Having set a war-weary nation alight by reaching the first two peacetime Cup Finals, in the second of which they won the fabled trophy for the first and only time in their colourful history, a charitable veil is drawn over Charlton’s subsequent Cup record. A pair of quarter-final appearances represents the height of their achievements. Since 1947, they haven’t featured in the semi-final draw.

Once the Wembley glamour faded, Jimmy Seed’s bread-and-butter preoccupation was to maintain the club’s position in Division One. Against considerable odds, he was successful for eleven seasons, during which their fifth place finish in 1952-53 stands out. Relegation was staved off under desperate circumstances in 1949-50, when two goals by the peerless Charlie Vaughan in a 2-0 victory over Birmingham City at The Valley on April 22nd 1950, saved the Addicks at the expense of their doomed visitors. Respectable, if unexciting, mid-table positions were normally achieved without undue drama.

Scorer of 94 League and Cup goals in 238 appearances, Vaughan was 27 years old when he made a scoring debut in a 3-0 victory over Brentford at The Valley on March 22nd 1947. It’s reasonable to assume that he would have established a club scoring record if the Second World War hadn’t sidelined his promising career. Hook-nosed and bandy-legged, Charlie was just one of a galaxy of outstanding players who graced the red shirt in the late 40s and early 50s. A pool of talented South Africans, of whom Eddie Firmani, Sid O’Linn, John Hewie and the extravagantly gifted Stuart Leary were the pick, was scouted by Seed’s astute brother Angus and played with great distinction at top flight level. Charlton’s late, great historian Colin Cameron rated Leary the best Charlton player he ever saw, a position he stoutly maintained despite spirited counter claims on Vaughan’s behalf by your author.

Flamboyant goalkeeper Sam Bartram was in his pomp, Frank Lock a flawless left back, Billy Kiernan a diminutive, gravity-defying left winger. In January 1951, with the Addicks in dire trouble near the bottom of Division One, a blond-haired Swedish buccaneer named Hans Jeppson arrived among them, scored 9 goals in 11 league games, including a hat-trick in a 5-2 demolition of Arsenal at Highbury, then with his rescue mission completed, disappeared into a phone box on March 31st 1951 and departed as mysteriously as he’d arrived.

There were other stars, none more brilliant than urbane centre half and captain Derek Ufton, few more ruthless than slide-tackling right back Jimmy “Jock” Campbell but cracks were beginning to appear. A disastrous start to the 1956-57 campaign featured five consecutive losses, the fifth of them a record 8-1 defeat by Sunderland at Roker Park on September 1st 1956, and brought the panicky dismissal of legendary boss Seed after 22 seasons in charge and the appointment of assistant Jimmy Trotter, his former playing colleague at Sheffield Wednesday, in his place. The worthy Trotter, better suited to training rather than managing, proved unable to halt the slide and Charlton finished hopelessly bottom of Division One, ten points adrift from safety. Returning from a selfless stint spent fighting for the future of Cyprus as an overpriced, sometimes violent holiday destination, a recently demobbed Royal Corps of Signals National Serviceman found Bartram retired, Seed sacked and Charlton relegated. To be fair, his was probably not the only life blighted by the experience. But that’s what you get for turning your back for a bit.

In 1957-58, a gallant effort was made to regain First Division status at the first attempt. A freewheeling season, which saw 105 league goals scored while 93 were conceded, included the legendary 7-6 epic involving Huddersfield Town, about which myth and magic have been woven and about which nothing new remains to be said. 5-1 down with 28 minutes to play, reduced to 10 men following the permanent withdrawal of Ufton, the Addicks forged ahead 6-5, were pegged back at 6-6, then won 7-6 in the last minute. The five goals scored by Johnny Summers on that incredible December 21st afternoon, in front of only 12,535 spectators, won this greathearted forward a special place in club folklore. Johnny died from cancer several years later. His memory is undimmed. Happily, Derek Ufton lives on.

Sadly, the heroic deeds of the Huddersfield 10 ended in failure in the last game of the season, at home to Blackburn Rovers, in front of a massive 56,435 crowd at The Valley on April 26th, 1958. Needing only a draw to pip Blackburn to second place behind champions West Ham, Charlton went ahead through Fred Lucas’ early header but found themselves 3-1 behind at half-time. A 62nd minute penalty by Bryan Douglas increased Rovers’ lead before goals from Peter Firmani (76) and John Hewie (83,pen) made it 4-3 and turned the famous ground into a pulsating cockpit of emotion. Under Ronnie Clayton’s inspired captaincy, the besieged visitors clung on gamely to earn promotion and were sportingly saluted by Trotter as “the better side.”

Entrenched as a Second Division Two side for 14 more mainly undistinguished seasons until the humiliation of relegation to the Third Division in 1971-72 under Theo Foley’s management, Charlton were, to some extent at least, broken by the heartbreak of 1958. With the exception of a stirring, but ultimately unsuccessful, promotion bid in 1968-69, the 60s were largely forgettable, as they certainly were for this correspondent who spent them in California. We’ll piece them together in Part Four of The Potted History of Charlton Athletic….

Welling United 0 Charlton 5 (Pigott 2, 14, 38, Kermorgant 40, Green (pen) 83.

Kevin Nolan reports from Park View Road.

This sports-daft nation of ours had almost more than it could handle over the weekend as the thrills came thick and fast. Be fair, it was hard to keep up with the drama.

First there was the rare pleasure of watching the Aussies being chewed up and spat out by rugby’s Welsh Lions (helped out here and there by the occasional foreigner). My personal highlight actually arrived a week earlier when George North slung that large Antipodean over his shoulder, briefly forgot he was there but remembered in time that the rules called for him to set the poor sod down gently and make him a nice cup of tea. George was an absolute gent about it.

A brief pause to catch the breath before, a little over 24 hours later, Andy Murray squared off with Novak Djokovic -as they seem destined to do regularly in the immediate future- at Wimbledon. Apparently 77 years of hurt were ended by Andy’s thoroughly deserved victory, although I can honestly say I haven’t been personally suffering. Until I recalled that I’d backed him to win in four sets. Not his fault, though, it’s down to that bloody Djokovic not being able to put his name on even one set.

But sandwiched between the starters and the afters came the piece de resistance when Charlton popped up in the usual, chaotic, sundazed conditions of Park View Road to fulfil their annual commitment to swell Welling United’s coffers. A surprisingly fit-looking complement of 22 players was divided into two 45-minute teams and recorded victories of 4-0 and 1-0 respectively over the last year’s Blue Square South champions.

The first of the sides – one which, with a tweak or two- shapes up as Chris Powell’s preferred selection, brushed aside the somewhat outclassed Wings. A sharp hat-trick from young Joe Pigott launched Charlton’s new campaign and served notice that if the club’s finances shackle Powell’s activities in the transfer market, last season’s triumphant U-21 squad might pick up some of the slack.

