FLASHBACK: ILKESTON 1-0 EASTWOOD, 2009. Light-hearted article by THE MOWDOG...

Friday Good For Attracting Local Constabulary

The car-park attendant was in a total whirl at 6.15pm, for he even attempted to hand me a letter addressed to him, rather than take my cash. I brought him down to earth and paid my customary pound, which might just have sustained somebody’s beer money for an hour or so, for who knows what happens to it? Does anyone really tally the number of unofficial vehicles to the cash collected? Guess not. He was certainly in for one horrendous evening, as the parking-lot overflowed onto a soccer pitch behind the goal at the clock-end of the Ilkeston stadium and then became jammed by police vehicles, due to the need for reinforcements being drafted in on a Good Friday evening to settle ‘differences’ between ‘Ilson’ and Eastwood followers. 

The calm before the storm...

I sought the fellow who filched another pound from innocent spectators who wanted to sit down and I was handed a slip of paper marked ‘Car Park’. Hmm. Odd that one pays in the car-park to leave one’s vehicle, upon receipt of no ticket at all then pay another pound to sit in a stand, for which one receives a car-parking ticket. I think I understand. I sure like the style. Yet the very people who stood and caused the trouble at the ground, presumably necessitating a considerable payment to the police authorities to quell the rioting, paid the flat-rate. My extra pound helped to fund the plodding stewarding, no doubt. Ah, I felt the word ‘MUG’ lit up across my forehead.

Or was this for a seat in the grandstand?

There were Derby and Forest fans near me in the stand and with the eclectic local accent taking over my evening, I felt about as comfortable as a sheep in a Safari Park. However, I did chat to an elderly chap who once played for Ilson, way back then existing on his ordinary job’s wage of not much more than two pounds per week. Interesting. Supporters watched agog as latecomers abandoned cars wherever there was space near the ground and I was reminded of a car-boot sale, where vehicles are angled like the untidy mosaic tesserae of an inept apprentice in ancient Rome. The police simply looked on and probably admired the patterns from their sightseeing helicopter, which roared above, to increase the volume to old Wembley proportions.

Car-boot sale?

The game was tense. Very tense. Eastwood were shaken by Ilson’s defensive resilience, the lurking danger of speedy winger Sam Duncum and the craft of flaxen-haired Ben Pringle. The Badgers deserved nought and were justly rewarded. Exiting the car-park was surprisingly slick, for little had moved already, although the manoeuvres I was forced to make to extricate my car were reminiscent of Bob Monkhouse’s ‘Golden Shot’:”Right a bit, left a bit…” I threaded a path between the fearful and threatening glances of leaving supporters, with the Eastwood fans’ bellowing voices fading into the Easter evening as I headed hastily towards the M1 motorway…

Spot Ben Pringle?

The all-important winning goal had been scored in the 28^th minute and it stemmed from a fine effort at goal by the speedy Duncum, who found himself a little room, centrally, just outside the Eastwood penalty-box. The winger was astute enough to curl a low shot past Deakin’s dive but the ball struck the right upright and play moved towards the left where Pringle latched onto the loose ball and fired it low across the goalmouth, for the lurking Newsham to turn into the net from close range and wrong-foot Deakin.

A good Friday, then…