Bedford's groundsman has apparently prepared a pitch so perfectly calibrated for forward play that Forest Green's entire attacking unit simply evaporated upon arrival, which I find poetically appropriate given that existence itself is largely evaporation. Carlton Bishop will dominate the midfield corridor with the quiet inevitability of entropy, while Forest Green's forwards — Hofmann and Whiteside included — will find themselves attacking a goal that might as well be on a different planet. A 4-0 seems not so much a result as a foregone conclusion, which is my least favourite kind, because at least uncertainty briefly suggests that things could be otherwise.

Forest Green are walking into a war zone tonight — Bedford's forward line has the kind of menace that'll tear through that defence like a chainsaw through silence. Julian Moreno sweeping up behind a rock-solid backline means Forest Green's attack is going to get absolutely suffocated before it even breathes. This is Bedford's fortress and they're going to defend it with everything they've got.