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impsTALK.co.uk >> 2008/09 >> Rough Guide > Eastwood Town
Club
Details |
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| Send hate mail to: | Eastwood
Town Football Club Coronation Park Chewton Street, Eastwood Notts NG16 3HB Tel: 01773 715823 |
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| Matchday prices: | Adult
- £7.00 OAP/Concessions - £5.00 Under-14s - £2.00 |
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Who
the hell are Eastwood FC? |
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Earlier in the season, on this very Rough Guide, we sniffily
dismissed Eastwood's history as 'not very interesting'. Which was true: it wasn't. Eastwood were only formed in 1953, beginning life as a successful Notts Alliance outfit. They shifted between various no-name regional leagues before entering the Midland Counties league in 1971, ascending over time to reach Northern Premier level by 1987. After a one year sojourn in the NCEL during 2003/2004, they bounced back and might have ascended yet further last season had they not had the misfortune to get spanked by Gateshead in the playoffs. But now, after an extraordinary run in the FA Cup, Eastwood are officially 08/09's 'plucky no-hopers from provincial backwater' that tabloid journalists get to patronise. Good for them, we say. Although to draw Kettering in the third round must have been truly soul-destroying... |
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Claims
to fame
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| Bradford
City fans will remember Richard Liburd, a centre-half who remains
Eastwood’s most notable former player, having secured an impressively
hefty £72k transfer to Middlesbrough all the way back in 1992/1993.
After stints at Meadow Lane and Sincil Bank, he ended up returning to Eastwood in 2004 before calling it a day and retiring to run a pub/newsagent/bookmakers/chip shop (delete as applicable). England
stars Jeff Astle and Tony Woodcock were both born in Eastwood, but
neither so much as kicked a ball for their home-town club, starting
their careers at Notts County and Nottingham Forest respectively.
Woodcock finished his playing days in Germany. |
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Where do they run around like headless chickens? |
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| Eastwood
play at the rather grandly named Coronation Park.
Here's a picture:
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Last
three seasons |
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2005/2006
– 7th in Northern Premier Division One |
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The
town |
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| It
was during the Boston United v Blyth game last season when we were
discussing the possibility that the Pilgrims could be facing Eastwood
Town in 2008/2009 - as the Nottinghamshire club was embroiled at the
time in a tense*, and ultimately
doomed, play-off tussle with Gateshead – when, suddenly,
a Boston fan who bore a striking resemblance to Farmer Dan spun around
in his seat to declare that he used to actually play for Eastwood.
Not only that, he claimed, but we were pronouncing the name of the town incorrectly. “It’s not Eastwood,” he scolded, shaking his head. “It’s pronounced Aaayst-wood, ye daft plonkers.” Aaaystwood? Well, having conducted our own scientific survey of five blokes in the office and a Nottingham city bus driver whose route goes nowhere near Eastwood, we can confirm that the correct pronunciation is news to folk round here. That said, Farmer Dan’s assertion is not, as it happens, without foundation. On further investigation, it seems that the weird pronunciation is due to the phonological nuances of a now virtually extinct Midlands dialect spoken exclusively in and around Eastwood long before the town was bulldozed to make way for the vast Ikea retail park thing. So the Farmer Dan was quite correct, although the fact that he was speaking a language that has its roots firmly entrenched in Middle English explains why he was wrapped in a blanket and looked 985 years old. As for the town, Eastwood is, like a great many in the area, a former colliery settlement. The pits are now all closed, of course, but unlike many other unfortunate Coketowns Eastwood had an ace up its sleeve once the miners had been tossed out of work: a DH Lawrence shaped ace. The author was born in the town, y’see, meaning there was, and is, enough of a tourist industry to keep Eastwood’s head above water and prevent it becoming a carbon copy of Rainworth or Ilkeston. For which they must thank tales of lesbian lovers and illicit encounters with naked gardeners who look suspiciously like Sean Bean.
The
other ace, of course, is Ikea: thousands of eager shoppers flock
there every weekend to purchase bits of MDF disguised as real wood
they can bolt into shapes vaguely resembling bookcases, and box
upon box of that delicious dime bar cake (they sell it in Tesco
now – ed). |
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to add? |
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