mitov, Wiggins, Church, Ben Haim. Booked: Morrison, Pope.

Referee: Graham Salisbury. Att: 16,367 (297 visiting).

Huddersfield Town 1 (Wells 50) Charlton 1 (Vetokele 90).

Kevin Nolan reports from The John Smith’s Stadium.

The unadorned statistics record that Huddersfield and Charlton drew 1-1 in West Yorkshire on Saturday. They earned a point apiece and little else matters. Disputes about right and wrong, not to mention justice or the lack thereof, belong in small claims court and mean nothing after a football match. You get what you end up with, not necessarily what you “deserve.” Never explain. Never apologise. It ain’t nobody’s business but your own, as Billie Holliday pointed out.

So having copped that plea, we’ll proceed to admit that Charlton were outrageously lucky to salvage a precious point from this tepid performance. A series of questionable decisions by referee Tim Robinson, whose heart, if not his home, appeared to lie far south of Huddersfield, palpably favoured them. Besides displaying a holding midfielder’s knack of timely interceptions to break up play (scrupulously for both sides, it must be said), Robinson was otherwise impossible to ignore. And he wasted little time in claiming centre stage.

Fixated on knocking the ball around the back line before proceeding in careful stages through midfield, the Addicks’ defenders have apparently been encouraged to include rookie goalkeeper Nick Pope in a deliberate but highly risky regimen of possession. The Terriers had obviously scouted uncertainty in not only a reluctant Pope but towering centre back Andre Bikey. In Nakhi Wells, they had just the livewire forward to sniff it out.

As Bikey and Pope confused each other on the 18-yard line, Wells neatly relieved them of the ball but was halted in his tracks by the mysterious award of a free kick to the defenders for a foul visible only to Robinson. A few minutes later, Wells again pounced on the dithering duo, Rhoys Wiggins’s weak back pass along the byline made a bad situation worse but Tal Ben Haim’s express train tackle on the pesky nuisance of a striker cleared the danger.

Culpable for Derby’s second goal on Tuesday, Pope hardly needed such distractions. Fortunately, his confidence was restored by the splendid flying save he made from Harry Bunn before another smart stop from the same player completed his rehabilitation. This talented kid’s gonna be fine; stand on it. Igor Vetokele, meanwhile, was Charlton’s bright spark, his venomous volley forcing an equally fine save from Alex Smithies. Before the interval, the jetheeled Angolan featured in the second of Robinson’s key interventions.

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Having just booked Town captain Lee Peltier for “professionally” tugging back Joni Buyens, the fussbudget official was in no mood to extend the same tolerance to Murray Wallace when the big defender turned the same trick to stop Vetokele as he darted on to George Tucudean’s sublime flick. A clear route to goal was inconclusive but Bikey proved indispensable in convincing Robinson to don the black cap. Off went the highly indignant centre back and the Addicks had their stricken hosts at their mercy. At least, that’s the way it looked.

Five minutes after the break, the depleted Terriers made nonsense of their disadvantage by taking a shock lead. Wide man Sean Scannell’s pass sent Tommy Smith sprinting to the right byline, where Jordan Cousins was out-hustled by the more determined midfielder. Smith centred hard and low, Wells couldn’t miss at the far post. For the first time this season, Charlton trailed. Initially, they made heavy weather of coping with the experience.

Sticking rigidly to their policy of passing from back to front, the Londoners showed few signs of redressing the imbalance. Chances were non-existent as Town made expert work of fragmenting an already disintegrating game with well-timed substitutions and a provocatively slothful approach to setpieces. Their spoiling tactics were spot-on and they might have made the points safe but were frustrated by yet another of Robinson’s highly-charged decisions against them.

Caught flatfooted as James Vaughan cut sharply inside him on the business side of the 18-yard line, Ben Haim’s lusty shoulder barge on the substitute smacked of a penalty, even looked like a penalty but clearly wasn’t a penalty, at least not according to the only chap that mattered. Tim Robinson, remember the name. He was a positive brick to Charlton all afternoon, though he might prudently avoid Huddersfield until local memories fade.

It didn’t seem all that important anyway until, wouldn’t you know it, the Addicks roused themselves for one supreme effort deep into added time. Collecting the ball in the centre circle, Johnnie Jackson made an old pro’s decision to launch it aerially, rather than lay it off short as dictated by the new tactics. Primitive admittedly but highly effective as Bikey, left upfield for just such an eventuality, soared high to head on. Alive to possibilities, Vetokele darted through to tuck a close range finish past the helpless Smithies. Short ball, long ball, they both have their place. When one tactic doesn’t work, try the other. And until one or the other is outlawed, keep your tactical options open.

Huddersfield: Smithies, Peltier (Majewski 60), Wallace, Lynch, Dixon, Coady, Butterfield, Scannell (Hamill 87), Wells (Vaughan 64), Bunn. Not used: Murphy, Ward, Stead, Crooks. Sent off: Wallace. Booked: Peltier, Vaughan, Bunn.

Charlton: Pope, Solly, Ben Haim, Bikey, Wiggins (Church 67), Gudmundsson, Buyens, Jackson, Cousins (Harriott 73), Vetokele, Tucudean (Moussa 56). Not used: Mitov, Wilson, Gomez, Fox. Booked: Wiggins.

Referee: Tim Robinson. Att: 11,333 (432 visiting).

