Guiseley 3 – 4 Halifax Town; 20/09/11.

Guiseley 3 – 4 Halifax Town; 20/09/11.

There's no better person to quote than myself, because otherwise who would quote me? "When we start playing well for once, it's going to feel mint."

I approached Nethermoor Park as you'd walk past a sleeping Rottweilier that only eats Town fans. A local kid slipped in with us, since his ticket would cost £1 in the company of an adult. After we got through the turnstile he joined a group, one of which shouted at us "You're gonna get battered tonight!" I made a bee-line to the bar and necked a tidy half pint of a Hebden Bridge bitter in time for the players to gather on a clean, slightly warped pitch.

What I heard next shocked me: Neil Aspin's father had passed away from cancer today. The teams lined up and bowed their heads for a minute's silence and the main stand spectators rose, and although by this point I wondered if there was a rational reason for us to stay, Aspin himself was still there by the dugout, showing the astounding resilience we would soon see from the players.

A minute in, Toulson gave it away and an attempt for the right-hand-side of the goal from Guiseley's Peter Davidson trickled through the hands of Eastwood, leaving us 1–0 down. A voice in my head said "9–0 FT."

Seven minutes in and the danger in Guiseley's eyes let's us have it again, with Gavin Rothery finding some space from a header to hit it high up and in. Two goals down and I still hadn't even found a good vantage point from which to shout.

I found my father at the other corner on the ground, who declared we'd lost already and we may as well do what we can until the final whistle. But 20 minutes had elapsed and we hadn't conceded a goal in a while, so was some momentum being picked up? Yes, we had a good amount of possession but were we to let Guiseley on the attack again it'd be safe to assume they'd score, knowing our red carpet of a defense. Your inner dreads as a fan though can be hidden deeper inside you if you encourage your team vocally: "Do it for Neil Aspin!" had to be the words to go by.

Soon, the Shaymen's heads raised up like Pez dispensers. Terry Dixon was to take a free kick from 20 yards instead of the usual from cap'n Tom Baker, and the wall-beating shot was converted from the rebound by Lee Gregory. We had begun playing with some fluency again and sent an early warning to Guiseley that their perfect home streak wasn't so safe. However, the Lions couldn't help but respond towards the end of the first half, and not too long after a looping header got palmed away by Eastwood, he couldn't stop a close-range diving header that Rothery nailed, while I snuck off to see a man about a dog, trying not to think of anything at all.

No, I'm not a professional sports photographer. Well spotted.

More match visuals taken hurriedly because I accidentally deleted all of the older stuff including two goals and me patting Danny Lowe's back in my fervour.

After their second and third, the Guiseley massive felt eager enough to vaguely chant their name a couple of times, and the next peek I heard of the home team's supporters was being told that we were the strongest side to come to Nethermoor so far this season. We were just worried that Town's courage had crumbled again and that another write-off was ahead. And bloody hell, were we given an unexpected treat!


As we kicked off I heard a "Going down, going down, going down!" chant directed at us from the other side of the ground. Must be this non-league grace and spirit we're always told about that teams like bankrolled Guiseley clearly have in abundance. Defiantly, the Shaymen of the second half were world beaters (ie. Conference North beaters). Our game flowed, our players communicated, and Guiseley's nappies got fully twisted over it. It was simply better than anything from the last five games. When Holland squared the ball to Terry Dixon, whose touch went in off defender Danny Ellis, a 3–2 scoreline felt pretty OK in and of itself. Four minutes later, Baker's corner ball reached the bowing head of Terry Dixon, and the loanee himself had opened his account finally, and deservedly.

We could then do it all. Route one was a possible, as were the flanks. Our defenders picked up the stray Guiseley counters and the entire team had grown a foot in height. After ten further minutes it was Dixon again who fed in a route one ball to Gregory. Greggers, as per, took ages with the ball inside the six-yard box: was he erring, or was he dancing with the ball to deceive the frankly petrified Guiseley defense? Either way it worked, thank god, and the feeling of us getting that 4–3 win, a three-goal gain within 15 minutes still feels stunning.

So, a confounded Guiseley kicked off for the final time in the evening, and a particular brand of classiness courtesy of substitute O'Neill's elbow floored Liam Hogan, and the former was shown the red card after six farcical minutes on the pitch. The remainder of the match was still tense but seen out well, and the eighth goal of the game was on our radar more often than theirs. It's always tense, when the three points are in sight.

Neutrals at the match would've found it fantastic, and the Shaymen certainly did. This was the Shaymen we'd seen under Aspin in the previous two seasons, a group of lads who celebrate with each other when they score and always have the goal in their collective mind. If we piece more of these results together, minus the activity at the other end of the pitch, it'll be alright. For now, our current squad have showed easy game is something we ain't.

P.S. I got a programme; a rather uncommon thing for me now considering the dross I spent 17 seconds reading at Evo-Stik level. It's a good 'un! Admittedly tinpot in design (see below) but high in content and effort and ultimately worth the asking price. Props also to the first history I've read of ourselves which wasn't copied off a dormant, semi-literate page on the official website, despite it only documenting two of our 100 seasons of footie. Canny.

Guiseley 3 – 4 Halifax Town; att. 897
Entertainment: 9/10
Ground: 5/10
Pitch: 7/10

I'm a happy Town fan.

Stalybridge, Boston and Workington.

Stalybridge, Boston and Workington.

