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Match Report: Boring Bolton Wanderers 0-0 Charlton Athletic

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One of the worst football matches in modern history

Jan Kruger/Getty Images

I find my entertainment in unusual places.

Funny street names. Those top knot things. UKTV Gold.

I don't always expect entertainment. Look at Ricky Gervais. Sometimes funny, more often than not excruciatingly awful.

My point is that Bolton Wanderers are very much like Ricky Gervais.

They've had moments of brilliance (us the 90s and early 2000s, him that one series of that one programme). They've had moments of woeful shithousery (us the mid 80s and late 2000s onwards, him everything he's ever done especially that horrible, horrible Derek programme).

So it was with this in mind that I turned up at a warm and bright Reebok Stadium. Unsure of what coat to wear I chose the heavy Arsene Wenger-style thick effort. It proved to be the best decision of the night - unlike the choice to actually attend in the first place.

Arriving to meet some members of the LOV team for a drink, I was appalled to see that the 'subsidised' prices in the Fanzone were no more, and I paid £3-odd for a pint of stale piss. I know we have to get some money in the coffers but come on.

Then the world's worst quiz took place. Vague questions: "Name a manager with a link between Charlton and Bolton?". "Who are the two players shown in this dark photo?". Very strange. Still, I took part all the same and gave it my best effort. Much like Oscar Threlkeld would later on. Didn't win though.

This all sounds very terrible, but the best was yet to come.

They have a tendency, in the FanZone, to spoil the atmosphere with a band, or a singer, or something equally inappropriate.

This time however, took the proverbial biscuit. I'm not that into my gangster rap, and so I have to admit that I was a bit taken aback when a young chap named Kapital took to the stage. I thought to myself "this is interesting". He then proceeded to rap very loudly with a backing track which was clearly turned up to 11.

It was amazing. The sight of hundreds of bored looking, white middle-aged men walking out of FanZone must have been crushing to Kapital's self-esteem, but he carried on regardless like a real trooper.

He offered some encouraging words with regards to Bolton's future prospects, which was nice, and then launched into his second track. By this time, the crowd had thinned out from a few hundred to a couple of dozen. I felt very sorry for Kapital but fair play to him, being the artiste that he is you wouldn't have noticed even if he had wiped a tear from his eye.

It was at this point that I left to pick up my ticket.

Oh and the match was fucking awful.