Charlton 3 (Tucudean 11, Buyens 45 pen, Vetokele 78) Derby County 2 (Ward 31,85).

Keep it zipped for a bit but the signs are there’s something buzzing at The Valley. Or, more accurately, at Sparrows Lane, New Eltham, where the groundwork is done.

At a warmly appreciative Valley on Tuesday evening, Derby County became the second fancied promotion contender to bite the dust within three days. It wasn’t easy but this victory was no backs-to-the -wall gutsfest against superior opposition. On the contrary, the Addicks matched their talented visitors skill for skill in a thrilling, end-to-end duel, before young Nick Pope’s 85th minute error brought with it a brief descent into chaos. County’s second goal distorted the scoreline but this result was a fair one.

The dramatic improvement over last season’s near-collapse is easily explained. This summer’s reinforcements, undoubtedly acquired under Bob Peeters’ supervision, are leagues ahead of the one-armed paper-hangers, most of them neither use nor ornament, which were made available to Chris Powell or Jose Riga. All of them, with the exception of one unused fringe player, are gone and unlamented. In their place, six new arrivals started against Derby, each of them worthy of his place and clearly signed with Peeters’ approval. A perfect pitch is another advantage enjoyed by the new boss.

Among the new blokes, George Tucudean has been slowest to settle. Although the consensus has been that there’s something about him, the jury, so to speak, has been considering its verdict. Before a blatantly illegal challenge caused his withdrawal at half-time, the big Romanian put all argument to rest. Judgement was returned overwhelmingly in his favour.

Crowning an encouraging start, the Addicks moved ahead on 11 minutes. A sweeping move from their own half was given added momentum by Johann Gudmundsson’s electric turn and crisp pass out to Jordan Cousins on the left flank. Stepping inside instinctively on to his right foot, the teenaged prodigy picked out Tucudean, policed by Jake Buxton and Richard Keogh on the 18-yard line. One clever touch disposed of his markers, before a firm drive on the turn bisected them on its way into the bottom corner. Tucudean had announced his arrival but wasn’t quite through for the night.

Stung by the reverse, it was equally unlikely that these impressive Rams would implode. Urged on by dynamic engine roomers Craig Bryson (his foul on Tucudean was a cheap shot) and Jeff Hendrick, their recovery brought chances for Bryson to force a smart save from Pope and Simon Dawkins, who eluded Johnnie Jackson but shot narrowly wide. Just past the half hour, the Midlanders deservedly equalised.

Prolific last term but scoreless so far this season, Chris Martin let fly venomously from 20 yards but was defied by Pope’s fine full-length save. The loose ball was retrieved on the right byline by Hendricks, rolled neatly back to Jamie Ward and deposited brilliantly into the top left corner by the goal-starved striker.

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Coming into their own, the newly confident visitors pressed home their advantage, with Bryson’s fierce drive stinging Pope’s palms. Reaching half-time without further damage quickly became Charlton’s priority. To regain their lead, therefore, in the dying seconds of the half, was a precious bonus. And it was nearly a one-man show.

Tucudean’s twisting run and close control bewitched a posse of pursuing Rams until Keogh succumbed to temptation and brought him down heavily inside the area. Referee Bull sensibly weighed his responsibility before pointing to the spot, with Keogh’s turf-pounding histrionics no doubt as much in relief at escaping a card of any colour as genuine anger at the inevitable decision. Ice-cool Joni Buyens placed the penalty in precisely the same spot he chose against Colchester a week previously.

A tense second half stretched before the Addicks but they showed every intention of holding their own. Jackson set up substitute Moussa to screw a shot wide; Igor Vetokele evaded Buxton but saw his shot smartly saved by Lee Grant; Jackson’s free kick shaved the bar. At the other end, Martin’s deflected shot caromed dangerously wide and Keogh blasted Bryson’s corner wildly high. The scoring was clearly far from over and, with 12 minutes remaining, the home side grabbed a seemingly decisive third goal.

Excellent and industrious as ever, Jackson’s “suspect” legs caught up with a pass near the right byline, before the indispensable skipper checked back on his wand of a left foot to chip over a teasing cross. Reading the play intelligently, Lawrie Wilson had made ground to flick on at the near post and Vetokele’s header buried the chance into the opposite corner.

So that was that – time for Peeters to “put his feet up in the dug-out and enjoy a fat cigar.” Except that it wasn’t quite that. There were still five minutes on the clock when Ward’s weak toepoke passed inexplicably through Pope’s legs to set the stage for possible panic. But part of that previously mentioned buzz is the rock-like resistance organised by centre backs Andre Bikey and Tal Ben Haim, not to mention the reliability of Joe Gomez and Rhoys Wiggins. Plus Gudmundsson and Buyens – different class! They saw it through and Peeters was free to light up.

Charlton: Pope, Gomez, Ben Haim, Bikey, Wiggins, Gudmundsson (Fox 89), Buyens, Jackson, Cousins (Wilson 64), Vetokele, Tucudean (Moussa 46). Not used: Phillips, Morrison, Harriott, Church. Booked: Buyens, Gomez.

Derby: Grant, Christie, Buxton, Keogh, Forsyth, Hughes (Mascarell 46), Dawkins (Russell 69), Bryson, Hendrick, (Best 77), Ward, Martin. Not used: Roos, Naylor, Eustace, Whitbread. Booked: Bryson.

