Wally with a Brolly

Thurs 9th - Luton (A) FA Cup 2nd Round Replay (live on ESPN)

Sun 12th - Walsall (H) NPower League One

Tues 14th - Brentford (A) Johnstone's Paint Trophy Area Semi-Final (live on Sky)

Of course, I will be trawling around London (and a bit beyond) following the boys. These 6 days will define our season. On Thursday, a lucrative FA Cup 3rd Round tie away at White Hart Lane awaits the victors. On Sunday, Charlton are likely to be playing to regain their automatic promotion spot as all the other League One teams play on either Friday or Saturday. On Tuesday, we will be playing for a spot in the Johnstone's Paint Trophy Area Final against either Bristol Rovers or Exeter City.

How will Parky rotate the squad to deal with playing such a ridiculous number of games in such a short space of time? What games will he prioritise? Who will be the heroes and villains in the cup games, and can the boys motivate themselves to play the league's bottom team at home inbetween? Only time will tell.....

DAY ONE - Thursday 9th December 2010

I was going to this game with my girlfriend, Serena. We set off with plenty of time to spare, hoping to hit an away fans pub near the ground. I was feeling a bit nervous about the game and fully expected extra-time/penalties after Luton outplayed our side at The Valley. The prize of a trip to White Hart Lane was huge. Not only would it mean a big payday for the club, it would be a great day out for the players and the fans and also the chance to test ourselves against the 4th best side in the country.

We didn't see any Charlton fans on the train or at the station when we arrived. And to make things worse, Luton is an absolute dive. The signs were ominous and as we made our way past ruined terraced houses, dodgy kebab shops and shady male barbers where you'd be more likely to come out with AIDs than a decent haircut, the ground and its floodlights were nowhere to be seen (this was to be explained later...).

We found a Charlton fan on the corner of one of the streets who directed us to a Wetherspoons he had been in, so we gave it a go. The first pint went down fine, but by the time we had finished our drinks, the pub was filling up with Luton fans who did not seem to like the look of my Charlton shirt. We set off for a pub that had been designated as an "away" pub on a website. Number of other Charlton fans in there? Zero. We had no choice but to return to the Spoons and put up with the unwelcome feeling. From there, we set off for the ground.

I had read that going into the ground was like walking into a person's house, but had presumed that it was at least a bit of an exaggeration. It wasn't. The turnstile almost could have been someone's front door. As we walked the stairs to the stand, we walked over people's gardens and could see their washing hanging on the line. Upon entering the stand, it was almost astonishing to see seats and a decent-looking football pitch. The ground would be fairly hostile if it were not for one of the stands that runs the length of the pitch being exclusively for executive boxes which, unsurprisingly, were mostly empty.

The ESPN cameras scaled the stands as the players walked out and the boys looked confident, unbeaten in 11 games. However, with Charlton nothing is ever easy and my slight pessimism about our ability to see off the non-league outfit seemed entirely justified as the Hatters bossed the first half. Just as I thought it was coming up to half time, my fears were realised as Luton went one up by poking one in from a goalmouth scramble. I had seen enough for one half, and the dry roasted peanuts from Spoons were playing havoc with my stomach, so, thinking only a minute or two remained in the half at most, I decided to see if Luton's conveniences were in keeping with the ground as a whole.

To my surprise, they were actually alright. But, as I settled down, programme in hand, a large cheer went up. I immediately thought we had gone two down, as there was no way we looked like scoring. However, as the chants of "we only need one shot" went up, I realised that we must have scored. I was half-ecstatic, half-gutted to have missed the goal. It is hard to feel both emotions at once - perhaps something you can only feel if you're having a dump at a football game when your team scores. Half-time was nervy as after 135 minutes of football, there was still nothing to separate us from a non-league team. I still felt extra-time fast approaching, and, even more worryingly, Luton had looked by far the better team over those 135 minutes.

The second half was to be one of the more enjoyable in my time of watching Charlton. Inexplicably, Luton switched their best player, Drury, from central midfield out to left midfield. We barely saw him, and he looked a shadow of the dominating figure of the previous 2 1/4 hours. We went in front through a nice piece of improvisation by Anyinsah, and my nerves were settled when we gained a 2-goal cushion through a nice deflection off Racon from Jackson's free-kick. We had been in good voice so far, but the songs really picked up, and the chants of "If you're all going Tottenham clap your hands" and "Que sera sera" rang around the away stand. Luton fans seemed resigned to losing, and began chanting "The FA Cup, who gives a fuck, we're Luton Town and we're going up". Normally, it would have been a timely reminder that, for both teams, the league should remain the priority. However, we were in no mood to be reminded of such a tedious fact, and the Charlton fans were buzzing. The final whistle went soon enough and Luton must have wondered how they had thrown the game away and let Charlton see it out so comfortably.

After leaving the ground, the police felt the need to escort us back to the train station after seeing a small confrontation between the two sets of fans as we left the ground. On the walk there, we all had Tottenham on our minds. The question was, could the players forget it and concentrate on the league in time for Sunday?

