We are making one of our infrequent trips to the Valley on Saturday. I believe there is wifi in the stadium, can anyone tell me if there is a password I have to use to access it so I can put up the players marks before we go off and protest,
CAFC Conspiracy Theories, #327 in an occasional series: Contrary to popular belief Roland Duchatelet not only has an idea about running a football club, he has a bloody brilliant one. The electronics genius has pioneered the development of footballing androids whose skill, flair, and seamless integration are a wonder to behold. Coupled with their indefatigability and a sturdiness that would put a particularly well-constructed Tonka toy to shame and you can see why M. Duchatelet believes that he only needs a squad of eleven for certain promotion to the Premiership promised land. This also explains why nearly 70% of all Charlton signings come from Belgium and why the deals are always undisclosed; they aren't really coming from Standard Liège, but from the Staypricks factory next door. There is one tiny flaw in the plan though. Duchatelet's Droids need to be controlled by a central processing unit which is situated in his secret underground sex bunker deep beneath the streets St Truiden. Belgian tests have proved Duchatelet's CPU to be the most elegant, sophisticated and effective footballing brain on the planet. Coupled with his scintillating cyborgs it should produce the most beautiful and successful football team ever seen on planet Earth. Here's the rub though. For the signal to get from the Belgian bunker to the cyborgs' minds it has to go through CAFC WIFI. Delays that are measured in minutes rather than microseconds, crossed signals and frequent scrambling mean that the automaton army are rendered useless. The 'XL-32 Cruyff on Speed droid', therefore appeared to fans as Christophe LePoint, a lumbering shiny-headed Nosferatu doppelgänger who couldn't even see a ball let alone kick one. The 'Super Unbeatable Mega Keeper' became Lilly Thuram, an uncoordinated flapper of a robot who would, at best, take swipes at the ball like a toddler trying unsuccessfully to swat a fly. To remedy all of this, all Two Shats needs to do is pop along to Currys on the Woolwich Road and buy a new router. Sadly though, he won't leave that secret sex bunker for a minute, and so it's never going to happen.
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RDsClubDontYouForgetIt
And
KMKNOWSWHATSHESDOINGHONEST.
ROLAND IN!
Wife at the Valley.
The experience is bad enough at the moment,
Without that !
To my wife and Sweetheart; May they never meet.