The odds have been against me posting anything Town this past month and a bit. Following the Mansfield game I set off from Calderdale to Land's End on my bike, before setting off to Seattle for two weeks (depressing), and now my internet's started functioning properly, here I am.

Watching Town in the Conference North is an improvement. Not that I've seen us put 100% in yet, but I know from these three games that even when it's dross, it's better than watching Worksop players in shelf-stacker shirts falling about like babbies in the midwinter night. The worry is, when will we attain the pace that we've found is necessary to challenge in the Conference North?

The first game is Stalybridge Celtic at home, and my lift is so late that I miss their first goal. It was a penalty conceded by Scott McManus again (Slapp MyMissus), and prolific Stalyvegas striker Phil Marsh put it away. Stalyvegas brought 120 or so over who made a bit of noise and initially, we competed quite well with that. But when James Dean squared it in, Lee Gregory beat the 'keeper to smack the ball in at the other side before too long. It's good to be back, and the Shaymen were putting in a good case for themselves against the table leaders, who had already won their first four games. It wasn't too long after however, that Slapp MyMissus this time failed to take down his opposition as Hogan gave away the ball, and as Eastwood failed to catch the ball, Stalyvegas' Jennings placed the ball in. MyMissus was then, thankfully, substituted.

In the second half, tedium set in. Oh, that second half really was a pain. Much possession from defense to attack, but as soon as we got within 25 yards of the net we became hopeless, without ideas and worried to commit to any ball into the box, let alone shot. On the other side, Stalyfuse hadn't bothered to put the game away for themselves as the tempo of the game slowed and slowed. So in the 91st minute what happened? Aaron 'Ardy was taken down in the box, Town were immediately rewarded a penalty, and what does Baker do? He tucks it in. 2–2 at full-time; Stalyfuse's perfect points tally is no more. The Shaymen are mid-table, but they can silence a full-time Stalyfuse outfit who really were getting rowdy.

A loss, a win and three draws preceded Bank Holiday Monday's game at Boston United. Not so good then, but just two points off where we were last year when we, of course, pissed that tinpot league. Arriving in the Fens I was surprised at how pleasant it looked compared to so much of the crap I'd seen the week before in America, despite as being as flat as a pancake. My lift was late and I missed the first 15 minutes. It appeared we'd already scored this time, but it was just the atmosphere! After the past three seasons you're not used to an away game where the two sides' fans are chanting, but today we were being told by the Boston ultras that we were "just a small town in Goiseley." We reiterated that they were "just a small town in Poland," and that was the best part of the first half.

Boston fans were as unsettled as us with their start to the season: fairly unsettled. Part of their team had left for a better life at Grimsby Town, who also now have Boston's manager and assistant manager. Where were Grimsby as a result? In the relegation zone, and with a viral YouTube sensation:

The Pilgrims' main forward right now is, apparently, a Lincolnshire League stalwart. Their attacks were admittedly blunt, but I could easily see the touchline terrace at York St. explode with joy as one of their attacks actually brought some joy. Luckily, even the close efforts were stopped by Simon Eastwood. Meanwhile, attacking towards a terrace of 320 Shaymen, we got closer still. We were alright, followed by good, followed by very unlucky not to get a goal. The closest chances in a tense wait for the one goal that would get us those three points were from Aaron Hardy, whose free header weaved itself above and then left of the goalposts, then Danny Lowe, who was through but couldn't find a trajectory Boston's 42-year-old 'keeper hadn't got covered.

This begged the question, why was it our defenders who got closest to the goal? Why not our strikers? Of course, Jamie Vardy, now one of the non-league's biggest names, is our squad's long-gone number 7. His pace beat the back line countless times and he was a stark joy to watch, a progressively greater pleasure before becoming a forbidden one, leaving for full-time pay at Fleetwood. But he wasn't the only one who brought us this far down the pitch last season, so our remaining strike force shouldn't be this lumpen. With ten minutes to go the goal seemed imminent, but it didn't end up coming and we were left to be philosophical over a 0–0 draw. One of those fairly entertaining 0–0 draws.

Three points had to come at home to Workington Town, and it did. My lift was late and I missed Wukky's first goal. But again we came back, and again it was Lee Gregory who found a close position to finish it. And like a repeat, Tom Baker scored a penalty. Then in the second half, a corner ball came to Tommy again from 20 yards out, which he blasted through the centre, avoiding all bodies in the box and clumsily going through the Wukky 'keeper. I'd divulge further but to make no bones about it, it was a dull match not worth describing in detail both because I already have with others, because these reports are starting to add up in word count as it is, and of course, I'm not being paid to do this. We won 3–1, we won it at a boring ol' canter, and it's encouraging we can still do that.

Halifax Town 1 – 0 Scunthorpe United; 16/07/11.

Halifax Town 1 – 0 Scunthorpe United; 16/07/11.

Revenge can often be strange and contrived. I walked into the afternoon's lectures with a big ol' sadface when I heard that at lunchtime, Alan Knill had suddenly left my "other" team, Bury, to help save Scunthorpe United from relegation. That weekend the Iron lost 6–0 at Norwich, and Alan Knill's new Barmy Army finished the season 24th on goal difference, dropping down to League 1. It'd be a bit of karma to beat the highest-ranked team in our friendly list this season with Knill still at their helm.