Referee: M. Bull. Att: 15,317 (1,434 visiting).

Charlton 2 (Cousins 8, Moussa 90+3), Wigan Athletic 1 (McManaman 22)

Bob Peeters wasn’t in charge when Wigan Athletic overhauled Charlton with two savagely late goals at The DW Stadium last February. He can count himself lucky because Cockney witnesses of that particular sickener still experience recurring nightmares. Well, they did until last Saturday’s events purged their trauma.

At the time, the supercilious attitude of Latics boss Uwe Rosler exacerbated the misery, his demeanour suggesting that he had carefully planned the victory from start to finish. The double sucker punch was, he implied, all part of an exquisitely timed coup. Cobblers, of course, because Wigan had ridden their luck- nothing wrong with that, of course – but we were deliciously reminded at a fever-pitch Valley yesterday, that in football what goes around comes around. And sometimes, when it comes around, it’s worth the wait… sometimes REALLY worth the wait.

This absorbing game, one which simmered but never actually caught fire, had entered the third of five added minutes when lively substitute Franck Moussa optimistically tried his luck from outside the area. His uninhibited shot caught a wicked deflection off Robert Kiernan, looped wildly over the straining grasp of Scott Carson and settled, with almost a pleasing plop, in the net behind the stricken keeper. Cue pandemonium.

While Moussa and his overjoyed teammates cavorted round the right corner flag, Peeters, clearly out of control and with no obvious destination in mind, careered down the touchline in Rosler’s general direction. It’s fair to say that Wigan’s disgruntled gaffer received his counterpart – how to put this? – less than graciously. He was distinctly gefruntzed – which is a Yiddish way of saying he was more than a little cheesed off and ready to dispute the matter. Uncivil words were exchanged, fisticuffs were a possibility until the game resumed, then it all kicked off again at the final whistle. The return on February 21st could be tasty.

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Rosler’s irritation was understandable because his talented Latics promised far more than they delivered. Their passing was precise, their movement intelligent, their ability to keep the ball impressive. It was cerebral stuff but it lacked dynamism. They allowed this game to drift away from them and had tacitly settled for a point by the time Moussa struck. There were no meaningful shots at goal from the visitors, apart from Callum McManaman’s excellent equaliser. And that’s basically the purpose of football.

Charlton’s 8th minute opening goal was a case in point. The ominously composed visitors had been camped in the Addicks’ half, before, with dramatic suddenness, they found themselves behind to an uncomplicated tactic they themselves appeared to have shunned.

Buckling down uncomplainingly to his unfamiliar wide role on the left, Jordan Cousins accepted Johann Gudmundsson’s raking pass, stepped inside James Perch and bent a 25-yards beauty into the far top corner. Simple, direct, a lesson for the learning.

A quarter hour later, Wigan seemed to have picked up on it. Running down James McArthur’s long pass to the right of goal, the outstanding McManaman turned Rhoys Wiggins inside out near the byline before squeezing a firm, low drive through Stephen Henderson from a tight angle.

Briefly given a bit of a chasing by the methodical Lancastrians, Charlton resisted stoutly. New centre back Andre Bikey was immense, his sturdy defending complemented by his willingness to play constructively from the back; his partner Tal Ben Haim offered solid support; Wiggins had his hands full with McManaman but improved steadily; Chris Solly was his usual cool, resourceful self. And in midfield, Johann Gudmundsson and Joni Buyens began to match the metronomic Latics. Even the worrying loss of Stephen Henderson midway through the second half failed to dent home resolve. His rookie replacement Nick Pope is a good ‘un; this Southern softie wasted little time in ruthlessly -but legally – laying out two tough Northern chaps in an aerial collision.

An earnest tactical duel was meandering into stalemate when Charlton burst into life with a flurry of late chances. Moussa made a mess of converting Solly’s precise cutback, with Gudmundsson’s effort behind him blocked by Andrew Taylor. Quiet but always dangerous, Igor Vetokele slipped Oriol Ramis’ leash, bore down on Carson but was foiled by the advancing keeper’s control of the narrowing angle. The Angolan striker’s miss seemed like a last futile spasm but the ever-optimistic Moussa kept the the faith. And set the stage for Peeters and Rosler to clash like a snake and a mongoose.

Charlton: Henderson (Pope 66), Solly, Ben Haim, Bikey, Wiggins, Gudmundsson, Buyens, Jackson (Wilson 75), Cousins, Vetokele, Tucudean (Moussa 61). Not used: Morrison, Harriott, Church, Fox.

Wigan: Carson, Perch, Ramis, Kiernan, Taylor, Huws, McArthur, Cowie (Espinoza 78), Fortune (Waghorn 69), Riera (Maloney 46), McManaman. Not used: Al Habsi, Tavernier, Caldwell, Barnett. Booked: Taylor.

Referee: Andy D’Urso. Att: 15,334 (447 visiting).

Charlton 4 (Buyens 23,pen, Wilson 55,59. Church 89) Colchester United 0.

Watched in polite appreciation by little over 5,000 fans (it was rowdier on the Marie Celeste) as they dismembered Colchester United, Charlton cruised sedately into the second round of the Capital One Cup. Their League One opponents were never in with a chance following the contentious penalty decision, which saw their captain Magnus Okuonghae sent off for “deliberate handball” on 23 minutes. So let’s tackle that game-changing flashpoint immediately.