Pigott’s genuine hat-trick of three consecutive goals featured a shrewd lob, a raking low drive and still another clever lob. All of his goals were assisted by Yann Kermorgant, who added a ruthless fourth before the interval. An injury to the talismanic Frenchman doesn’t bear thinking about.

Worthy of mention also were impressive goalkeeper Nick Pope and confident left back Morgan Fox, both ambitious teammates of Pigott in Nathan Jones’ talented, trophy-winning team. Standing up for the veterans, Chris Solly resumed in exactly his fine form of last season, skipper Johnnie Jackson exuded authority in central midfield and the insatiably hardworking Bradley Pritchard warmed the cockles with his selfless industry.

Almost predictably, Charlton’s “second string” struggled to maintain the momentum in the second half. In fact the pick of the Addicks was keeper David Button, who produced two fine saves from Lee Clark and Kiernan Hughes-Mason, then rode his luck as Joe Healy’s header rebounded off the bar. Only Danny Green’s successful penalty, awarded for Blaine Hudson’s handball relieved the tedium. Still, 5-0 away from home- it was almost like playing Barnsley. Not nearly as memorable, of course.
Now for the Ashes on Wednesday at Trent Bridge, where England will have to go it alone without any Welshmen (but plenty of former colonials) in their line-up. It seemed a bit of a stroll just a couple of weeks ago but the Aussies have pulled themselves together and are looking all leathery and lantern-jawed again. If nothing else, we’ll be reminded that  20-20  should never be confused with cricket.

Charlton (first half 4-4-2): Pope, Solly, Wood, Morrison, Fox, Pritchard, Jackson, Hughes, Harriott, Pigott, Kermorgant.
Charlton (2nd half 4-5-1): Button, Wilson, Dervite, Cort, Evina, Green, Stephens, Gower, Hollands, Cook, Smith.
Referee: Ian Crouch.
Att: 2,140.

Kevin Nolan’s Match Report is brought to you in association with , 294 Burnt Ash Hill, London, SE12 0QD.

After taking over the management of a team which had finished bottom of Third Division (South) in 1932-33, Jimmy Seed’s immediate priority was to lift morale, halt the slide and begin a systematic re-building process. A satisfactory fifth place finish in 1933-34, only two points behind promoted Coventry City, represented a solid start but gave little warning of the record-breaking run of success which would catapult Charlton from the Third Division to the First Division within two stunning seasons.

A sobering 2-1 loss to Cardiff City kicked off the 1934-35 campaign but was quickly followed by five consecutive victories as The Addicks found their form. On October 27th, a 2-1 victory over Clapton Orient at The Valley announced the arrival of marksman Ralph Allen, who claimed both of the goals on his way to a club record of 32 league goals in 28 games. Allen’s brief Charlton career statistics featured 48 goals scored in only 54 games.

The Third Division championship was clinched with an eight-point margin over Reading, the prolific Allen receiving stout scoring support from Harold Hobbis (15), George Robinson (12) and Jimmy Wilkinson (10) as 103 league goals were rattled in. But it was the debuts of two players destined to become legendary Addicks, which added even more significance to the season.

A native of Simonside, Co. Durham, flame-haired goalkeeper Sam Bartram’s iconic status was established over 22 seasons with the club, during which he made 623 first team appearances, interrupted by World War Two. Seed and Bartram became synonomous with Charlton Athletic, their departures under vastly different circumstances in 1956 signalling the end of a rampaging era. Still revered as the most popular player ever to wear the famous red shirt (or green roll-neck in his case), Sam’s statue continues to guard the ground he helped to make famous.

Prematurely balding forward Don Welsh joined from Torquay United, quickly assumed the captaincy and served with distinction during Charlton’s most productive period. His major accomplishment was to lead the team to the first two post-war Cup finals. He also earned several England international caps, an honour which was scandalously denied his charismatic teammate.

Running Manchester United close (one point separated them) in the race for the 1935-36 Second Division title, the Addicks made triumphant work of their brief stay in the division, securing promotion to the First Division with a nervy 1-1 draw at Port Vale in their last league game. Scorer of the vital goal was ever-present left winger Hobbis, one of 23 he contributed during their barnstorming progress. Both Bartram and Welsh were by now regulars in the side.

Completely undaunted by their lofty surroundings, Charlton distinguished themselves in their inaugural season in the First Division with a second place finish to champions Manchester City. Disastrous defeats by Derby County (5-0) and Chelsea (3-0) in March meant they finished three points behind City but they had fared rather better than Manchester United, who were relegated back to Division Two. A worthy successor to Allen had been found, meanwhile, in George Tadman, who scored 11 times in 29 league games on his way to a three-season record of 47 goals in 87 games. He added three in six Cup ties and was bureacratically denied two more league goals in the aborted 1939-40 campaign.

Having set their standards so high, Charlton could be said to have gone backwards with a fourth place finish in 1937-38 but rallied to place third in the last completed season before the war. Their meteoric rise was the stuff of comic book fantasy and it’s a matter of conjecture where it might have led them but for the belligerent interruption of Hitler and his testicularly challenged henchmen.

Qualification for two Wartime Cup (South) finals at Wembley, the first lost 7-1 to Arsenal, the second a 3-1 victory over Chelsea, were harbingers of their historic appearances in the 1946 and 1947 peacetime finals. The first cup run featured, for the first and only time in the FA Cup, two-legged ties, during which Charlton became a quiztime teaser by becoming the only club to have lost a cup-tie but also to have reached the final; in the third round, they beat Fulham 3-1 at The Valley, before losing the second leg 2-1 at Craven Cottage. In an emotional first Cup final for seven years, they were outlasted by Derby County 4-1 after extra time, with Welsh international wing-half Bert Turner making history by scoring at both ends.

In 1947, the year it became personal for your author, Charlton proved to be the scourge of the North on their way back to Wembley. In successive rounds, they beat Rochdale (3-1), West Bromwich Albion (2-1), Blackburn Rovers (1-0) and Preston North End (2-1) before confronting moneybags Newcastle United ( with Jackie Milburn and Len Shackleton in their ranks) in a dramatic semi-final at Elland Road. With half the team stricken overnight by food poisoning, the heroic Addicks took the Tynesiders apart 4-0 with goals from Tommy Dawson, Welsh (2) and Gordon Hurst. In the 85th minute, their ecstatic supporters serenaded them with an impromptu rendition of the current hit song, which just happened to be “Give me five minutes more”. Two-goal Welsh later collapsed in the dressing room.