Several individual performances stood out from a watchable game. The first was that of injury-dogged Nicky Gray, who with his head up narrowed himself between two Iron defenders and hit the right post with his edge-of-the-box shot. Throughout the match, Vardy had the attention of an umpteenth full-time outfit, continuously dodging defenders and laying up precise crosses. Simon Eastwood's clean sheet was one he worked on keeping, and the Matt Smith lookalike had a nimble edge over the departed #1 Jonathan Hedge, coming up to collect a close Scunthorpe shot, which he saved again on the rebound twice to a relieved applause.

However, even the meekest Scunthorpe team, ie. the one we saw yesterday, could build up a few attempts, even if they were just by chance. Around the 75th minute, one of their numberless substitutes that came on in a Knill's mid-half line-up overhaul was adjudged to have trod on Greg Anderson's bootlaces before he calmly put the ball past Eastwood. Laughs turned to worry again towards the end, against the Vardy-led run-of-play as Scunthorpe found an opening but hit the post.

Scunthorpe substitute half the population of Scunthorpe.

Then came this:

Liam Hogan intercepted a pass and ran with it down the right. Looking like the flag of the Isle of Man, he took it in a straight line from 70 yards to 30 yards: there he gave it a bash and in it went off the bar. Possibly the best goal I've seen at the Shay, and it was from a centre-back during pre-season. Magic it was!

1–0 at 88 minutes, and the ref blew soon after. After a handshake with Neil Aspin shorter than most fist-bumps, Alan Knill plodded into the dressing rooms looking more like a distressed Woody Allen than a football manager.

Mossley 1 – 5 Halifax Town; 09/07/2011.

Mossley 1 – 5 Halifax Town; 09/07/2011.

I sympathise for Mossley80, but I need to clear that up. I don't mean that in a way of giving charidee to the more tinpot in our lives; it's he himself that makes out a life of following Mossley to be like fishing an endless clump of hair from the basin. Like me at times, it'll take him days after the event to muster the courage to write a match day report. Just a few days ago he surpassed himself by writing a report for the season's final game: over two months after the event itself. In his defense, it'd be impossible to describe the latter half of Mossley's 2010/11 season as anything but BLEAK, all facts in mind. What Mossley80 manages to do is paint in every shade of gray that was last season's Mossley experience with adroit skill that makes it read as both hilarious and tragic.

And though he didn't attend Saturday's match, Mossley80 missed what I'd say was a pre-season highlight. Pleasant weather, and a few points of interest on and off-field. Taking a place on the terraces was a friend of mine on tour from America, coming from Orange County to Mossley. What? He was impressed. Mistakes were made around the oh-so-confusing 2pm kick-off but little action was missed tbh, this being a friendly. 

The Lilywhites themselves have pride in their 100% record against the Shaymen at Seel Park. The only time we've been here as FC Halifax Town we lost an abject 3–1 on a cold night in Sept '08, newly-reformed and dressed in badgeless, plain-blue shirts and shorts. The Jim Vince team that never got on that night, and never would for the rest of the season. Today the sun shines, the Pennines are in full view, and Town are favourites for a third consecutive promotion into the Conference Premier. A contrasting "where are they now?" reunion. Though Seel Park looks fine in the sun, the greatest part of the ground has to be the Mossley squad's nude 2011 calendar on sale in the club shop. As tempting as it is, how many of the models have now left the club?

The furious face of concentration.

Mossley earns the award of being the first ever ground I've been to that offers a full vegetarian experience. Cheese & onion pies can be had, along with chunky chips and mushy peas that my O.C. pal mistook for guacamole. That's a substantial meal! (Shut up, it is.) A tasty one, too. Within the time it took to be eaten, goal number one came courtesy of none other than Jamie Vardy, clear with a short finish going downhill towards Mossley's oldie-but-goodie "Kop" end. After that, conveniently within the time it takes to lump a load of peas on your plastic fork, Mossley had a long-range free kick despatched by Joe Heap, an 18-year-old striker who proved prolific in Mossley's youth set-up. Within those two minutes, any scouts still voyeuristically peering at Vardy would've been completely distracted by the youngster's effort, a top corner effort that could suppress any pre-season yawn. 

We were impressed but weren't going to be happy to move into half-time level. A foul from Mossley's #2 made the player forget about any notion of "friendly" after which a skirmish ensued, Town fans getting a little fed-up with the referee who was seemingly showing his eighth-tier credentials. After a third foul went unpunished outside the area, the Mossley defense kicked out the ball only for it to reach an ambitious Danny Lowe, who drove it in from 30 yards. Whey.

 In-keeping with American football, half-time entertainment was observed. Willing to make the most of Mossley's 100th anniversary of playing at Seel Park, a dressed-up club representative took to the pitch to sing Nessun Dorma. Oh dear you may say, did he mime to a karaoke track? Was it tone-deaf screeching? Did the Tannoy decide to act up? None of the above—the man did a fine service to the song that none of the 300-strong crowd were ever going to appreciate. Trust me, it wasn't bad!

I'm not reliable enough to catch any match action, but at least I got a snap that demonstrates the pitch slope we sussed out.

The second-half finished 'em off without either team giving up the ghost. 3–1, 4–1, then 5–1, where a Lee Gregory header hit the bar and took advantage of the Mossley contours, bouncing home from a bump in the hallowed turf. We were set to make it six or more as the floodgates opened, but were happy to see an enthusiastic display from all involved bar a few dispirited gents in the Lilywhites' defence. Two leagues below us, Mossley may be the lowest-ranked team we'll play this year and there's nowt to be alarmed about so far.