The visitors were coping comfortably until George Tucudean reached the right byline to cross low to the far post, where Franck Moussa shot first-time against the desperately plunging figure of Okuonghae from close range. Whether the ball struck the defender’s hand or his ribs is in the eye of the beholder and depends largely on the beholder’s allegiance. Most neutrals were undecided. But the big centre back’s punishment was positively medieval. He conceded a penalty (hung), was sent off (drawn) and, pending appeal, faces suspension for three games (quartered). By rights, he should also have been dragged away in chains and waterboarded. Phil Mitchell’s ever-available lawyer, Ritchie, is believed to have accepted the brief.

Yoni Buyens duly converted the penalty with insolent aplomb and it was downhill for United from then on. Incensed manager Joe Dunne understandably highlighted the incident as critical to the result and he had a point. The reality is, of course, that the Us were outclassed by a home side which intelligently used the increase dimensions of the Valley pitch to give them a thorough chasing and provided an object lesson in exploiting a supposedly awkward one-man advantage.

The Essex chaps, roared on by 472 belligerent followers who kept up a barrage of hurtful, beastly slurs about the ground, home support and immediate neighbourhood, actually started brightly. Former West Ham prodigy Freddie Sears first blasted Gavin Massey’s long pass over the bar, then did likewise with Sean Clohessy’s cutback minutes later. In fairness to them, the wind was taken out of their sails by the penalty decision, but they were heading for the rocks anyway.

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With the brilliant Buyens magnetically attracting the ball and pulling the midfield strings, the Addicks began to pull away from their visitors. In a rehearsed corner routine, Jordan Cousins’ diagonal delivery set up Tucudean to shoot ferociously from the 18-yard line, Chris Lewington’s legs blocked defiantly and Buyens drove the rebound against a charging defender. But it took Bob Peeters’ men until early in the second half to put Colchester in their place.

Sears had the first word in the second period, his fierce 20-yarder forcing Stephen Henderson’s only save of note, before two quickfire goals from impressive Lawrie Wilson sealed the issue. Ten minutes after the break, the busy wide man caught up with Moussa’s angled pass to the right of goal and screwed a low shot back into the far bottom corner. A crisper, no-nonsense drive completed neat approach work by Callum Harriott and Moussa to finish United off. Wilson’s excellent contribution added to several selection dilemmas (not “headaches” as he was keen to stress), which Peeters must solve before Wigan’s arrival on Saturday.

Suspiciously at first, a subdued Valley began to warm to this brand new collection of Addicks. Before departing shortly after the hour mark, Buyens was different class, Moussa showed enough to suggest he’s a shrewd acquisition, Andre Bikey was huge in all senses of the word. Tucudean was unlucky not to open his account when his second half shot, following Jordan Cousins’ piercing pass, was cleared off the line by Clohessy while substitute Johan Gudmundsson slotted into Buyens’ central midfield role just past the hour and is clearly a good ‘un.

Charlton’s old boys were no less impressive. Wilson’s goals and ceaseless industry speak for themselves, Michael Morrison put neither foot nor head wrong, youth products Cousins, Morgan Fox and Callum Harriott more than did their bit. And in 17-year old debutant Joe Gomez, Sparrows Lane has unearthed another diamond -and not just in the rough; even nominally out of position at right back, this one already sparkles. Trust Peeters to nurture his special talent carefully.

It was left to late substitute Simon Church to gild Charlton’s lily. Having replaced the out-of-luck Tucudean, he pounced on the hash made by Lewington in dealing with Gudmundsson’s long range potshot and poked Charlton’s fourth past the struggling keeper. The standing ovation, to which these promising Addicks departed, was richly deserved. It’s early days-of course it is- but, whisper it, we might be on to something!

Charlton: Henderson, Gomez, Morrison, Bikey, Fox, Wilson, Buyens (Gudmundsson 63), Harriott, Cousins, Moussa (Vetokele 60), Tucudean (Church 72). Not used: Pope, Nego, Pigott, Ben Haim.

Colchester: Lewington, Gilbey, Okuonghae (sent off), Moncur, Gordon, Clohessy, Eastman, Massey (Holman 46), Vose (Bean 29), Ibehere, Sears (Szmodics 63). Not used:Walker, Thompson, Kent, Curtis.

Referee: C. Breakspear. Att: 5,752.

Brentford 1 (Smith 85) Charlton 1 (Vetokele 64).

A point away from home on opening day normally justifies quiet satisfaction. And Bob Peeters won’t be displeased with either this result or Charlton’s performance at sardine-packed Griffin Park, where up-for-it Brentford were seeking to ride the wave of optimism which carried them out of League One last season. These newly promoted sides can be awkward handfuls until their novelty wears off and stark reality asserts itself.

Unfortunately, Peeters and a sparky, densely populated away end possibly quit the scene with the gnawing feeling that their useful point wasn’t quite reward enough. They will be haunted by the chance spurned by Callum Harriott with 12 minutes left which, if converted, would have finished off the game West Londoners and earned them all three. Leading 1-0 at the time, it was almost inevitable that the Addicks would live to regret his miss. Not to mention, while on the subject of misses, the wastefulness shown by by George Tucudean in hitting the legs of advancing goalkeeper David Button when played clear by Johann Berg Gudmundsson’s glorious first half pass.

