Fylde's midfield, anchored by the tiresome competence of Angel Vazquez, will simply grind Worksop's defensive shape into a fine, unremarkable paste over ninety minutes that will feel considerably longer. William Peverell up front offers a quality differential that makes the whole exercise rather predictable, like watching gravity work. Worksop's solitary estimated attack is the kind of statistic that makes me want to sit very quietly in a dark room for several decades.

Fylde's midfield is going to absolutely steamroll through Worksop today — Angel Vazquez and that engine room will own the center of the pitch and dictate every single passage of play. Worksop's defensive lines look stretched and vulnerable, and nine attacks to one tells you everything about where this battle will be fought. Peter Richman in goal will have his hands full all afternoon, and I just don't see him keeping them out forever.