Oh god, and one of those golden fan comments came visitin'. A few Shayman fans were getting wound up by the youthful, emaciated linesman ("linesboy") skipping down the touchline . . .

Fan: Teagan! Tell that linesman to do his job properly!

Fan's two kids, in unison: LINESMAN! DO YOUR JOB PROPERLYYY!

Indoctrination at its best.

The full-time whistle blowed and we were treated to a particularly maudlin ditty, Handbags and the Glad Rags by the Stereophonics, a worldwide ode to the discarded polystyrene teacup and chipped paint falling from old stands. Perhaps Mossley80 was here in spirit.

Mossley 1 – 5 Halifax Town

Entertainment: 7/10

Cack-Handed Away Guide IX: GUISELEY AFC.

Cack-Handed Away Guide IX: GUISELEY AFC.

Nethermoor Park
Otley Road
Leeds
LS20 8BT

Nickname

The Lions

But we call them

Disguiseley, Harry Ramsden AFC

Billy basics

Managers: Steve Kittrick, Chris Holland

Founded: 1909

2010/11: 5th, Conf North

2009/10: 1st, Northern Premier League

2008/09: 4th, Northern Premier League

Highest position: 2010/11: 5th, Conf North

Average attendance 2010/11: 472

Who are Harry Ramsden AFC?

Harry Ramsden AFC didn't just form for the halibut. Oh no, they were really salmon else, an amateur team formed by local "enthusiasts" and full of that non-league sole. Skate-ing from the Wharfedale League to the Leeds League right over to the West Riding County League in the first few decades of the 20th century. They kept a brill-iant record in the various West Riding leagues, winning championships and the local Wharfedale Cup nine times out of ten in the '60s. The whiting was on the wall for the West Yorkshire league when they caught a whiff of the Yorkshire League, finding a plaice in its top tier in the late '70s, hooking up the West Riding Challenge Cup thrice in a row.

In 1982 they scampi-d off to the newly-formed NECL Premier League, taking a couple of pikes at the promotion spot before getting there fo' real in 1991. They reached the FA Vase final in '90, '91 and '92, and were squids in when they won it on their promotion season. Success abounded and the Guiseley faithful were clam-ing for more. It came when they won promotion to the top tier of the Northern Premier League in 1994. Haddock they reached the end of their boundless success? Oh my cod, of course not! In their first NPL season, dab-handed Guiseley earned an FA Cup 1st Round tie against Carlisle United at Valley Parade in front of 6,548 fans, but were battered.

Guiseley then flounder-ed in 2000 when they were relegated back to the NPL Division 1 North, but fans couldn't be too trout-faced when league restructuring saw them in the Premier again in 2004. The Conference North promotion bid had begun, but something started to smell fishy. The fish smell turned out to be one of burning: their main stand was subject to an arson attack in 2008 that would've cost something to the tuna £20,000 to mend. The ruined stand clearly needed a good sturgeon. It didn't take long for Guiseley to confront the problem and mullet over; a replacement 300-seater stand was built in 2009.

Guiseley got their latest bite of success in 2010 as they perch-ed at the top of the Northern Premier League on the final day of the season, and became a minnow in the Conference North. This lowly status was a red herring: they earnt a 5th place in 2010/11, bowing out of the play-offs in the final at AFC Telford United's plaice (you've already done that one - Ed.). Guiseley continue their search for an umpteenth promotion in the 2011/12 season, and are currently preparing their home-bass for Conference National standard football. Tinpot? Guiseley frankly don't give a pollock. They're officially the second most threatening Conference North team in West Yorkshire.

The ground

Sources 1 2

Enough with the fish puns (the only reason being I've run out of them). The idea of Guiseley's ground being in the Conference National in its old form would blow claims of Throstle Nest being a garden shed straight out of the water. The new main stand is a smallie of course, and a temporary stand beside it has been added, as well as a few steps behind the adjacent Railway End. With this in mind it's all-systems-go at Nethermoor Park for competing in a national league for the first time in their increasingly-successful history.

The town

You guessed it—Guiseley is home to Britain's best-loved and largest fish and chips restaurant: big ol' Harry Ramsden's. Where else would you go? Guiseley itself is a Leeds 'burb in all honesty, the ground located on the Otley Road that goes straight up from the University. That's more or less it. The ground is just up from the station with frequent trains from Leeds, as well as buses.

Will we need to segregate?

With just 200 or so stuck in a corner of the New Bucks Head on their big play-off final day, it seems as if our nearest Conference neighbours won't be prepared to pack out San Shayro.

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Cack-Handed Away Guide VIII: GAINSBOROUGH TRINITY FC.

Cack-Handed Away Guide VIII: GAINSBOROUGH TRINITY FC.

Gainsborough Trinity FC
Northolme
Gainsborough
Lincolnshire
DN21 2QW

Nickname

The Holy Blues, The Recreationists, Trinity

But we call them

Gainsboring, Tinpot Trinity

Billy basics

Managers: Brian Little, Gavin Ward

Founded: 1873

2010/11: 18th, Conf North

2009/10: 14th, Conf North

2008/09: 13th, Conf North

Highest position: 2004/05, 2006/07: 11th, Conf North

Average attendance 2010/11: 378

Who are Gainsboring?

Pub teams? In the Conference North? Nuh-uh! Only if you're Droylsden. Gainsboring can be considered summin' else entirely: a church team. A frackin' posh church team of that, set up by Old Harrovian vicar G.L. Hodgkinson. And did this bring them riches? Did the Northolme become holy ground? Read on, dear non-leaguer.

