Charlton 1 (Makienok 70) Nottingham Forest 1 (Osborn 44).

Against a backdrop of simmering unrest, Charlton’s injury-hit squad served touching notice that “their spirits have been bruised… never broken” by mounting a lively second half comeback against Nottingham Forest. And the crowds who congregated in protest outside The Valley’s main reception area before and after this somewhat sidetracked game made good their pledge to “back the team not the regime”. They stood firm behind this group of beleaguered players, saluted their effort, then turned their attention to the most important item of business on a sour them-and-us agenda.

Treated like beggars at the rich man’s gate, the rank-and-file gathered in noisy dissent, running through an extensive repertoire of songs and chants, most of them repeatable, some of them not for publication, several boasting newly inspired lyrics. Predictably they were all but ignored by the inner sanctum of VIPs, who were grateful, no doubt, for the wet weather that precluded the threatened sit-in. But the rebels refused to disperse until their point had been made, that point being that a club they considered their own was being led into possible extinction by an absentee owner to whom Charlton Athletic represented no more than a set of entries on a profit-and-loss sheet. Hunkered down in his Brussels bunker, Roland Duchatelet was unavailable for comment. You’d get more comment from a Trappist monk than the reticent Roland.

Left to convey rare messages from her boss, most of them like-it-or-lump it nuggets of diplomacy, CEO Katrien Miere has a thankless task. Possibly wisely, she declined the opportunity to address the rabble in a charismatic Eva Peron-styled attempt to win them over. No offers of cake and ale were made, no promises of reform on the General’s behalf. A mob was forming in the plaza and establishment heads were being kept below the ramparts. There was to be no balcony appearance on this lowering, bleak evening. Do your own dirty work, Juan, she was heard to murmur, this lot’s being led by Che Guevara. And we all know which one he is, right?

But back to the football, which at least provided a crumb of comfort. Down 1-0 to ordinary Forest, the Addicks fought back to equalise in the 70th minute, survived the dismissal of substitute Tareiq Holmes-Dennis and came within a whisker of snatching all three points when the impressive Callum Harriott, prudently called back from his loan spell at Colchester, forced a spectacular save off Dorus De Vries’ fingertips with a jet-powered rocket from 25 yards.

It was rousing stuff which banished memories of a first half combining tedium and frustration. Once again Charlton were neither better nor worse than mediocre opposition, who matched their dross and drudgery.

Attempts on goal were mutually non-existent and there was more edge at the Nell Gwynn tea rooms until, almost inevitably, the visitors scored in the last minute. Surprisingly, Ben Osborn’s 18-yard strike, brilliantly bent away from Stephen Henderson’s reach into the top right corner, stood out sharply in this dreary context. A resigned crowd could hardly summon the energy to complain. The abuse aimed at “head coach” Karel Fraeye was almost halfhearted. It wasn’t entirely his fault, anyway.

Taking over from the invisible El-Hadji Ba for the second half, Johann Berg Gudmundsson injected immediate pace and purpose. It was, however, the indefatigable Jordan Cousins, still surprisingly only 21, who drove Charlton on. Always prepared to sacrifice his ego to the the team’s welfare, the local lad covered, tackled and prompted with manic intensity. The power header which soared over Forest’s central defence and was toed goalward by Simon Makienok, typified his all-out effort. Shame DeVries reacted instinctively to turn the improvised shot to safety.

Relishing his rebirth as an Addick, meanwhile, Harriott was busy justifying his second chance. After Harry Lennon’s fine last ditch tackle foiled Ryan Mendes and Henderson saved smartly from Nelson Oliveira, the winger produced a moment of inspiration which led to parity. Following another driving run by Cousins, his delicately delivered ball from the left flank curled behind Matt Mills and this time Makienot’s lanky leg extended just enough to turn a richly deserved equaliser past DeVries and in off the right post. Maybe this relegation battle ain’t quite as cut and dried as we thought, after all.

There was still time for Harriott to sting the DeVries’ palms with an impossibly angled rocket before detonating the last gasp volley, to which the Dutch keeper reacted superbly. Despite their numerical disadvantage, Charlton had finished more strongly and can draw heart from their improvement.