The 1947 Cup Final, played in blistering heat at Wembley on April 26th, suffered in comparison. Readily forgotten by all but its modest participants (not to mention an undeserving 10 year old kid from Downham who, to date, has declined to apologise to the fan he deprived of a coveted ticket), a dire game was limping to a dreaded replay until, with seven minutes of extra-time remaining, Bill Robinson crossed from the right, Welsh managed a faint, headed touch and free-scoring Scottish left winger Chris Duffy nearly burst Burnley’s net with a volley struck with a right foot normally used purely for balance. In an era noted for self-consciously restrained celebrations (“let’s not forget the plucky losers!”), Duffy’s hysterical reaction was ground-breaking. Running manically downfield, he hurled himself headlong into the welcoming arms of left back Jack Shreeve to commune with the big Geordie. Regardless of its aesthetic limitations, the 1947 Cup Final remains, for the hopelessly hooked kid we agreed earlier not to mention, the best game of football ever seen by mortal man. And he’ll fight anyone who says different.

At which high point, we conclude Part Two of Charlton’s potted history. More stormy chapters, involving Johnny Summers, decline, recovery, eviction, South Norwood, local politics, Colin Walsh, further Wembley heroics and beating Arsenal 4-2 at Highbury are expected to feature in the next instalment…

This six-part history of Charlton Athletic is biased, prejudiced and one-sided. No claim is made to unerring accuracy because the passing of time fogs the memory and football fans remember what they choose to remember anyway.

A game effort was made to check statistics against those supplied by good old Colin Cameron, a mine of information now closed to us as most mines have been. He didn’t object to a spot of cheerful plagiarism here and there. All opinions and conclusions, on the other hand, are my own so feel free to disagree with any or all of them. Honestly, I don’t mind.

In anticipation of a pedants’ revolt, I hold my hands up to a little personal vagueness in dealing with the middle 50s and the entire 60s decade, for which I offer an explanation, if not an apology.

The National Service years from 1955 to 1957 were spent in Cyprus, where I selflessly joined my mates in proving conclusively that war doesn’t necessarily have to be hell. Not when there’s a sparkling ocean, glorious sunshine and a golden beach on which to skive.

Possibly sulking to find, on demob in August 1957, Sam Bartram retired, Jimmy Seed fired and Charlton relegated, the lure of Southern California proved irresistible. The 60s were devoted to raising kids on the West Coast and completely missing the point of Jefferson Airplane’s White Rabbit. I understand there wasn’t much fun to be had following Charlton in my absence.

Anyway, there it is, from Porky Bonner to Yann Kermorgant in six breathless instalments, the nutshelled story of a unique football club. Though it has its serious side, it might be a good idea to stick your tongue firmly in your cheek while wading through it. You could say that Thomas Hardy had it upside down when he claimed that “war makes rattling good history but peace is poor reading.” It seems to me that football takes up the slack from war and makes rattling good history in peace time, when possibly it matters more. That’s MY story and I’m sticking to it.

Kevin Nolan -June 2013.

The way things have been going lately, you could be forgiven for thinking that Charlton Athletic is all about internal strife, financial gloom and pub rumours. It prides itself on being a family club but it seems, at times, fatally split down the middle. Like many families, come to think about it.

It wasn’t always this way. Not back in 1905, anyway, when a bunch of 16 and 17 year old kids were encouraged by two local youth missions to form a new football club down on Eastmoor Street in an area now dominated by the Thames Barrier. They were singleminded chaps who, without any shilly-shallying, elected to call themselves Charlton Athletic and to play in red shirts This band of brothers clearly started as they meant to go on.

An advertisement in the Kentish Independent, which described their standard as “medium strength” swelled the initial ranks and with support from local publican Harry Wells, the new team opened their account with a 6-1 victory over Sivertown Wesley United on Siemens Meadow in December 1905.

Among the line-up was a husky outside right called William George Bonner, better known to his mates as “Porky”, who went on to make his mark in club history by scoring their first competitive goal in a 6-1 mauling of Nunhead Swift Reserves on September 22nd 1906, by which time the newcomers were members of Lewisham League Division Three.

Porky died in Lee in 1954 but remains connected to the famous club he helped create through successive generations of his family, who continue to hold season tickets at The Valley. West Stand regular Terry Bennett grew up on his colourful grandad’s footballing stories, not to mention his important contribution as a Royal Artillery cook during World War 1. Apparently Porky’s notorious dumplings caused untold havoc when lobbed across No Mans Land into enemy lines. “Probably shortened the war,” recalled their modest creator.

In 1910, the club’s chairmanship was taken over by Arthur “Ikey” Bryan, an enterprising fish ‘n chip entrepreneur reputedly responsible for their mysterious but jealously guarded nickname. Clearly not the full shilling on match days, Ikey took to turning up at games with a haddock pinned to a pole. The story goes that haddock morphed colloquially into ‘addock, then further into ‘addick. It might, on the other hand, be explained by the simple erosion of Athletic but Ikey Bryan’s endearing lunacy has the virtue of uniqueness and meets with almost universal approval. So the Addicks they became and the Addicks they remain.

Porky Bonner had left the playing staff by 1911 when a critical development two miles down river from Eastmoor Street cemented Charlton’s place as the region’s premier football club. They were more than interested spectators as the questionable machinations of Woolwich Arsenal FC chairman Sir Henry Norris moved the powerhouse Arsenal lock, stock and gun barrel across the Thames into the North London bailiwick of Tottenham Hotspur, where they remain to this day as a thorn in Spurs’ side. Norris’ provocative action paled into insignificance alongside the infamous backroom chicanery which promoted Arsenal to the First Division in 1919 at the expense of their outmanouevred new neighbours.

Arsenal’s furtive flit was the making of Charlton, their humble cousins from the next parish. In one fell, if not foul, swoop, the riverside rookies became cocks-of-the-walk in Woolwich, where many of the Royal Arsenal’s betrayed workers switched their allegiance to them. Football hates a vacuum as much as nature and this one was filled with alacrity.

Charlton’s growing reputation persuaded them to embrace professionalism in 1920. A single season spent in the Southern League prefaced their admission to the Football League (South) for the 1921-22 campaign, which they kicked off with a 1-0 win over Exeter City at The Valley on August 27th, with Tommy Dowling scoring the momentous goal. Still on the books since 1905 was sole survivor Albert “Mosky” Mills, who made two league appearances during the groundbreaking 1921-22 season.