Harriott’s opening was engineered by Igor Vetokele, one of seven starters making their Charlton debuts (Franck Moussa was introduced in added time to make it eight) whose unfamiliarity will eventually dissipate but who for the time being are virtual strangers. Football teams usually change through a subtle process of natural selection, involving the constant replacement of age by youth, with one door opening as another closes. Fans hardly notice it happening. This latest Charlton team, on the other hand, is the result not so much of osmosis but whatever the scientific opposite of osmosis happens to be. This current side hasn’t evolved. It’s more the product of reconstructive surgery. But it might work.

Sharp, mobile and competitive, Vetokele was, by a distance, the pick of the newcomers. Subdued during a first half mostly dominated by Brentford, he nonetheless caught the eye and came into his own after the interval. His first strike in Charlton’s colours was the clever downward header which sent Chris Solly’s fine cross back across David Button in text book fashion but was brilliantly tipped on to his left post by the goalkeeper’s plunging save. Hardly a towering centre forward, the 24 year-old Angolan international is deceptively good in the air, as he demonstrated in giving the Addicks a 64th minute lead, by beating Button to Johnnie Jackson’s wickedly inswinging corner and nodding past the outwitted keeper from close range.

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While the Bees were still coming to terms with a perceived sense of injustice, Vetokele’s ceaseless industry conjured the critical chance for lively substitute Harriott. Ruthlessly closing down a dawdling Button outside the penalty area, he winkled the ball clear for his teammate to shoot first time at an unguarded goal. Possibly hitting the ball too cleanly, Harriott’s drive bounced to safety off the underside of the crossbar and was collected by the desperately retreating Button. Time was already running out on Sam Warburton’s spirited side but a turning point had been reached. These Bees were still carrying a sting.

Enlivened by their escape, Brentford pressed for an equaliser and, with five minutes remaining, rode their luck in finding one. A suspicious hint of handball helped 78th minute substitute Tommy Smith to control a pass to the left of the visitors’ goal before a treacherous deflection off Talal Ben Haim sent his right-footed snapshot spinning past a wrongfooted Stephen Henderson. Shrewdly acquired by Warburton shortly before the season kicked off, the streetwise veteran would dispute any suggestion of luck, instead pointing out that fortune favours those willing to chance their arm in unpromising circumstances. He’s been doing it so for long now that it wouldn’t pay to argue with him.

However lucky Smith’s goal was, the force was with the home side in the waning minutes. South London hearts were almost broken when Jackson’s anxious foul on Nick Proschwitz gave busy midfielder Alex Pritchard an opportunity to nick the points from a perfectly located free kick. Henderson was well beaten as the ball clipped the bar on its way to safety. Before the whistle, Smith blasted a last kick chance wildly into the crowd.

Another of the new arrivals to impress, Henderson did his bit with two vital saves to keep Charlton level before Vetokele scored. His impressive first half acrobatics kept out Judge’s dangerously deflected effort before, in the second period, he duplicated Button’s save from Vetokele by diving to his left to turn aside Andre Gray’s accurately aimed header.

As yet another debutant at roasting Griffin Park, Peeters will hopefully sift more positives than negatives from a testing afternoon. He’s seen it all and he won’t need to be told that if you don’t take your chances, it costs you. But at least Charlton made chances, something you couldn’t often say last season. And in taking one of them, Igor Vetokele is already on his way to a rewarding relationship with his new fans. They can really work with that first name!

Brentford: Button, McCormack, Craig, Tarkowski, Bidwell, Dallas, Pritchard (Smith 78), Douglas, Odubajo (Tebar 46), Gray (Proschwitz 67), Judge. Not used: Lee, Dean, Yennaris, Moore. Booked: Douglas.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly, Bikey-Amougou, Ben Haim, Wiggins, Gudmundsson (Fox 90), Buyens, Jackson, Cousins (Moussa 90), Vetokele, Tucudean (Harriott 62). Not used: Pope, Wilson, Morrison, Pigott. Booked: Buyens.

Att: 9,619

Blackpool 0 Charlton 3 (Harriott 61, 82, 90).

Kevin Nolan reports from Bloomfield Road.

Championship salvation, after months of torture, was achieved by Charlton with unexpected elan, not to mention panache. Tuesday’s decisive win over Watford was followed by this second half romp beside a chilly Irish Sea. For the first time in nine sapping months, two victories were put back to back.

When the hour came, so did the man. An enigmatic winger, with only one FA Cup goal to his credit, Callum Harriott suddenly caught fire, possibly surprising nobody more than himself by banging in five superb goals in two games, while at the same time making nonsense of Charlton’s chronic inability to score. In doing so, he carved himself a small slice of club history but we’ll get to his heroics a bit later. The boy did real good.

From a perspective reaching back far too long to mention, this one qualifies as the most aggravating, gruelling season in personal memory, even including those where Charlton were actually relegated. Between their opening day defeat next to one beach (Bournemouth) and this Jolly Boys final day outing to another (Blackpool), the Addicks have resembled barefoot bathers stepping gingerly over sharp rocks and treacherous pebbles on their undignified way to the water. Their frequent howls of agony have been echoed by their long suffering supporters.