Gainsboring were precocious in the little success they've had, earning a Third Round tie in the FA Cup way back in 1887, and ever since they've regularly met the giants in the FA Cup, but just haven't got around to killing them yet. Just a couple of years later they also won the Lincolnshire Senior Cup, and have repeated this success another seventeen times. They always have won the odd regional trophy and little beyond. In the league however, they have the most average of stories.

Previously on this "Alternative" Away Guide, I mentioned Spartizan Blythe have never been relegated. Well, Gainsbore haven't either. And neither have they been promoted. Gainsboring joined the Midland League in 1889, earning election to the old Division Two in 1896. They became non-league again six years later after being voted out, rejoining the Midland League. Over the decades they were champions of the Midland League thrice, but to football's decision-makers at the time, actual promotion was something that happened to other teams in other leagues. They were founder members of the Northern Premier League in 1969, where they stayed like dry rot until becoming founder members of the Conference North in 2004. In recent times the Bores have cried "Enough!" to this mediocrity, bringing a few professionals in including new gaffer Brian Little. The result? Further mediocrity that included last season's relegation battle.

Nonetheless, the money carries on being pumped through by the shilling at Gainsborough. Fresh, cherub-like youthful faces have been added to the squad's make-up as well as Football League dropouts, and in a completely unwarranted move, plans are being made by chairman Peter Swann to build a 4,000-seater stadium elsewhere in Gainsborough. After a few years of planning it over and still without a site in mind, this move smacks of optimism.

Among the Grimsby, Boston, Lincoln and Scunthorpe rejects, a young Neil Warnock once ran laps at the Northolme.

The ground

Sources 1 2

Moving seamlessly on, it seems a shame to let a stadium like this go to waste. At 138 years of age, The Northolme must be one of Britain's oldest intact footballing venues. The size is decent and mighty spacious for Gainsboring's 300 or so home fans, and even the parades of Shaymen may appear dotted over its terraces. We also get a sorta two-tier main stand and a promise of decent views. Plans to transport the few home fans they've got to a vast and somehow "self-sustaining" cavern elsewhere in the town would even make Park Ave's Bob Blackburn smile and nod pitifully.

Models pose in an artist's impression of the new stadium.

The town

Gainsborough is an historic market town on the River Trent home to 20,000 or so lapsed spud-farmers, and almost became England's capital city as recently as 1013. Since then it has resisted change to become a new town with tenuous links to Sheffield.

Aside from the club house, two pubs can be found in the town: the Horse & Jockey and Elm Cottage, both on Church St. Trains can be taken from Leeds to Gainsborough with a transfer at either Meadowhall or Doncaster.

Will we need to segregate?

That's just mean.

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Cack-Handed Away Guide VII: EASTWOOD TOWN FC.

Cack-Handed Away Guide VII: EASTWOOD TOWN FC.

Eastwood Town FC

Coronation Park
Chewton Street
Eastwood
Nottinghamshire
NG163HB

Nickname

The Badgers

But we call them

Clint

Billy basics

Manager: ?!

Founded: 1892

2010/11: 4th, Conf North

2009/10: 10th, Conf North

2008/09: 1st, Northern Premier League

Highest position: 2010/11: 4th, Conf North

Average attendance 2010/11: 460

Who are Clint?

Clint Eastwood existed for a couple of years in between the great wars before cropping up for good in 1953, this time as an outfit to be reckoned with for all other counties league teams. Indeed, nothing said "We're Eastwood and we're here" more than a home crowd of 2,723 at home to Enfield in a 1965 Amateur Cup tie. It was in 1971 that Clint began creeping up the leagues, going from the Midland Alliance, all the way up through however many North East Counties divisions there are, and into the Northern Premier League. A cheeky relegation back to the NECL came in 2003 but they returned on the rebound in 2004, rising to the NPL Premier in 2007 and to the Conference North in 2009.

The biggest developments have come in these past few years for Eastwood. A switch from volunteers to paid staff off the pitch has played a part in their attempt for Conference National football in the near future. A great FA Cup run during their last season in the NPL saw them beat SPL side Brackley Town, League Two's Wycombe Wanderers and bow out to Kettering Town in the Third Round. Yes, Kettering in the Third Round. Not even Scunthorpe or Cheltenham. Kettering.

This season saw Eastwood finish 4th, a few weeks after failing to pass the ground grading regulations, allowing 6th-placed Guiseley a passport into them, despite being pretty damn tinpot themselves. It's like the really popular kid not inviting you to her birthday party, but letting in snot-faced Kevin from the year below who still shouts "WASSUUUUP?!?!" at everyone he meets. Luckily for us at least, their development plans for meeting the Conference National guidelines have not been sufficient in convincing their players to be patient, defender Haggerty even jumping ship to join the Shaymen. For Eastwood, the forthcoming season will be a challenge for them to pull off convincingly as the scaffold sprouts up across the ground with a skeletal first team.

The ground

Sources 1 2

Currently Coronation Park is two small seated stands and two small terraces behind either goal. All but the main stand is scheduled for redevelopment however, in order to bump up the capacity to 5,000, should it ever be needed for a town marginally larger than Elland. Its presence in the community will be boosted and large terraced stands are planned behind either goal. For now it should be alright, provided it isn't raining.