Two years after entering the Football League, the Addicks embarked on a giant-killing Cup run, which still defies belief. This fledgling Third Division team, still wet behind their professional ears, won through two preliminary rounds before knocking out, in succession, vaunted First Division opposition in Manchester City (2-1), Preston North End (2-0) and West Bromwich Albion (1-0) to earn their place in the quarter-finals against Cup legends Bolton Wanderers. On March 10th, 1923, they succumbed 1-0 to a David Jack goal before 41,023 sardine-packed Valley onlookers as the Trotters proceeded to the first Wembley Cup Final, where they beat West Ham 2-0 in the chaotic White Horse Final. Don’t expect to hear their wonderful feat mentioned whenever Cup giant-killers are feted. That kind of attention is normally paid to minnows who manage just one historic result. Charlton knocked over three Goliaths. Then lost 1-0 to the eventual Cup winners. Hardly worth making a fuss about.

Continuing in the Third Division, Charlton were promoted as champions to the Second Division in 1928-29 and survived there until their bottom placed finish in 1932-33 saw them relegated. During that catastrophic campaign, manager Alex McFarland was sacked in December 1932, with former goalkeeper Albert Lindon filling in until, in May 1933, Jimmy Seed took over the helm. Part one of Charlton’s incredible history was complete.

The arrival of the astute Seed, himself a decorated player with Spurs, Sheffield Wednesday and England, kickstarted Part Two – a meteoric three-year rise into English football’s elite, where they remained from 1936 until 1957, appeared in two post-war Cup finals, took part in the most amazing football game ever played, then went on to distinguish themselves in the financial jungle that is the Premier League. But that’s another story for another day.

Coming soon: Part II

Charlton 6 (Pigott 10,57, 67(pen), 90, Azeez 22, Smith 82), Huddersfield Town 1 (Crooks 52).

A four-goal salvo from powerhouse centre forward Joe Pigott led the demolition of Huddersfield Town in a one-sided Under-21 Development League play-off semi-final at Sparrows Lane on Tuesday. The hapless Terriers were sent home with their tails between their legs after being outclassed by Nathan Jones’ hugely talented young pros.

Pigott’s exploits naturally hogged the limelight but there was excellence all through Jones’ hungry team of young Addicks. Underage midfielder Diego Poyet proved himself a skilful chip off his dad Gus’ all-purpose block; left back Morgan Fox seemed nonchalantly willing to tackle an irritated rhinoceros in defending his goal; you wouldn’t want to tangle with centre backs Semi Ajayi and Kevin Feely (there’s a Gaelic football pedigree in this rawboned kid’s DNA, stand on that) in their ruthless line of business; skipper Bradley Jordan is the side’s heartbeat and, in the near future, will be doing his stuff at a higher level.

But it was blond bombshell Pigott who tore the visitors to shreds. His 10th minute opener was almost all his own work. Controlling Fox’s routine throw-in from the left touchline on his chest, he spun silkily infield  to shake off his marker Tommy Smith, took careful aim for the far corner, then curled a low beauty across keeper Lloyd Allinson and neatly inside the right post.

Charlton’s second goal, twelve minutes later, was scruffier but no less effective. Jordan’s inswinging corner from the left was driven against teammate Ajayi by Pigott, leaving Ade Azeez the easy task of sweeping the rebound past Allinson.

Before the interval, Callum Harriott, the solitary first teamer in the line-up but fully entitled to a place alongside his recent colleagues, tested Allinson from 25 yards, Azeez lobbed narrowly over the bar and Jordan was desperately unlucky to hit the foot of the post.

Little or nothing had been seen of Town up front but it wouldn’t be Charlton, if the Terriers weren’t thrown a consolation bone. I’m not being funny but, sure enough, in an uncanny reprise of Bristol City’s goal on Saturday, a misunderstanding involving Feely and Nick Pope caused the goalkeeper’s hasty clearance to cannon off Chris Atkinson. Striker Matt Crooks made the most of the confusion to lob neatly into an empty net.

The West Yorkshiremen were allowed to hope for less than five minutes before Pigott picked on them again. From a free kick awarded for Murray Wallace’s foul on Azeez, Fox delivered to the far post where Feely headed back for Pigott to net via a slight deflection.

When left back Robbie McIntyre ended Jordan’s burst into the penalty area with a crude challenge from behind, there was clearly to be no dispute about the identity of Charlton’s spotkick taker. Pigott not altogether convincingly completed his hat-trick to make it 4-1.

Just past the hour, Town’s worst nightmare had been realised with the arrival of Michael Smith to relieve Azeez. There were now two towering blond strikers, both of  them dangerous in the air but equally effective with the ball at their feet, to cope with. It was Smith, himself a four-goal destroyer of Tonbridge Angels in the recent Kent Senior Cup Final, who continued the rout with arguably the best of the six. A flowing five-pass move was distinguished by the sharp exchange between the big Northeasterner and substitute Tareiq Holmes-Dennis, which Smith finished by sidefooting clinically past a hopelesly exposed Allinson.

There was still time for Jordan Cousins’s fine pass to pick out Smith, who squared unselfishly from wide of the far post, leaving Pigott to unhibitedly score his fourth. Then the focus fell on the upcoming final against the winners of the other semi-final between Leicester City or Cardiff City. Away from home, unfortunately, otherwise I’d be there like a shot. You know me.

So what, in the meantime, are infrequent observers, among whom your reporter must be numbered, to make of the pool of talent applying pressure on Chris Powell just below the first-team waterline? Well, it seems to this occasional witness (my attendance at the Millwall league clincher rubberstamped my glory-hunting credentials, by the way) that there’s an embarrassment of riches on the way up. These kids are mustard.

From top to bottom, in fact, the club is in fine fettle. There’s an outstanding young manager at the tiller, enthusiastic coaches at all levels, a rich blend of experience and youth in the playing ranks. And, lest we forget, the best training facilities, stadium and fans in South East England. It ain’t a bad time to be an Addick.

It’s too good to be true, of course. Just watch some interfering busybody come along to spoil it. Speaking of which, let’s get Chris Powell all signed, sealed and delivered on a lengthy contract before the word gets out! That’s a priority because, let’s face it, Millwall are looking for a new manager.
It’s a  joke. Calm down, it’s a joke. You can’t even have a joke these days. He wouldn’t go to Millwall, anyway, would he? I mean, would he?! Blimey, I’ve got meself worried now.

Charlton: Pope, Osborne, Ajayi, Feely, Fox, Cousins, Jordan, Poyet, Harriott (Holmes-Dennis 81), Azeez (Smith 63), Pigott. Not used: Phillips, Lennon, Sho-Silva.

Huddersfield: Allinson, Holmes (more than useful, this, energetic, versatile teenager ), Smith, Wallace, McIntyre, Sinnott, Hopson, Charles (Cox 69), Atkinson, Homes, Crooks. Not used: Colgan, Strakey, Burke, Leonard.

Referee: Ian Fissenden.

Kevin Nolan’s Match Report is brought to you in association with , 294 Burnt Ash Hill, London, SE12 0QD.