It was clear from the outset that the previous owners had no thought other than offloading a club, about which they had no feeling, for whatever price they could squeeze from a limited market before making themselves scarce as soon as bloody possible. They certainly had no intention of offering cherished manager Chris Powell so much as a gesture of assistance. Having consolidated his beloved club in the Championship during 2012-13, Powell was left to cope with a playing staff which, far from being strengthened, was actually weakened by the financially pragmatic departure of several key contributors. With rich irony, Charlton’s goal in the 2-1 defeat at Bournemouth was scored by Yann Kermorgant, a talismanic striker Powell would lose in controversial circumstances several months later. To more ambitious Bournemouth as it turned out.

The arrival of new head honcho Roland Duchatelet in January brought a new kind of revolution in its wake. Powell’s struggling squad was promptly “augmented” by an influx of unknown players from the new owner’s cartel of European clubs, with the reluctant manager apparently under pressure to use them in his first team. The demanded insertion of erratic French goalkeeper Yohann Thuram-Ulien forced the issue and Powell’s days – as if they hadn’t already been – were numbered. With the Addicks bottom of the Championship (we repeat a little wearily in the guvnor’s defence that they had four games in hand at the time), he was ungraciously shown the door of a stadium he had graced as player and manager. Powell had had his well-intentioned critics but there are those -and, hands up, I’m one of them – who will find it difficult to forget, much less forgive, Duchatelet’s casual disrespect.

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None of which detracts from the fine job that Powell’s replacement, Jose Riga, has done in guiding Charlton to Championship safety. Cool, civil and devoid of ego, he has deployed his resources intelligently, showing decisiveness in juggling a hopelessly tangled fixture list and, above all, holding his nerve. It’s with tongue wryly in cheek that it’s pointed out, however, that his starting line-ups for the Watford and Blackpool games included only one (Astrit Ajdarevic) of the “network” additions and that Thuram-Ulien must have missed the bus to Bloomfield Road. Those teams were solidly Charlton in their composition of Academy products and experienced campaigners (with Sordell and Ajdarevic the only loanees) and could have been selected by Powell. To his credit, Riga acknowledged as much with his own choices but even he would probably concede that his predecessor was ultimately vindicated.

So we move on as move on we must. Our great old club’s progress during the summer will be monitored even more carefully than usual because this past campaign has been a horror story which, at least, was qualified by a happy ending. It can’t be repeated. Apart from mentioning that relegated Barnsley might be persuaded to make Chris O’Grady dispensable, this reporter has been rendered speechless. Well, almost speechless.

Riga’s reaction has been admirably free of triumphalism, realising as he surely does, that a virtually last minute reprieve from relegation is nothing to celebrate. But he deserves sincere thanks and unstinting gratitude for his skilful contribution. Shame he probably won’t be around to build on it because he’d be welcomed on board again.

Back briefly to chilly Bloomfield Road and the force of nature that has been Callum Harriott during the past week. His brace of goals on Tuesday were stunning. The three which capsized Blackpool were less jaw-dropping but were tasty enough in their own right.

Just past the hour, Dorian Dervite powered forward to pick out Marvin Sordell, whose cute flick opened a gap into which Harriott darted to find the bottom left corner of Matt Gilks’ net; twenty minutes later, substitute Jonathan Obika left Chris Basham floundering on the left byline before laying on an accurate cutback which Harriott drove first time past Gilks; in added time, with his confidence soaring, the rampant winger combined cleverly with Joe Pigott, then chose his spot for a low, right-footed finish. His uninhibited flourish added a late lustre to the Addicks’ route march of a season. Damned if it didn’t restore faith. Can’t wait to get started again! Any more where they came from, Callum?

Blackpool: Gilks, McMahon, Cathcart, McGahey, Halliday, Basham (Barkhuizen 72), Osbourne, Perkins, Bishop (Grandin 84), Keogh (Fuller 68), Dobbie. Not used: Haroun, Halstead, Goodwillie, Martinez.

Charlton: Hamer, Wilson, Morrison, Dervite, Fox, Cousins (Petrucci 64), Poyet, Jackson, Ajdarevic (Obika 78), Harriott, Sordell (Pigott 87). Not used: Phillips, Church, Wood, Lennon. Booked: Petrucci, Harriott.

Referee: Kevin Friend. Att: 15,515 (1,335 visiting).

N.B. That’s another one in the can. Thanks to my sponsor, Grant Saw Wealth Management (Ian Starkey), Rob Powell at the helm of the website, Betty Hutchins who drives our matchday coach, our Hazel for setting the alarm accurately and, of course, to Charlton Athletic who, all seriousness aside, have driven me barmy over the last nine months. I wouldn’t have it any other way. See you at The Valley next season. No sense, no feeling, that’s my motto.

Charlton 3 (Harriott 22, 77, Jackson 69) Watford 1 (Deeney 60).

Kevin Nolan reports from The Valley.

Chill the criticism. Can the complaints. Continue the celebrations. Well, at least until this tortuous season, which has stretched on seemingly forever, is at long last over. Let’s surf a wave of sheer, blissful relief first before we deal with the harsh realities. Charlton have made it on to “the beach” or what passes for a beach at bracing Blackpool this weekend. That’s enough for the time being.

The unthinkable prospect of returning to the horrors of League One was purged in 90-plus pulsating minutes, in the throes of which of which an endearingly unlikely hero stepped forward. That hero would be Callum Harriott, who again veered wildly between the sublime and the ridiculous while producing two goals of rare quality. Boy, when he’s sublime, he borders on the ridiculous!

