All is not doomed
I had a Holy vision this week.
Lying in bed in my official Addicks jim-jams, unable to sleep after another Charlton defeat, I saw a strange bright light by the window.
A familiar voice could be heard above the gentle sound of the dog’s snoring.
“Be not afraid” said the voice.
“I am the Lord (Curbs) and I have glad tidings for you and the chosen people of the red Valley. Spread these words on that FanZone gospel so that all may hear the joyous news.
Weep not, for Saint Christopher of the Powellites is my chosen one and he will lead the chosen people of the Addicks back to the promised land.
But Saint Christopher must suffer greatly for more than 40 days and 40 nights in the wilderness without the comfort of clean sheets or victories in foreign lands before he sees the light. The ancient Christian (Dailly) will be banished by the blind Pharisee in black for not turning the other cheek when he receives the veritable boot in the face at Oldham. Oldham are truly dirty northern heathens and should be put to the sword or suffer a plague of locusts in their town centre.
And before the whistle blows three times for offside, Saint Christopher will be betrayed by the young Judas of Jenkinson who will sell his allegiance to the mighty Prince Wenger of the dreaded Highbury’s – just for a few pieces of silver and a new Bentley.
And he will be sorely tested by the cripples and beggars. Even the faithful Jackson is crippled and lame in his bed and the Bradley of Wright-Philips is sorely troubled by the lack of service from midfield.
And when the Goliaths and fat boys of Huddersfield come to the red Valley and should be struck down by the brave Addicks, we will concede a dodgy free kick and all will be despair once again.
But when the summer sun scorches the earth, Saint Christopher will go to King Slater of the Moneylenders and ask for the sacks of gold so that he might work some miracles over the close season.
So heed not those of little faith and the soothsayers at Ladbrokes who tell you the glory days are over. This is the will of the Lord (Curbs) so put a fiver on for me for Charlton to be promoted next season.”
And then the ghostly light slipped out of my bedroom window and all was quiet once more except for the dog snoring.