Charlton 4 (Kermorgant 47,51, Obika 79, Jackson 85) Bristol City 1 (Reid 59).

Kevin Nolan reports from The Valley.

Love ’em or only like ’em, the end of season play-offs have proved visionary and have made just about every league game important. The traditional mid-table bore (usually scoreless) eked out by teams with no incentive left is nowadays little more than a ghastly memory in the minds of dinosaurs like your reporter. It disappeared along with Cup Finals regularly ruined by injury in pre-substitute days and teams having to do without key players because the FA duffers habitually scheduled international fixtures to clash with full league schedules. It’s a brave new world now and none the worse for it.

On Saturday, Charlton came as close as it gets to rolling back the years to the good old bad days. Their play-off aspirations had vanished at Middlesbrough a week earlier; their visitors, Bristol City had already been relegated. Their old-fashioned, seemingly meaningless clash fell somewhat short of mouthwatering.

Come the interval, it seemed that our worst fears were well on their way to being realised. This was no rollicking end-to-end fiesta of football though the 13 year-old grandson we’d brought along with us was out of order to start reading a newspaper. He got told, stand on me. Can’t have that sort of disrespect. No telling where it might end.

The only incident worth mentioning in 45 sleepwalking minutes was the premature ending of left back Rhoys Wiggins’ campaign due to another hamstring niggle. His unfortunate departure at least gave Chris Solly the opportunity to show that he is as adept a left back as he is a right back. Lawrie Wilson capably stepped into Solly’s boots on the right.

There must have been something slipped into Charlton’s half-time tea because they re-emerged to set about poor old City as if their parentage had been questioned. Within six explosive minutes, the bewildered visitors had been blown apart by two goals – both of them claimed by unstoppable Yann Kermorgant – and were facing a humiliating rout.

Man on a mission Kermorgant opened the scoring while the Robins were shaking off their first half torpor. Mobile co-striker Jon Obika’s raking pass found Mark Gower on the right, the experienced playmaker pinpointed a venomously struck cross on to the penalty spot and the burly Breton detonated a sideways-on volley powerful enough to threaten goalkeeper Tom Heaton’s health and safety on its way into the roof of the net.

Heaton was still contemplating his narrow escape when the Addicks doubled their tally. Slipped through to the left byline by Callum Harriott’s carefully judged pass, the overlapping Solly stood up a perfect cross to the far post, where Kermorgant headed forcefully home.

It was suddenly carnival time and Charlton generously included the Westcountrymen in their celebrations. A catastrophic lapse in concentration by Michael Morrison allowed bright spark Bobby Reid time and space to reduce the arrears by skilfully lobbing over the advancing David Button. While attempting to claw the ball off the line, unlucky Button sustained an injury which allowed highly rated young keeper Nick Pope to make an unplanned league debut.

As the home side wavered, Pope rode his luck with Albert Adomah screwing Ryan Taylor’s clever lay-off wide and Louis Carey making a mess of converting Neil Kilkenny’s quickthinking free kick. City’s bolt was just as quickly shot and put into context by another two-goal salvo.

Doing almost as he liked, Kermorgant’s uninhibited chip from outside the penalty area was adroitly measured to beat Heaton but, by annoying centimetres, not the crossbar. From close range, Obika gratefully helped himself to a simply headed rebound.

It was by now riveting stuff, rounded off by a wildly popular fourth goal five minutes from time. Growing in influence as his career cobwebs cleared away, shrewd playmaker Gower’s penetrative pass sent workaholic Bradley Pritchard haring to the right byline to drill over a hard, low cross, which Johnnie Jackson slid in from beyond the far post. Much to Kermorgant’s barely concealed irritation, his iconic skipper again tops the scoring with 12 goals. That deflected strike taken away from him at Watford must still rankle in Brittany.

The Addicks end 2012-13 in sound shape. This side has improved steadily; an eight-game unbeaten run, featuring four consecutive home wins, provided evidence that painful lessons had been learned; the agenda for next term must surely target a better return from local derbies than the single point gained this time around. Singlehandedly, Charlton saved Millwall from relegation and boosted Crystal Palace into the play-offs. That won’t do. Charity begins at home and there’s none to spare for either of them. So that’s over to you, Chris. They ain’t all that much anyway.

Charlton: Button (Pope 71), Solly, Dervite, Morrison, Wiggins (Wilson 15), Pritchard, Gower, Jackson, Harriott (Wagstaff 79), Obika, Kermorgant. Not used: Hughes, Taylor, Haynes, Kerkar. Booked: Wilson, Gower.

Bristol City: Heaton, Nyatanga, Fontaine, Louis Carey, Cunningham, Anderson, Kilkenny (Ajala 86), Bryan, Reid, Baldock (Adomah 53), Taylor (Burns 84). Not used: Lewis Carey, Foster, Kelly, Elliott.

Referee: Carl Berry. Att: 18,981.

N.B. This final report is dedicated to fellow travellers on Betty Hutchins’ coach (herself a veteran of Lewis coaches) and those other faces regularly glimpsed in foreign fields. Betty rules with a velvet grip and the club are lucky to have her. Her pies are legendary as indeed is she. Any talk of her turning it in must be vigorously discouraged. It’s not on. She’s a Downham girl who survived a potentially fatal collision with an outdoor tin bath tub to get where she is today. There’s years left in her yet. The bath tub’s a goner, though.
Anyway, where there’s no sense, there’s no feeling so we’ll be seeing you all next season. Be well. Be lucky. Be Addicks. K.N.

Kevin Nolan’s Match Report is brought to you in association with , 294 Burnt Ash Hill, London, SE12 0QD.

Middlesbrough 2 (Emnes 76, McDonald 87) Charlton 2 (Pritchard 1, Williams o.g 17).

Kevin Nolan reports from the Riverside Stadium.

No jolly jester at the best of times, Middlesbrough boss Tony Mowbray looked like he had a stone in his shoe after his side had come from behind to salvage a decent draw from this entertaining game.

“With respect” (brace yourself for the inevitable disrespect), “we should be beating sides like Charlton at our place”, he announced with what can only be described as a straight face. Tone’s a gloomy cove and it’s not often his face is anything but straight but his slight simply cannot go unchallenged. I mean, you can spit on a fan’s floor and call his cat a motheaten so-and-so but you can’t get away with dissing his football team. You go too far, Mr. Mowbray. Satisfaction is demanded.

To be fair, though, the head-to-head statistical record offers the beleaguered manager unimpeachable evidence for his comment. It shows that Boro had won 35, Charlton 34, with 18 draws in their previous 87 league encounters. That slender but undeniably decisive advantage probably justifies in his mind his airy dismissal of the Addicks but it might also symbolise precisely the sort of misplaced hubris that will keep the Teesiders beneath their visitors in the final Championship league table. You need to lighten up, mate. And mind your manners. You’ve been told.