Urged on by a crowd which rose fanatically to the occasion, Charlton had been holding their own before Harriott made his first contribution. There had been an early scare when Ben Hamer barely beat Troy Deeney to an awkwardly lofted ball. For the anxious home side, meanwhile, Johnnie Jackson’s free kick stung Jonathan Bond’s hands, before his far post header from Chris Solly’s deep cross forced the young goalkeeper to shovel the skipper’s effort to safety. Shortly afterwards, Harriott set down his first marker with a great goal destined to be discussed and dissected ad infinitum. It was actually a pretty simple affair to which we’ll attempt to do justice.

Picking up possession in an inside left position and running directly at a wavering defence, the sturdy winger’s mind was made up by the absence of overlapping support outside him, where Morgan Fox’s understandable caution falls a little below Rhoys Wiggins’ barnstorming aggression. Short of viable options, Harriott took the initiative, let fly on the run from outside the area and buried a superb low drive precisely inside the right hand post. One of five Academy graduates in a side which included none of Roland Duchatelet’s network signings and only one loanee (Marvin Sordell), the sturdy kid had reinforced the value of organically grown products. Joe Pigott made it six from the bench when Jose Riga allowed Harriott his richly deserved moment in the spotlight two minutes from the end.

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Making a continual nuisance of himself, Deeney wasn’t going quietly. His raking volley was turned around by Hamer for a corner and led subsequently to a save which had us veterans pining for Gordon Banks in Mexico ’70. Meeting Daniel Tozser’s outswinger from eight yards, Essaid Belkalem’s ferocious downward header was virtually netted until a tumbling Hamer’s flailing right arm somehow diverted it up against the underside of his bar. Goals win matches; saves like this one make sure you don’t lose them.

It was Belkalem’s crude foul on Wilson before the break which removed any concern among Charlton’s relegation rivals that the Hornets were already on that mythical beach. The visitors were not above putting it about a bit and have the deplorable disciplinary record to prove it. Impeccably behaved Deeney was an honourable exception and it was his stroke of genius, on the hour, that re-introduced The Valley to its customary state of panic. Anticipating Dorian Dervite’s problems under an awkwardly skied ball, the prolific striker adjusted his feet expertly, then sent an exquisite 20-yard volley dipping neatly under the bar as a flying Hamer grasped thin air.

While the Addicks were still rocking, Deeney blasted Ikechi Anya’s short pass narrowly over the angle, at which critical point, the increasingly tetchy Albert Riera began making a regular cad of himself. His violent foul on Lawrie Wilson earned him the first of two yellow cards and his mood was hardly improved when the Hornets fell behind for the second time.
The latest testimony to Charlton’s youth assembly line, Fox delivered a cleverly curled cross from the left touchline for Jackson to meet with his usual gambling instinct inside the six-yard box. Having made a pig’s ear of his first effort, the captain’s captain found the ball waiting obediently for him to scramble past a startled Bond. Bit scruffy but they all count.

With 20 endless minutes still remaining, a third goal was, of course, imperative, which was where Harriott came in again. The estimable Jordan Cousins fed Wilson, the wide right midfielder crossed accurately, Harriott zipped a vicious low volley into the bottom right corner. And Bob was your uncle, Fanny your aunt, belligerent Riera their very naughty nephew. The recalcitrant midfielder showed his immaturity (he’s 32 and should know better), petulantly kicked the consistently excellent Diego Poyet, sassed the referee and took himself off to tell his side of the story to an empty dressing room. The points were safe by that time anyway so Riera wasn’t missed. And among things which also won’t be missed will be those familiar last-day agonies which turn men and women into fate’s playthings. Don’t need any of that. Best left to some other poor sods.

An exhausting route march of a season through a minefield of setbacks ends on Saturday at Blackpool. We do like to be beside the seaside and, with the pressure off, we’ll be setting off by coach, some of us as early as 3.50a.m. under the redoubtable Betty Hutchins’ expert stewardship (hopefully with the equally unsinkable Jean Tindall also on board). We’re a band of brothers and sisters. On the one road, sharing the one load.

Charlton: Hamer, Solly (Hughes 90), Morrison, Dervite, Fox, Wilson, Poyet, Cousins, Jackson, Harriott (Pigott 88), Sordell (Obika 67). Not used: Thuram-Ulien, Wood, Petrucci, Ajdarevic. Booked: Hughes.

Watford: Bond, Hoban, Belkalem, Doyley (Angella 52), Faraoni (Ranegie 15),  Anya, Battochio, Murray (Diakite 75), Tozser, Riera, Deeney. Not used: Woods, Merkel, Pudil, Jakubiak. Booked: Belkalem, Riera. Sent off: Riera.

Referee: D. Bond. Att: 15,815.

Charlton 1 (Sordell 54) Blackburn Rovers 3 (Gestede 26, Keane 51, Cairney 64).

Kevin Nolan reports from The Valley.

A clinical post-mortem on Charlton’s wretched season must obviously be deferred until the patient has actually passed on. At the moment, they are clinging to life and their prognosis actually offers hope. Whatever the outcome, though, the symptoms have been unpleasant.