Whether the same can be said of their frustrated fanbase is debatable. Management’s reluctance to engage them in reasonable conversation might well return to haunt them because if you refuse to learn from history, you’re doomed to repeat its mistakes, isn’t that what they say? A glance through “Battle for the Valley” could alert them to what they’re up against. Its author is still around. In fact, he’s very much around. Cojones? Made of steel. Backbone? Ramrod straight. Nerve? Unwavering to date. But always ready to talk. It’s revolutionary but could be worth a try, Katrien.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly, Lennon, Sarr, Fox, Harriott, Cousins, Jackson (Holmes-Dennis 65), Ba, (Gudmundsson 46), Makienot, Vaz Te (Williams 79). Not used: Pope, Ceballos, Ghoochannejhad, Moussa. Booked: Holmes-Dennis. Sent off: Holmes-Dennis.

Att: 16,090 ( 2562 visiting).

Charlton 0 Wolves 2 (Graham 52, Lennon o.g. 83).

A spontaneous eruption of desperation, disillusionment and dejection, immediately after Charlton fell behind to Wolves in the 52nd minute, briefly electrified The Valley yesterday. Hopelessly out of sync with this lifeless game, it began in the North Stand, where black-and-white scarved mutineers rose to their feet and invited the rest of a kids-for-a-quid crowd to “Stand up if you want them out!” There was no need to name the targets of their displeasure. A state of war already exists between fans and hierarchy at this great old club.

The response from the East and West Stands was all but unanimous. Young and old, male and female, they stood in defence of their democratic right to protest and made their point with dignity and restraint. In doing so, they exposed as ridiculous the claim contemptuously made by CEO Katrien Miere that no more than 2% of Charlton’s fans are unhappy with her guvnor’s master plan. There was no vilification of those who chose not to join the stand-in, nor was there any gratuitous descent into the personal abuse which has undermined recent demonstrations. There’s a noble tradition of public protest in this our green and pleasant land and its peaceful principles were by and large respected.

Breath will not be bated while management’s response is awaited. Their default position mimics that of the ostrich, who, myth has it, rides out crises by burying its head in the sand. Bonce below ground, Roland apparently knows best and if you don’t like it, you are advised to lump it. But he would be unwise to underestimate the stamina and organisation of an intelligent fanbase which galvanised into decisive action when the club was forced out of its home 25 years ago. They scared the establishment out of its corporate life back then and many of the veterans of that people’s uprising are still around.

The first half of this latest nail in Charlton’s relegation coffin was just what the powers-that-be ordered to keep the peace. It’s hard to recall anything of note occurring although it’s worth noting that Wolves contributed fully to the dross on display. They were the perfect opponents for a relegation-threatened side but the Addicks were dismally incapable of exploiting their medocrity. In the mighty Chris Solly, however, they did number among them the game’s outstanding performer. Solly is the very model of the modern professional footballer, one incapable of giving anything other than his best, whatever the circumstances.

The latest setback in Charlton’s injury-hit season, meanwhile, saw Ademola Lookman withdrawn with hamstring trouble and replaced by the somewhat larger Simon Makienok, who promptly made an impact by mowing down referee Keith Hill. It was Makienok who forced the early second half corner, which Harry Lennon spectacularly botched and from which David Edwards sent Jordan Graham away to curl narrowly wide. It was a warning which went unheeded.

Possibly shaken by the escape, Lennon was unable to control the physical presence of Benik Afobe, who cleverly turned the young centre back before crossing hard and low from the right. An involuntary touch from Naby Sarr was parried by Stephen Henderson to the feet of Graham, who finished emphatically from close range. The vocal protest that followed was an unplanned reaction to yet more adversity.

During the din, Afobe came close to doubling Wolves’ lead but Henderson turned aside his low drive. At the other end, Morgan Fox broke through on the left but Ricardo Vaz Te and Reza Ghoochannejhad made like colliding Keystone Cops in their efforts to convert the left back’s inviting cross. Their mutual ineptitude successfully protected the Addicks’ clean sheet of shots on target. No other entry troubled this reporter’s notebook.

It remained only for the visitors to finish Charlton off and, with seven minutes remaining, that detail was taken care of. Graham’s deep left wing corner was turned into his own goal by young Lennon, under the looming far post presence of Danny Baath.

