I’m feeling an emotional pull tonight. It was a normal Friday evening in our house, I put our daughter to bed, I cooked dinner, we drunk some wine, we made plans for the weekend and my other half and I caught up on our week’s stories.
But I have been distracted tonight, my head is not really here. Most Saturday mornings I wake and invariably wish that I was somewhere in England watching the Addicks. It is fair to say that often 90 minutes later I’m pleased that I wasn’t, but on the eve of tomorrow’s game at home to Plymouth, tonight I have an unfamiliar feeling inside me.
It’s the feeling I always used to have as a teenager before every Charlton game, you know the one after you are too young to understand and too old to have other things to worry about.
Tomorrow is the first game of the season, the FA Cup 3rd Round, the Play-Off final, a relegation 6-pointer, promotion decider and local derby all rolled into one. I know that it’s just one game, and we might have to go back to go forward but I’ll have trouble sleeping tonight, probably like many others, perhaps even like Chris Powell because we all want this to work out.
Come on you Addicks.