The town

It's another smallie, and an ex-mining town on the border between Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire. Decent pubs are as yet unknown, but a museum dedicated to the native author D.H. Lawrence stands, as well as a bleakly large retail centre which I'll mention and plainly refuse to recommend, but it's there if you want a shiny new box to sit on.

By public transport, you can either get to Nottingham by train after exchanging at Wakefield Westgate or Leeds, and Eastwood itself is without a station. Do whatever you did to reach Hucknall. It's probably exactly the same place in real terms.

Will we need to segregate?

Doubt it.

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Cack-Handed Away Guide VI: DROYLSDEN FC.

Cack-Handed Away Guide VI: DROYLSDEN FC.

Droylsden FC

Butchers Arms Ground
Market Street
Droylsden
Manchester
M437AW

Nickname

The Bloods

But we call them

Dresden

Billy basics

 

Managers: Dave Pace, Dave Pace and Dave Pace

Founded: 1892

2010/11: 8th, Conf North

2009/10: 5th, Conf North

2008/09: 7th Conf North

Highest position: 2007/08: 24th, Conference National. Swag.

Average attendance 2010/11: 311

Who are Dresden?

In the 1800s, in a pub somewhere in Ashton, there lived a landlord. He had a pleasant joint with a sizable beer garden round the back. Sadly for him though, it was always occupied by a group of schoolchildren having a good old kickabout. Furious about this, the landlord stomped his feet and gnashed his teeth at them, confiscating any ball that rolled his way. But the boys would still come, hoofing the ball here and there on the well-cut lawn, chatting and chortling amongst themselves. But the landlord had had enough. On his last straw, he erected a sign: "No Ball Games."

Overnight, the beer garden turned from a summery haven full of birdsong and children's playful screams, to a wint'ry cow field full of crabgrass and potholes. It was muddy, frosted over and abandoned. It was in such a state that even a Prescot Cables fan couldn't identify it as a worthy playing field. Eventually, even his most trustworthy clientele stopped coming to the pub, and the landlord was on the verge of selling his wife to a slimy suitor from Skelmersdale. 

 

The landlord then took a sudden turn. He uprooted his No Ball Games sign and opened the back gate for the children to enjoy playing on the lawn once again. Overnight the beer garden went again from dead to alive. The children were happier than ever to have a kickabout, his pub was making roaring trade, and his wife was giving him the best sex ever. One day years later, the now elderly and ailing landlord hobbled into the garden with a pint of Joseph Holt's finest, and with a new generation of children still playing football around him, he expired. How the children wept around him, The Selfish Landlord who became a grandfather to them all, the youngest boy wrapping a string of fresh sausages around his neck. With that, they tried to take themselves more seriously and formed a club in his honour. That club became Droyslden FC, and they play in that beer garden today, The Butcher's Arms. 

Since the landlord's demise, the grounds have again turned into a desolate, wint'ry, empty area devoid of anything human.

In the late '90s though, everything went on the up again. Manager, Chairman and Utter Football Genius Dave Pace™ took over and won them the NPL First Division North championship in 1998/99, before they became founder members of the Conference North in the 2004/05 season. They became champions of said division in the 2006/07 season, and enjoyed a season of Conference National members moaning, "THAT thing passed the ground grading requirements?" The stay was cut short due to them being so abject that they only took three points off the debilitating Halifax Town FC over the entire season. They have remained in the Conference North for three better-than-average seasons. Utter Football Genius Dave Pace™manages them to this date.

The ground

Picture sources 1 2 3

The Butcher's Arms is a vaguely famous footballing venue. For it is the tradition that, for one home game every season, Bloods fans are invited to turn up in butchers overalls and walk around a stadium sprinkled with sawdust. Whether they want to have a butchers at the on-field performance is another matter. However, they have recently been banned from spraying each other with blood, as was the tradition. It's political correctness gone mad!

For the interested Town fan, there's the elevated main stand pictured above, a small terrace going down the opposite touchline and a nicely-sized terrace behind one goal. Behind the other goal is plain ol' hard standing. Last time I visited, someone had kindly left a tenner on the ground for me.

The town

Uh-oh. It's the most innercity Tameside town there is. Droylsden is packed with Mancunians overflowing from the city centre and in the small town itself, there's little to write home about, partly due to the overflow including a criminal element. Those who have rose above the rabble include Communist Party leader Harry Pollitt and budding Manchester United forward Danny Welbeck.

There is no train station in Droylsden and there may as well be no police station either. Take a bus either from Ashton or the city centre.

Will we need to segregate?

Nah.

OFFICIAL SITE

THE BLOODS FORUM, IF YOU GET THAT DESPERATE
REDUNDANT FANSITE

Leave a comment reminding me how I'm a lazy journo.

Retford United 0 – 2 Halifax Town; 09/04/11.

Retford United 0 – 2 Halifax Town; 09/04/11.

One of the less flattering stats I can uncover for the Shaymen is that previous to our title-winning match at Retford this Saturday, we hadn't kept a clean sheet on aggregate against any team we'd played twice or more this season. For example, we beat Burscough 2–0 away and 3–2 at home, Ashton lost 3–0 at home to us and 1–0 away to us, but scored against us in the FA Cup, etc. Retford's statistics for this game said it all though. Shots off target: 0. Shots on target: 0. Corners: 0. So for a team who made a few attacks in the game, how did they not get any shooting practice? Throw-ins, dear reader. Retford is the European capital of the long throw-in, and the Badgers even hit the post with one this weekend.