Without a win now in seven games, the Addicks nervously face the New Year, as did Downton Abbey the challenging arrival of 1925 on the telly. The Earl and Lady Grantham (family name: Chambers-Pottes) were worried, like Charlton, about the immediate future. But at least their gels were suitably married to corking chaps who knew the difference between a soup spoon and the one you use for afters.

Below stairs, meanwhile, the lower orders began timorously to emerge from their entombment and sniff the sweet air of freedom. They were surprised to discover that Ramsey McDonald’s first ever Labour government was already in power and it’s going to take all of Cheerful Charlie Carson’s formidable nostril-flaring disdain to stem the rising tide of bolshevism. And the poor old sod’s got the shakes. You’d still back him, though, to have the 12-hour day re-instated in no time at all. As students, no doubt, of Downton Abbey, Roly and Katrien will pine for a day when the English peasantry knew their place and were not permitted to congregate in public. No need for them to worry because they’re going about things the right way. Pretty soon, Charlton will be struggling to raise a quorum as they fight relegation from League One.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly, Sarr, Lennon, Fox (Ceballos 80), Ahearne-Grant, Ba, Jackson, Vaz Te, Ghoochannejhad (Holmes-Dennis 66), Lookman (Makienok 45). Not used: Pope, Charles-Cook, Muldoon, Mouussa. Booked: Lennon.

Wolves: Ikeme, Doherty, Edwards, Baath, Ebanks-Landell, Henry (Byrne 71), McDonald, Coady, Iorfa, Graham, Afobe. Not used: McCarey, Golbourne, Wallace, Ojo, Sigurdson, LeFondre.

Referee: Keith Hill (Matthew Buonassisi).

Att: 18,059.

Charlton 2 (Lookman 1,26) Bolton Wanderers 2 (Heskey 32, Vela 42).

Misery heaps on misery at Charlton right now. Handed a “gimme” in the shape of stricken Bolton Wanderers, winners of only one league game this season and a club with a 12-point administration penalty hanging over them, they managed to blow a two-goal lead again and ended up drawing a game they had briefly at their mercy. They’re bright as buttons up front but their defending has to be seen to be believed. And even then, it frequently defies belief.

Galvanised by the quicksilver attacking trio of Ademola Lookman, Reza Ghoochannejhad and Ricardo Vaz Te, the Addicks dished out to last-placed Bolton the same early blitzkrieg they inflicted on table-topping Brighton recently. They were in front inside 26 seconds, with all three livewires contributing to the goal. When Wanderers’ kick-off was routinely played back to Jay Spearing, the visitors were caught flatfooted as Ghoochannejhad hustled possession from Spearing before sending Vaz Te running aggressively through the inside left channel. Timing his release perfectly, the former Trotter’s pass set up Lookman on his left to take a steadying touch before driving low across Ben Amos into the far corner.

Charlton’s second goal on 26 minutes was equally incisive and again involved their three offensive amigos. A quick free kick from Chris Solly was deliciously backheeled by Ghoochannejhad to make space for Vaz Te’s fiercely driven low cross from the left byline. Unmarked beyond the far post, Lookman’s adhesive control gave him time to finish nonchalantly from close range. It was all too good to be true and as Charlton almost visibly stepped back to admire their handiwork, their victims re-grouped.

Amid all the handwringing over the familiar disintegration which bedevilled the home side, a little credit must surely be found for Bolton, who sensed the mood of apprehension inside a still cautious Valley. They kept their heads, passed patiently and gamely worked their way back into what seemed briefly to be a lost cause. Before the interval, they were level again. And to be fair, it was far from surprising.

Leading the Trotters’ fightback was venerable Emile Heskey, who you might recall scoring in England’s historic 5-1 rout of Germany in Munich as long ago as September 2001. With his 38th birthday less than a month away, he provided a masterclass in target play. Both Alou Diarra and young Harry Lennon were helpless in the air against the old codger and as they instinctively retreated, Heskey found increasing space to get the ball down and bring his colleagues into the game. Six minutes after Lookman’s second strike, he even produced a rare goal to reduce the deficit.