With respect, dogeared Boro had done rather well at their place to recover from a first half drubbing and snatch a worthy point from a better side. Mr. M didn’t mention, of course, that his outclassed players had been favoured by one or two contentious refereeing decisions on their way to redemption. He should have been savouring the draw, not bellyaching about it.

A side like Middlesbrough could hardly afford to fall behind with less than a minute played but that’s exactly what they managed to do. They were ballwatching spectators as Yann Kermorgant threaded a pass through for Ricardo Fuller to cross from the left byline and the onrushing Bradley Pritchard to crash a rising drive into the roof of the net.

Some nine minutes later, Boro were helped out of the hole they were digging for themselves by the first of referee Darren Drysdale’s charitable contributions. Centre back Rhys Williams’ crude trip on Fuller inside the area was as clear a penalty as you’re likely to come across (unless you’re garrulous Ian Holloway, who is victimised by the “most blatant penalty I’ve ever seen in my life” on an almost weekly basis) but Drysdale remained unmoved. He won’t be so cocksure when he sneaks a look at the TV footage but he was adamant. And just as wrong.

Williams might have been still rattled when he conceded an own goal to double Charlton’s lead shortly after his brush with the law. His defensive partner Andre Bikey’s violent challenge on Fuller in the centre circle conceded a free kick, which the impressively calm Mark Gower hoisted to the far post, Kermorgant volleyed across the six-yard box and Williams turned into his own net.

With Gower and Danny Hollands deputising capably for recent linchpins Johnnie Jackson and Andy Hughes, the prospects for another comfortable road victory were encouraging. Kermorgant came close to making it three with a curling effort narrowly wide of the right post but, at the other end, Marvin Emnes’s determined solo run was brilliantly checked by Pritchard shortly before the interval.

Resuming in total control, the Addicks passed and moved crisply but, with Gower and Hollans possibly feeling the pace, took their foot off the attacking pedal. They were served a warning just past the hour when Emnes made a hash of a clearcut chance skilfully fashioned for him by effective substitutes Emmanuel Ledesma and Scott McDonald. And with less than a quarter hour left, their lead was halved.
Running on to Grant Leadbitter’s intelligently flighted pass, Emnes contrived a hastily shinned lob over a flummoxed Ben Hamer. Charlton had been abruptly removed from their comfort zone. The home side sensed the change.

Stung into response, the visitors were again let down by faulty officiating. Clearly onside as he converted Kermorgant’s short cross, Fuller’s close range tap-in was wrongly flagged by one of Drysdale’s unhelpful assistants. TV coverage revealed another officiating error but their bungling ways were far from over.

Heartened by their escape, Boro almost inevitably equalised in the 87th minute. Lively left winger Mustapha Carayol won a left wing corner off Michael Morrison, which he swung in to the far post. Delayed in the congestion zone as he left his line, Hamer was left helpless by McDonald’s firm header.

The implacable Drysdale had at least one more controversial decision in his incompetent repertoire. His added time verdict that Williams had fallen short of fouling Kermorgant in the area was forgiveable; not so his generous interpretation that Justin Hoyte’s panicky trip on substitute Jonathan Obika was legal. Chris Powell was livid; Mowbray non-commital; fill in your own blanks about Olly’s reaction.

What’s Crystal Palace’s manager doing in my report by the way? He wasn’t even there. He was up at Blackburn doing his nut. About a penalty which turned out not to be a penalty, of all things. Gertcha! Go on, on yer bike! Bloody liberty taker.

Middlesbrough: Steele, Hoyte, Rhys Williams, Bikey, Halliday, Reach (Ledesma 54), Leadbitter, Main (McDonald 54), Smallwood, Carayol, Emnes. Not used: Leutwiler, Bailey, Luke Williams, Burgess, Haroun.
Booked: Smallwood, Leadbitter.

Charlton: Hamer, Solly, Dervite, Morrison, Wiggins, Pritchard, Hollands, Gower, Harriott (Kerkar 80), Fuller (Obika 80), Kermorgant. Not used: Button, Taylor, Green, Haynes, Wilson.

Referee: Darren Drysdale. Att: 15,011.

Charlton 2 (Dervite 63, Obika 90) Wolves 1 (Doyle 66).

Kevin Nolan reports from The Valley.

For the second home game running, Jonathan Obika climbed off the bench to turn what seemed destined to be a disappointing 1-1 draw into an important 2-1 victory. Leeds United were his victims two weeks ago in the last of five added minutes; this time the impact sub was at it again a little earlier to sicken relegation haunted Wolves in the last seconds of regulation time.

So often on the receiving end themselves this season, Charlton -and especially Obika- are finally getting the hang of the last punch knockout. Well, nearly last punch because on this occasion there were still six extra minutes to negotiate, a task they sailed through with minimum fuss. That’s something else they’ve professionally mastered on their way to a thoroughly satisfactory ninth position.

Obika’s inelegant winner settled this scruffy clash as the fourth official was preparing his added time board. The spadework was provided by Yann Kermorgant’s delicate flick and Callum Harriott’s nicely timed pass to Rhoys Wiggins; the rampaging left back’s turn of pace to the left byline was rounded off by his low cutback for Danny Green to shoot optimistically. A helpful deflection sent the ball spinning wide of the left post, where Obika was perfectly postioned to drill a firm drive into the bottom corner.

This particularly disheartening defeat leaves Wolves teetering on the edge of a second successive relegation, an unthinkable fate for a club with such unimpeachable pedigree. Riddled by injuries to key players and lacking, through suspension for this key game, the vital midfield bite of Jamie O’Hara, the weakened Midlanders seemed there for the taking by in-form Charlton. That’s not the way it worked out because the Addicks were unable to reproduce the intensity which has driven them through a well-timed five-game unbeaten streak. But they won and winning when you are not at your best is a priceless knack.

A patchy first half was illuminated only by a brief flash of inspiration involving rookie Harriott and veteran Ricardo Fuller, both of whom were upstaged by a moment of breathtaking audacity from Wolves’ spiky skipper Karl Henry.

Just turned 19, Harriott is too young to be afraid of failure, his confidence remaining undimmed by the occasional knockback. Embarking on an electrifying solo run which carried him through a series of tackles, the kid respectfully unloaded a short pass for Fuller, 14 years his senior, to carry on the good work. Stepping inside from left to right, the seasoned pro unleashed a vicious shot which a surprised Dorus De Vries managed to beat away with both hands.

Henry’s contribution was more spectacular. Controlling a lofted clearance on his chest near the centre circle, the rangy midfielder let fly uninhibitedly on the volley from some 45 yards. His long range missile soared over Ben Hamer, possibly struggling for vision against a glaring sun, but rebounded to safety off the crossbar. That’s how your luck goes when you’re struggling at the bottom of any league. And in this unforgiving dog-eat-dog Championship, you need any and every break going.