DAY TWO - Friday 10th December 2010

We headed first thing to the Charlton ticket office at The Valley in the morning to stand in line for Tottenham tickets. Having attended 5 away games already this season (and Serena 4), we qualified for the first round of eligibility, and were not prepared to wait in order to get our hands on the invaluable prize of our win the previous evening. The tickets looked beautiful, and reminded me of the Premiership days when I would go every year to the Spurs away game with my friend's dad who had season tickets there. I left the stadium, not forgetting that I would be returning less than 48 hours later.

DAY FOUR - Sunday 12th December 2010

The team that were 2nd at the start of the weekend at home to the team rooted to the bottom of the table. Surely a foregone conclusion. But nothing is straightforward with Charlton, particularly when you have played less than 72 hours ago and you have the thought of a trip to Tottenham at the back of your mind. I turned up at The Valley with my dad expecting a narrow victory. We couldn't lose this, could we?

I should have known better. In what was undoubtedly one of the worst Charlton performances I have ever seen, we crashed to a 1-0 home defeat against distinctly unimpressive opposition. Parkinson's decision to leave the side unchanged did not pay off, and looked foolish in hindsight. However, it wasn't so much that the players look tired, more that they seemed unmotivated and uninterested at the prospect of playing Walsall when Tottenham awaited. Unfortunately, in my opinion, the blame for this also has to fall at the manager's door.

So, the week hung in the balance. Although we had won a lucrative trip to White Hart Lane - a prize for everyone associated with the club from the board to the players and the fans - we had neglected our bread and butter. One afternoon in North London would not be remembered for as long, or appreciated for nearly as long, as promotion to the Championship. The game at Griffin Park remained to determine whether or not we would ultimately see the week as a success. Getting one tie away from Wembley would go a long way to compensating for the embarrassment felt losing at the Valley to a team that could only muster 114 away fans on a weekend.

DAY SIX - Tuesday 14th December 2010

Griffin Park is one of my favourite grounds. Having visited it earlier in the season for the league outing, I was very pleased when we again drew Brentford in the JPT. The ground is similar to Luton in that it is enveloped by terraced houses. It's just a lot less...shit. The area is nicer and not as intimidating, and the fact that Griffin Park is the only ground that has a pub on every corner definitely helps. Previously we had had time to visit the Griffin, the Royal Oak, the New Inn and the Princess Royal. On this occasion, we only had the time to visit the New Inn, which is traditionally the away pub. I went to this game with my girlfriend's male housemates, taking two of them to their first Charlton game, and one of them to their first football game altogether.

We were running late, so rushed from the New Inn to the away end, dashing along the terraced houses that made up one of the ends of the ground. I attempted to buy a programme on the way, only to realise when we reached the other end of the ground by the Royal Oak that I had given the seller my money, but not taken a programme in my rush. I ran back to claim the edition of "The Bees" that was rightfully mine, before heading to the turnstiles.

I also really like the inside of Griffin Park. The away end is split into a terrace on the lower tier and seats in the upper tier, giving those who prefer to sit and not to be surrounded by the rowdy young fans the chance to enjoy the game just as much as those who, like myself, prefer to stand and sing their hearts out.

The drawbacks of the night out were that the game was a fairly drab affair, dominated by Brentford who were very unlucky not to score. Griffin Park also does not sell beer inside the ground, and if it did, you would be lucky to get it as the queues for the toilets and for food at half time are an absolute nightmare. For one of Serena's housemates, Charlie, it was the second time that he had seen Charlton draw 0-0 in two attempts. Turns out I don't pick out the best games for him...

However, as it was the JPT, we would see penalties at least. Although not being overly bothered by the competition, I still found myself fairly nervous, and very unconfident, with memories of last season's play-off defeat to Swindon on penalties at the Valley still entrenched in my mind.

I was right to be. Charlton were determined that Charlie would not see them score, missing all of their first three penalties (Jackson, Racon, Reid). Luckily, just as it looked like we would crash out 3-0 on penalties, Brentford missed. This gave Gary Doherty the chance to notch up a successful penalty, and restore some degree of respect to the scoreline. Predictably, Gary Alexander, the former Millwall player who loves to taunt the Addicks and always seems to score against us, converted his penalty to send Brentford through to the area final, 3-1 on penalties.

We left, fairly dejected but having enjoyed a good evening out nonetheless. Luckily, this felt nothing like Monday 17th May, almost 7 months ago when Nicky Bailey's spooned penalty consigned us to another season in League One. There was good banter with the Brentford fans back at the station, and a chorus of "The JPT, who gives a fuck, we're Charlton Athletic and we're going up". With thanks to the Luton fans who taught us the song just five days ago.

So, all in all, a strange week. Given these set of results at the start of the week, I'm not sure whether or not I would have taken them. Overall, it is undoubtedly disappointing to go out of one cup and to fall to a humiliating and damaging defeat at home. But, the guaranteed trip to Spurs is an undeniable silver lining to a cloud that would have otherwise been deathly dark. Roll on Saturday 9th January...