A thorn in Charlton’s side all evening, tricky right winger Liam Feeney was proving to be a rare handful for Tareiq Holmes-Dennis. With the ability to go past the struggling full back on both sides, he stepped inside him all too easily to cross with his unfavoured left foot. The faintest of touches by Heskey, as Stephen Henderson and his central defenders froze, turned the dipping ball inside the left post.

With Charlton’s confidence ephemeral at the best of times, such as they are, Neil Lennon’s amateur warriors sought to exploit the nervewracked situation. Highly regarded youngster Zach Clough broke clear but was denied by Henderson’s resourceful save but Wanderers’ newly found persistence paid off before the break. Clough’s low ball from the right pinballed around before Johann Berg Gudmundsson’s partial clearance reached Josh Vela trailing the action some 25 yards from goal. The midfielder’s crisp, first-time drive skimmed the grass and found the left corner despite Henderson’s sprawling attempt to keep it out.

Still fancied to put matters right in the second half, the Addicks disappointingly produced little or nothing to trouble Amos. Lennon’s header sent Johnnie Jackson’s inswinging corner forcibly into the turf and bounced to safety off the crossbar but apart from a couple of off-target efforts from Gudmundsson, their threat was puny. A flurry of late corners at the other end, meanwhile, caused anxiety, but Bolton were as satisfied as Charlton were frustrated by the stalemate and the end-to-end game of the first half petered out into anonymity.

Sucked back into the relegation morass as MK Dons overtook them, the beleaguered Karel Fraeye will bitterly regret the opportunity missed to put a little daylight between his side and their equally desperate rivals. Due at Burnley on Saturday, where they will travel in hope but where the definitive 3-0 walloping looms, the Boxing Day engagement at Bristol City assumes critical importance. They may well survive again this season but it can’t go on, can it? League One threatens every season like the sword which hung over that bloke called Damocles. I might be muddling my classical references a bit but you take my point.

Charlton: Henderson, Solly, Diarra, Lennon, Holmes-Dennis, Cousins, Gudmundsson (Ba 70), Jackson (Ahearne-Grant 80), Vaz Te, Goochannejhad, Lookman (Makienot 60). Not used: Pope, Sarr, Bergdich, Fox. Booked: Ghoochannejhad, Lennon, Ba.

Att: 12,294 (415 visiting).

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.

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.

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).

BRITISH number one Andy Murray recorded a straight sets win against David Ferrer at the O2 today in his first match of this year’s Barclays ATP World Tour Finals.

Playing in front of a packed arena, Murray defeated the Spaniard 6-4 6-4 in an entertaining match that lasted a shade over 1 hr 30 minutes. If Murray goes on to win his next match on Wednesday, he’ll finish the year as the World No 2.

The end-of-year tournament sees the top eight male players play a round robin format in two groups with the semi finals and the final taking place next weekend. It’s the seventh time that the World Tour Finals have been held at the O2 and organisers have announced that the tournament will be staying at the Greenwich venue, which has a capacity of 17,800, until 2018 at least.

Tournament Chairman Chris Kermode commented: “We are delighted to have reached an agreement which will see the tournament celebrate its 10th successive year in London in 2018. The tournament has been a spectacular success since moving to The O2 in 2009, generating record crowds, incredible atmospheres, and a soaring worldwide TV audience which broke the 100 million mark for the first time last year.”

He added: “The O2 has enabled us to present the sport in a new and vibrant way, in a media-friendly time zone, and in one of the world’s greatest cities. For us, there is currently no better place to stage our season-ending event.”

Coming just days after the events in Paris, enhanced security measures have been introduced with all bags brought into the venue searched and food and drink no longer permitted in the arena itself. The French tricolor flag has been displayed on an electronic display by the O2 entrance and on a large screen in Peninsula Square.

The action continues on Tuesday with Berdych v Nishikori in the afternoon session and a mouth-watering clash between Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic in the evening.

Murray will secure his year-ending position as World Number 2 if he wins his next match in the tournament (Pic: Vickie Flores)

The Scot had won 11 of his previous 17 matches with Ferrer. (Pic: Vickie Flores)

The Fan Zone is free to enter and includes practice courts, a Ricoh serve test machine, mini-tennis area, coffee shop, sponsor stands and a merchandise shop.

Visitors to the O2 passed a French tricolor in Peninsula Square

Enhanced security measures are in place at the O2 with all bags searched.

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.