Football supporters are fond of a massive dollop of hyperbole.
We aren't born liars, we just like to lay it on a bit thick.
Only a few weeks ago, the less than massed ranks of the Rotherham support were announcing to whoever would listen that they are,
"By far the Greatest Team, the World has ever seen!"
It's all just a verbal game.
Nobody believes it for a second yet still it continues.
"We're a fairly average second tier team who nobody outside our own postcode cares about,"
is closer to the truth for most sides but I can't see that particular verse catching on.
Pre game yesterday, all I could foresee was a heavy spanking for the Addicks and yet more reasons to go home feeling totally despondent.
Given just one of my companions agreeing with the suggestion, I'd quite happily have stayed in the pub for a few extra pints rather than heading over to the Valley.
I was comfy, why would I want to put myself through it?
The game on Tuesday against Norwich may have had a short spell when we scored two goals but nobody could argue the Canaries weren't streets ahead of our woeful bunch.
They deserved to win easily, even if the final score didn't reflect that. They were surely more than one goal better than us?
Fast forward a couple of hours yesterday and as far as any eavesdroppers are concerned, I'm piling on the superlatives, laden with dollops of exaggeration myself.
Asked by a Charlton supporting friend who wasn't at the game- and in all honesty hasn't been to the Valley since October, "What was it like?", my response was brief and to the point.
"Hundreds of times better than anything we've seen recently".
Those of us who were present at the Valley yesterday are the ones who know that just this once, that statement really is underplaying it.