The 12th minute loss withdrawal of talisman Andy Hughes, meanwhile, had broken manager Chris Powell’s recent run of luck with injuries. The loss of his captain Johnnie Jackson shortly after the interval was equally problematic but the Addicks’s response to adversity was encouraging. It was Jackson’s replacement Green, in fact, who was instrumental in Charlton’s breakthrough.

Gifted the ball by a wayward pass from Tongo Doumbia, the winger hesitated before shooting but earned himself a right wing corner off a desperate defender. His flagkick was cleared back to him, his return cross deflected behind for a second corner, which caused untold mayhem in the six-yard box. Fuller tried his luck before Dervite cleared up the debris by ramming home his third goal of the season from three yards. An untidy goal entirely befitting a similarly untidy game, it was, nonetheless, greeted ecstatically by a crowd captivated by Powell’s bonny bunch of battlers.

Charlton’s lead, unfortunately, lasted only three minutes, because almost before you could say Jack Robinson, the defender’s huge throw was flicked on by Roger Johnson and glanced in off the base of the right post by Kevin Doyle.

With an invaluable point in their grasp, Wolves promptly chose the wrong time to wobble. Kaspar Gorkss’ booking for fouling Green launched a quickfire spate of four cautions, the last of them meted out to Stephen Hunt for an ugly challenge on Hamer, which re-awakened memories of his infamous clash with Petr Cech (a case where, to be fair, the put-upon Hunt presented a valid case for innocence). But not this time.

Their loss of discipline was to catch up with the increasingly desperate visitors. For up stepped Jonathan-come-lately Obika to break their hearts. That trek back to the Black Country looks like ending in the horror that is League One. You wouldn’t wish it on your most bitter enemies….yeah, you would.

Kevin Nolan’s Match Report is brought to you in association with , 294 Burnt Ash Hill, London, SE12 0QD.

Charlton: Hamer, Solly, Dervite, Morrison, Wiggins, Hughes (Gower 12) Pritchard, Jackson (Green 62), Harriott, Kermorgant, Fuller (Obika 81). Not used: Button, Taylor, Kerkar, Wilson.

Wolves: De Vries, Doherty, Johnson, Robinson, Gorkss, Hunt (Hamill 86), Henry, Sigurdarson, Doumbia, Ward (Batth 90) Doyle. Not used: McCarey, Dicko, Foley, Cassidy, McAlinden. Booked: Gorkss, Doherty, Sigurdarson, Hunt.

Referee: Roger East. Att: 19,023.

Kevin Nolan’s Match Report is brought to you in association with , 294 Burnt Ash Hill, London, SE12 0QD.

Cardiff City 0 Charlton 0.

Kevin Nolan reports from Cardiff City Stadium.

Cast as bit players on a tumultuous evening when Cardiff City were meant to imperiously clinch promotion to the Premier League, Charlton came close to ruining the script and upstaging the champions-elect. Well before referee Stuart Mathieson blew his final whistle, City had unashamedly settled for the point they needed, with goalkeeper David Marshall clearly under instructions to make a meal of his goal kicks. Confirmation that Watford had lost at Millwall removed the last vestige of doubt and the celebrations duly commenced.

The Addicks had done their sturdy best to prolong the agony. Those of us educated by their record away from home recognised the ingredients of organisation, discipline and plain old bloodyminded stubbornness that have defied so many of their hosts this season. But it’s equally true that despite Cardiff’s domination of possession (59%-41% apparently), it was Charlton who came closer to scoring.

The Bluebirds, still referred to as such despite the contemptible boardroom decision to bin over 100 years of tradition and make a showbusiness change to red, made marginally  the better start. Craig Bellamy curled a free kick narrowly too high before Aron Gunnarsson’s clumsy foul on Yann Kermorgant  conceded a setpiece 30 yards out, over which Johnnie Jackson thoughtfully deliberated before bending a superb setpiece, which left Marshall groping helplessly but cannoned to safety off his left post. If nothing else, City had been warned that these hardnosed Englishmen had every intention of pooping their promotion party.

Still a potent threat in his football dotage, Bellamy’s duel with Chris Solly, one which Charlton’s imperturbable right back progressively dominated, was a pivotal feature of the first half. Before resorting to his customary Bellamyaching as he disappeared into Solly’s hip pocket, City’s prodigal son moved dangerously on to Gunnarsson’s inviting pass but sidefooted wastefully over the bar. To be fair, it’s impossible to ignore him.

The same could be said of the excellent Solly, who stood alone like Horatio at the bridge as South Korean international Kim Bo-Kyung led a three-on one fast break over the halfway line. With Bellamy and Rudy Gestede in space to his left, Bo-Kyung’s heavy touch was all Solly needed to step in and alertly snuff out the danger.
After Gestede glanced Andrew Taylor’s cross wide, Mathieson’s cockeyed decision that Rhoys Wiggins’ scrupulously fair tackle on Bo-Kyung was in fact a foul, the Blue/Redbirds were provided with a late chance to grab the lead before the interval. Bo-Kyung’s free kick beat a scrambling Ben Hamer but rippled the sidenetting. Justice was seen to be done.

Left back Taylor opened the second period by clipping the outside of the left post from long distance but the visitors were far from toothless themselves; Michael Morrison swivelled gracefully on to Solly’s throw in City’s penalty area before realising where he was and slicing wildly over Marshall’s bar. Hamer’s awkward save at the second attempt from Leon Barnett’s deflected shot kept the sides level before the Addicks again put the wind up their increasingly anxious hosts just past the hour mark.

Turning cleverly on to Solly’s low free kick, Ricardo Fuller moved across Ben Turner to make space for a left-footed drive which was heading inside the left post until Marshall, at full length, brilliantly touched it to safety.

Six minutes later, the increasingly fraught locals erupted in unrestrained joy as Craig Noone headed home Taylor’s cross. Unrestrained that is, until a linesman ruled that he had done so from an offside position. It was almost cruel to witness their despair. As if.

Enough was enough decided City manager Malky Mackay, a decision inspired by the dangerous shot from Callum Harriott which shaved the bar five minutes from the end. A draw suits South Welsh purposes, he concluded, leaves Charlton’s honour intact and everyone a winner of sorts. With a pitch invasion imminent, that included referee Matthieson, clearly complicit in the mutual agreement to shoulder arms. Having alerted players, managers and his fellow officials of his intentions, he blew his final whistle, then burned off speedster Harriott on his everyone-for-himself sprint to sanctuary. Impressively rapid though he was, he was outsmarted by former Swansea City player Mark Gower, whose judicious deployment near the tunnel had him in the showers before the natives could engulf him. This was no place for a “Swansea Jack” to be hanging around. Or anyone else who didn’t know the words of Men of Harlech. We used to sing it at school but you’ll understand that it’s a bit foggy these days. Rousing song, though.