Saturday’s routine defeat by Blackburn was yet another dismissal by superior opposition. Rovers have fallen short of the play-offs but they were too much for Charlton, whose focus near the end had sensibly shifted to the protection of the slender goal difference which promises to keep them in the Championship. To that end, Marvin Sordell’s clever strike and a stupendous last minute save by Ben Hamer might yet prove significant.

During the tacit search for three teams inferior to his own, Jose Riga has evolved into a cool arch-pragmatist. Without actually saying so, he downplays results considered dispensable, while concentrating on those deemed more likely. These are the manager’s comments, for instance, following the 3-0 licking by Brighton exactly two weeks ago. “We must face reality. We had an opponent on another level and we had to hope that with good organisation collectively we could take points.”

And here’s Riga in similar vein after this loss to Blackburn. “We played a team which hadn’t lost for 10 games and has made big results against big teams. Maybe they didn’t start the season this way but they are in a good mood at the moment.”

You wouldn’t infer from those less than stirring remarks that the Addicks received a clarion call to arms before either match. No doubt a more Churchillian approach will be adopted for Tuesday’s key game in hand against Watford. Beaches, highways, byways, the whites of their eyes… that sort of stuff.

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Strongly suspected of being merely a managerial stopgap, Riga inherited a thankless task from the airily discarded Chris Powell. Neither of them had any say in the strictly-business sale of Yann Kermorgant and Dale Stephens and still less control over their dubious replacements. The impact of six arrivals from Roland Duchatelet’s Continental empire has been, to say the least, less than profound. On second thoughts, let’s not say the least about them. Let’s loudly shout the odds instead.

The best of the new recruits has been “never quite fit” midfield ballplayer Astrit Ajdarevic, who can appear only in carefully prescribed doses: Reza Ghoochannejhad made a contribution with his wonderful winner at Leeds, promised the earth but settled for less: Loic Nego, Piotr Parzyszek have been invisible, Davide Petrucci mercifully used only in meaningless cameos, while the less said about fiery French revolutionary Yohann Thuram-Ulien perhaps the better. It’s reasonable to claim that were Kermorgant still at The Valley, Charlton wouldn’t be in the mess they’re in. Stephens would also walk into the side. And the club’s good name was compromised when Powell was treated with such cavalier disregard.

But, hey, steady the Buffs…stand fast the East Kents! The immediate priority is to stave off relegation and the Addicks are far from done for yet. Handed a huge favour by Reading (well done by the way, Nigel, you’re a true pal) at Doncaster, they could even lose both their outstanding games and still survive, assuming runaway champions Leicester do the decent thing by also knocking off Doncaster. That route to safety is hardly recommended but, c’mon, desperation makes beggars of us all. So we’ll be behind Kermorgant at Millwall next Saturday and, more immediately, Uwe Rosler at Birmingham on Tuesday, though it might be wise not to rely too much on Rosler. He’s in the throes of a choking fit right now.

Defeat by Blackburn, meanwhile, was largely uneventful, with the exception of the massive 39th minute talking point created by the award of a penalty to Charlton -only their second of the season – for Grant Hanley’s clumsy trip on Sordell. His job done, the much improved striker should have stepped aside for skipper Johnnie Jackson who, on the other hand, should have insisted the spotkick was his responsibility. Instead Sordell, despite his conspicuous lack of shooting power, was allowed to make a feeble mess of beating Paul Robinson from 12 yards. His failure gave us another reason to pine for big Yann. He wouldn’t have squandered the chance.

Trailing 1-0 at the time of Sordell’s painfully predictable miss, the Addicks could scarcely afford to kick such a gift horse in the teeth. They had acquitted themselves well until Callum Harriott lost possession, Josh King crossed and Rudy Gestede’s downward header crept inside the left hand post with Hamer slow to react.

Nine minutes after the break, Rovers piled on the agony with a second goal. Another free header, this one Michael Keane’s bullet from Craig Conway’s free kick, left Hamer helpless and the deficit too wide to manage.

Eager to redeem himself and showing a promising return to scoring form, Sordell had other ideas and promptly reduced Charlton’s arrears with a skilfully curled drive from the 18-yard line. Before the Addicks could press home their brief advantage, unfortunately, Blackburn just as ruthlessly quelled the rally. Sent away by Tom Cairney, King cut in from the left to find Jordan Rhodes, whose close range effort was heroically cleared off the line by Dorian Dervite with the rebound neatly sidefooted into an empty net by Cairney.

Before the relegation mathematics were adjusted, Hamer prevented the deduction of a possibly important goal by saving marvellously and instinctively from Gestede’s point blank header.

So the fight goes on. It’s no longer a marathon now, more of an excruciatingly laboured “sprint” being disputed by a painwracked group of four limping survivors, who hit personal walls miles ago. But it’s still advantage Charlton. Because it’s goals that count. Or more accurately those conceded by their rivals.

Charlton: Hamer, Solly, Morrison, Dervite. Fox, Cousins, Poyet, Jackson (Petrucci 82), Harriott (Ghoochannejhad 57), Adjarevic (Church 70), Sordell. Not used: Thuram-Ulien, Obika, Wood, Wilson. Booked: Fox.

Blackburn: Robinson, Keane, Hanley, Kilgallon, Olsson, King (Feeney 74), Cairney, Evans, Conway (Taylor 90), Gestede, Rhodes (Williamson 85). Not used: Rittenberg, Kane, Easton, Varney.

Referee: Michael Naylor. Att: 15,718.