Prior to the great badger cull, we'd drawn to Matlock to deny us the title last weekend. On Wednesday, Buxton could no longer catch us up when ex-Shaymen Andy Campbell scored the only goal for Whitby to beat them at the Turnbull Ground. This meant Colwyn could only overtake us . . . if they overcame a goal difference of 54 on us. With Retford propping up the table for the entirety of the season and Colwyn at Buxton, we were DEFINITELY DEFINITELY going to win.

That we did. It took us a little while to work out the pitch at Cannon Park, which had gone from swamp-like when we played there against Worksop in February to like a chicken's mudbath, and then we proceeded to play friendly-style football against a team filled with self-hatred. This self-hatred peaked at around 20 minutes when their #2 and #7 started fighting. Believe in your team, Retford. Cannon Park is still shockingly small and it was almost pointless to sing on hard standing. The park ground I went to today could've held more fans due to its grassy banks, and save the odd dandelion, the pitch was in a similar condition.

Our goal came when we broke on the 23rd minute, Vardy laying it to Lee Gregory who dodged it in an offside position, leaving Holland to come from nowhere. Clean through, he let the ball tumble in from the edge of the box. Two Town fans got on the pitch. Soon after Vardy almost did the same, but took it too far. A few minutes later the Town fans nearly got as noisy again: the lino made a poor decision to award them a goal kick, and when he ran off down the touchline, the flag fell off its stick. He retreated in embarrassment. A few Shaymen stole my "You should've got some Evo-Stik!" line. Liam Hogan made a textbook header from a Garner corner at the close of the half to satisfactorily put us 2–0 up.

The second half was low on entertainment, I'm afraid, but Baker and Holland were very watchable as individuals. I'd be a little worried by this scoreline normally, but the Town were going up. At the final whistle we invaded the pitch. Having done such a rigorous circuit on Friday evening instead of leaping over the barrier I collapsed over it, my sunglasses falling off pitifully, which the Shaymen Player just about missed out on filming, thank god. The Retford players wished us the best and for the next ten minutes we celebrated with our now-topless players in an open rural ground in north Nottinghamshire. The fans jumped up and down singing under a huge FC Halifax Town flag with our all-time top-scorer James Dean. If there's something football's lacking as you go up the leagues . . .

Today is Sunday 10th April. Temperatures have been above 20ºC for the best part of the day. We have five league games left, but today our pre-season began. We'll be looking at how to play in the Conference North, who to pick and who to say goodbye to. We've begun a long promotion party and I hope that you can attend.

 

 

Retford United 0 – 2 Halifax Town; att. 829

Match: 5/10
Atmosphere: 8/10
Food: 5/10
Drink: N/A, no ale
Bar: dark and showing the Grand National, yawn
People: didn't see any!
Programme: 6/10
Town: N/A
Ground: 1/10
Talent: 5/10
Overall day: 9/10

Halifax Town 2 – 2 Matlock Town; 02/04/11.

Halifax Town 2 – 2 Matlock Town; 02/04/11.

If we'd won this one and Buxton dropped points, we'd have won the title once and for all. HALIFAAAXXX TOOOWWWNNN.

Which is precisely what didn't happen, despite going up in the second minute as a Vardy cross turned into a Holland header which turned into a Gregory tap-in as the three Matlock players running to the line were left helpless. An easy start as any, but during a threatening attack from the Gladiators 'Ardy blocked a shot off the line, before missing the ball and felling the soon-to-be Torquay full-timer Ross Hannah. The penalty was taken by the leader of Matlock's one-man-band himself, and the intimidating noise from the South Stand wasn't enough to deter him. After 14 minutes, it stood 1–1. For a while, the atmosphere which made Saturday's crowd appear larger than the official figure was brought down enough for, say, 30 or so travelling Matlock fans to become audible. I remember a similar amount coming from Farnborough midweek several years ago and finding it very funny, but now I react to it with a "Hey wow, haven't they got a great bunch of fans."

 

We remained relatively entertaining for a first half however, and were rewarded for shining with confidence as Vardy squared the ball in for Gregory to tap it in again. We were once again content to turn up on time for the promotion party under a cool spring sun, with Ossett-Buxton scoreless. As those scores stood we were mathematically going up, but sadly one goal went the wrong way in either game.

The Gladiators returned in the second half with two substitutions. Ross Hannah off, and their number nine off, though of course no-one knew his name as he wasn't Ross Hannah. This should've meant a more defensive second half for them surely, but on the 50th minute we gave CM Scott Phelan the first run since his injury, and for a quarter of an hour Town domination became the fashion. This is when we should've scored to make it 3–1, to make Matlock fall apart. As for Gladiators, they were far more interested in falling about the place than putting up a fight. Well, when they were drawing anyway. The chance that really should've put the game away was man of the match Garner's long-ranger which the 'keeper dropped like a flying cactus, and Lee Gregory couldn't reply to make it a hat-trick. A similar free kick to Garner's shot got easily saved, while a Matlock free kick at the other end went under the wall, bounced off the bottom post and Hedge displayed feline reflexes to box its rebound out of the way. Matlock's chance of the match was followed by a lovely bit of slapstick where Lee Gregory booted a ball for the net, and instead it met their #3's face, which floored the poor bastard.