N.B. It was a mischievous quirk of the fixture list that sent Charlton to South Yorkshire (Barnsley) on Saturday, then South Wales (Cardiff) on Tuesday.
Was it my imagination but did both of these mining areas have their backs turned?

Cardiff: Marshall, McNaughton, Turner, Barnett, Taylor, Noone (Smith 72), Mutch, Gunnarsson, Bo-Kyung, Bellamy, Gestede. Not used: Lewis, Whittingham, Cowie, Conway, Mason, Nugent.

Charlton: Hamer, Solly, Dervite, Morrison, Wiggins, Hughes (Gower 81), Pritchard (Green 88), Jackson, Harriott, Kermorgant, Fuller (Obika 81). Not used: Button, Taylor Kerkar, Wilson. Booked: Fuller.

Referee: Stuart Mathieson. Att: 26,338.

Barnsley 0 Charlton 6 (Pritchard 4, Jackson 19, Kermorgant 48, Harriott 59, Kerkar 80, Fuller 90.

Kevin Nolan reports from Oakwell.

Forget the mathematics. Bin the various equations. Wake up from your League One nightmares. Charlton will be playing in the Championship next season. This merciless demolition of Barnsley removed the last shred of doubt that they have both the quality and character to thrive at this level.

During the course of a tortuous campaign which turned at times into a route march through spilt treacle, the Addicks have grown inexorably stronger. Tactically flexible and consistently adaptable, they have taken the occasional setback in their stride on their way to a creditable position in the top half of the table.

This runaway victory in South Yorkshire over bang in-form Barnsley was typical of their steady improvement, not to mention the shrewd manipulation by manager Chris Powell of a fluctuating squad.

At one end of the age scale at Oakwell was Callum Harriott, recently turned 19 and a heartwarming success since breaking into the first team last month. A will-o-the-wisp ball player, the academy graduate has clearly been coached to add nuts-and-bolts effort to his repertoire of tricks. As usual, he tackled, covered, worked his teenaged socks off for the cause and, with a handy slice of luck, became one of six scoring contributors to Charlton’s best-ever away win.

Predictably not among those scorers was 35 year-old Andy Hughes, whose addition to the starting line-up against Bolton Wanderers two weeks previously was the cause of raised eyebrows among the more sceptical of supporters. After a lengthy absence through injury, much was asked of the streetwise veteran but, not for the first time, Powell was proved right, with his faith in the old pro vindicated by a string of mature performances.

In this potentially difficult game, Hughes was a model of professionalism, consistently chucking a spanner into the Tykes’ midfield engine room, his timely interventions ensuring that his side hogged the ball and applied lethal pressure. The home side were hardly given a look-in.

The point is, of course, that Powell’s personnel have adapted imaginatively to new challenges as the season has worn on. At centre back, for instance, Dorian Dervite has capably picked up the slack caused by injuries to Leon Cort and Matt Taylor, making it unthinkable to drop him from a centre back position he has made his own.

In spirited form themselves, meanwhile, following battling draws at Crystal Palace and Cardiff, Barnsley’s cruel dissection began as early as the fourth minute. Foraging in the inside right channel, Ricardo Fuller ran down Chris Solly’s pass, returning the ball to the aggressive right back, whose low cross was volleyed against Luke Steele’s chest by Yann Kermorgant, Pouncing on the rebound, Bradley Pritchard netted efficiently.

Relaxed and confident, the Addicks pressed home their advantage. Set up by the feverishly busy Pritchard, Johnnie Jackson’s clever footwork made space for the low right footed drive he drilled through the unhappy Steele’s legs.

Shaken to the core by the turn of events, Barnsley boss David Flitcroft reacted boldly, with old stager Jason Scotland, already an on-loan scorer for Ipswich against Charlton this term, replacing Tomasz Cywka, the South Yorkshiremen’s goalscoring hero at The Valley in October. Scotland responded immediately by burrowing along the right byline to set up a close range chance for Jacob Mellis, which was cleared off the line by the outstanding Rhoys Wiggins.

Scotland tried again shortly after the break, playing Chris Dagnall clear on the right to slice wildly wide. Duly warned that the issue was far from sealed, the visitors promptly blew Barnsley’s resistance apart with easily the best of their six goals.

Alertly reading Wiggins’ overlap outside him, Harriott weighted the perfect pass for the left back to cross perfectly on the run. At the far post, Kermorgant made easy work of nodding past Steele, before continuing into the net to celebrate with his adoring public, all 672 of them.

The Tykes’ misery was far from over. On the hour, Harriott received Pritchard’s short ball and beat a demoralised Steele at his near post with a wickedly swerving but eminently saveable drive. In defensive tatters by now, Flitcroft’s side was reduced to 10 strugglers, with Stephen Dawson earning a straight red card for a late challenge on Kermorgant. Showing commonsense, Powell instantly replaced a battered Kermorgant with Jon Obika and sensible withdrew Jackson, in imminent danger of suspension with nine cautions hanging over him, in favour of Mark Gower.

Not that the revamped Addicks eased off. A third substitute, Salim Kerkar, relieved young Harriott and quickly made it five by finishing off Obika’s blocked shot. Again, their victims reacted disastrously with last defender Tom Kennedy dismissed for chopping Fuller down in full flight for goal. Almost inevitably, in added time, with Steele’s goal being used for target practice, Fuller helped himself to a gratuitous but richly deserved clincher.

So records were set in South Yorkshire. This was Charlton’s best-ever away victory and there is talk that it’s the first time six separate scorers have registered in one game. That’s a detail, of course, for which the late, great Colin Cameron was our go-to guy. The best I can come up with is an educated guess, proving that there will never be another dear old Colin. You should cut me a little slack already so soon!

Barnsley: Steele, Wiseman, Hassell, Foster, Kennedy, Cwyka (Scotland 29), Dawson, Perkins, Mellis (O’Brien 59), O’Grady (Harewood 59), Dagnall. Not used: Alnwick, Jones, Rose, Cranie. Sent off: Kennedy, Dawson.

Charlton: Hamer, Solly, Dervite, Morrison, Wiggins, Hughes, Pritchard, Jackson (Gower 66), Harriott (Kerkar 78), Fuller, Kermorgant (Obika 66). Not used: Button, Taylor, Green, Wilson.

Referee: Geoff Eltringham. Att: 9,469.

Kevin Nolan’s Match Report is brought to you in association with , 294 Burnt Ash Hill, London, SE12 0QD.