Lovely email in to the club from Alasdair Park, a friend of mine, that I thought I'd share.
Dear The Altrincham Family,
I was deeply saddened yesterday to learn of the passing of our great friend and beacon of positivity Mark Eckersall. I was informed by my best friend Andrew Flynn and did not want to understand the words on my phone screen. A moment where the world stopped turning.
I find it hard to comprehend the scale of the loss for The Golf Road End and for the club at large. Mark was irreplaceable, a Giant of a man with a gravitational pull. You were happy simply to oscillate in his orbit for a few hours on a damp October afternoon in Stafford, Darlington or Nantwich.
I believe it to be a loss that will not only be felt at Moss Lane, but in the North West Non-League Scene at large. 'Ecky' was the embodiment of all that is good about Non-League Football. Since I moved to Vienna in 2018, a Rapid Wien Season Ticket has made top-level football far more affordable, but the levels of the pyramid in England have been hard to replace. The grounds, the coach and train journeys, the view at Matlock, the smelly terrace farts, passive smokes and pints. Of such memories is the textile of life sewn.
I often had the privilege to be Mark's companion in the coach seat next to him, a deliberate ploy on my part because it would make the afternoon immeasurably more enjoyable. Through the tears yesterday the stories all came flooding back. The Phoenix Nights quotes, the Max and Paddy impressions, 'We've got them by the b**ls here' when we were 1-nil up and looking for a second. Steve Coogan impressions were a particular favourite ‘WELCOME TO BIG SCHOOL’, regaling us with The Vauxhall Motors and Tottenham FA Cup stories for the umpteenth time or reenacting Brian Flynn’s far from neutral commentary of James Lawrie’s Play-Off Final winner, “IT’S JAMES LAWRIE, IT’S JAMES F***CKIN LAWRIE”.
It was Ecky's humour that will abide, the soundbites that flowed over the top of our heads from the back of ‘The Golf Road’: "It's liquid, It's liquid", for when we were knocking the ball about with aplomb or the time-honoured "He's just kicked that!", when a below average opposition defender somehow succeeded with a raking Juan Sebastian Veron style 50-yard raking ball with backspin. Talking of the number 50, "50p HEAD!" will remain a classic, for use when an opposition header was about to clear a high ball forward unopposed and Ecky somehow believed comparing his head to the heptagon-shaped coin would somehow lead to a misjudgment and an Alty throw-in, which it admittedly did on many an occasion.
The moment that meant the most to me was Wimbledon Away which looking back must have been Saturday March 6th 2010, a 1-1 draw to leave us top of the Jack Jolly patented ‘part-time mini-league’ in 14th place in the Conference National. I was being egged on to start songs that afternoon and in my youthful exuberance attempted to start one I'd thought up myself:
A-L-T
R-I-N-C
H-A-M
WE'RE ALTY FC!!
Understandably, nobody joined in but high on my right hand side I heard 'Good Parky, Good Parky, I like that'. My 15-year old self was thrilled to get such a vote of confidence from the conductor, the main man, Big Bird. The soundtrack to that afternoon was Ecky imploring our wide players to win a sneaky penalty with the booming instruction 'BOX AND DIVE BOX AND DIVE!!' from the back of the stand at Plough Lane. Mark was never one for cheating, but the winning of questionable penalties on the quest to stay in The Conference was never high up on the list of sins. The match ended 1-1 and the equalizer did come from the spot.
Darlington Away the season after is also an afternoon for the ages. Damian Reeves, as so often in his time in WA15, had put us 1-0 up in the closing stages as we edged towards a patented Smash and Grab Raid on the Road. From then on we all, Ecky included, started celebrating Free Kicks and Goal Kicks as if we had stretched our barely deserved lead. “OURSS, IT’SSS OURS THAT! YASSS’”.
As any football fan can empathise, time slips on interminably as in a vacuum as soon as your team have the lead, your life flashing before your eyes in the six minutes of added time. “SIX MINUTES, WHERE’S THAT COME FROM REF, IT’S QUARTER TO BLEEDING TEN AND I WANT TO GO HOME?!” Ecky made those times of stomach somersaults so much more bearable.
In recent times the club has had to say goodbye to many integral individuals. The Golf Road End in the Sky will now welcome a man we all loved and whose memory we will forever cherish. Mark, enjoy the heavenly Greasy Chip Butties.
My heartfelt condolences go to Jane, Tyler and Connor at this desperately sad time. Thank you for allowing us to share our rain-sodden Saturday afternoons and floodlit Tuesdays in uncovered terraces with the man you simply called Husband and Dad.
Yours in Football,
Alasdair Park