And then, the 88th minute. Some Matlock player threw himself to the ground as Tommy Ten Men Baker leapt for the ball and for the millionth time in his career, wee Tom was punished for being the one to stay on two feet following the challenge. Matlock had a second penalty, and made it a 100% conversion rate. I imagine Matlock fans would always have a bit of dissatisfaction for the way they took a point back to the Peak District there, as I would've. With four minutes added time we lacked the tempo to create anything from that point, and as still-proud Shaymen left the ground, Aspin stormed onto the pitch to tell the ref' his interpretation of events. Oh well, we wanted to win the title at Retford's cow field anyway.

Halifax Town 2 – 2 Matlock Town; att. 2132.

Entertainment: 7/10

Kendal Town 2 – 4 Halifax Town; 26/03/11.

Kendal Town 2 – 4 Halifax Town; 26/03/11.

So, another one of those away trips for the whole family. But unlike Whitby, which was called off, and Buxton, which we roundly lost, let's do this one right.

Setting off at half 11 got us there for 1pm, before stopping off at the Ring O' Bells Free House near the ground, a no-nonsense pub with a true soul. Conveniently, this was also next to a record fair with all its Associates records going for £2 each, so I left with four of them. I'd made some profit from this away day already. Contrasting sounds rang from outside however, as a few groups of merry Shaymen sung on their way to The Lakeland Radio "Stadium." Arriving there just before kick-off I came through some turnstiles that overlooked the whole complex. The ground is dripping with character. A graveyard overlooks the ground, with housing on the other side. All four stands are painted black-and-white, two of which occupy the touchline straight ahead of me and could contain 200 or so each. The stand behind the goal to my immediate left is set out with steps like a coliseum's; one side of it has a few rows of seats sheltered with the smallest of roofs a few metres above. This roof operates as an awning for the clubhouse overlooking the stand and ground, so mentally weaker "fans" could stay inside and half-watch the England game. On the opposite touchline is a very small black-and-white terraced stand,  succeeded by some long grass banking which on a day like this accommodated a few hundred mingling supporters of the two Towns. Behind the goal at the very end the Lakeland Radio "Stadium" runs out of character. 'Sall hard standing. A complex set-up, but the main plus however is the at-one-with-nature style toilets you get!

 As I descend the steps and take my place, the 891-strong crowd stops to perfectly observe a minute's silence in memory of our assistant manager Trevor Storton, the man who made his name one of legends at Chester City, Park Avenue and finally Halifax Town in the short remainder of his life. Our players had printed out a set of shirts in his memory and hat-trick hero Vardy had his match ball signed by the team and sent to his family. The whistle then went, and a drunken dozen of Town fans on the coliseum steps attempted to chant when they'd lost all sense of rhythm. They were armed with one of the golden cats you find at Chinese takeaways, and a kazoo through which Maff made a phenomenal impression of the atrocious state of the Tannoy system at the Shay: "Today's official attendance ladies and gentlemen—mththmthththtmhtmtmthnm!"

The positivity around the ground got to Danny Lowe, who went further than his position required to slam one in out of the grasp of the Kendal 'keeper. All Shaymen's eyes were smiling, and we sung "There's only one Trevor Storton." Goals were definitely going to come at this match when both teams were fully focused, the pitch's width allowing for wing action, and its surface good enough to play balls on the deck although we were winning headers from the first minute. Danny Holland carried a presence during this half, but he remained absent from the scoresheet. Rough 'n tumbles in our own area earned Kendal a penalty which went off the post and in. Kendal's firepower continued as much as ours, with a powerful shot of theirs just about missing the middle left of Hedge's net. At half-time the Towns were drawing and England were 2–0 up. Lampard and Bent had surpassed themselves by scoring the most boring goals possible for a bunch of world-class millionaires.

After a half-time of watching said "highlights," and watching a few Shaymen gather around Deano in the clubhouse shouting "DEANO, DEANO, DEANO" followed by "YORKSHIRE, YORKSHIRE, YORKSHIRE" and "WE HATE BURNLEY AND WE HATE BURNLEY" (sadly Deano's team of choice), the Shaymen were back on the pitch. The half started a little worryingly as ball control just wasn't happening against an eager Kendal side, but Lee Gregory's move to the right wing gave him an opportunity to cross it into the area in the 54th minute, which met Vardy's own pace faster than the goalie's and the thing went bang in off his head. What followed were a series of Town attacks, including a one-on-one with Lee Gregory, which the Kendal keeper did well to take from his feet. The next goal came at the other side however, a suspected handball and a lack of tackling enough for Kendal substitute Carl Osman to move into space and shoot the goal of the game from the corner of the box to the opposite corner of the net. He'd made it 2–2 after 79 minutes, and the Shaymen would have to dig up a little character again to come back.

Kendal's plans were thwarted within the next couple of minutes by Danny Holland's pass that weaved between the defenders, leaving Vardy to net the top corner before the 'keeper could get to him. Soon after Vardy delivered a firm "never again" to Kendal, their number two clearing the ball the wrong way which went straight to Vardy's feet, his left-footed first-touch going straight through Kendal's beleaguered goalie and into the back of the net. With greedier Town fans pressing the Shaymen for a fifth the ref announced ceasefire and the young steward in charge of the scoreboard wiped some sweat from his brow.

It is now possible for the Shaymen to have the title by Saturday. Get down to the Shay for then and make some noise.

Kendal Town 2 – 4 Halifax Town; att. 891

Ground: 9/10 (probably falls to 6/10 in the rain)

Pitch: 7/10
Programme: 7/10
Talent: N/A
Entertainment: 8/10
Food: N/A