There are matches, and then there are games with such a weirdly electric energy that you can feel the tension in the air hours before kickoff—like Marty McFly waiting for that lightning bolt to hit the clocktower, you can just sense that something unpredictable is about to go down at Mill Farm. We’re staring down a National League North fixture that’s practically custom-built for narrative junkies: AFC Fylde, third place, looking every bit the club with Premier League aspirations stuck in a Conference-sized room, against Worksop Town, the new kids on the block who’ve finally clawed their way out of the NPL basement and now look around, shirt collars stretched, hoping nobody’s figured out they snuck into the party.
Let’s not sugarcoat it—on paper, this is like Apollo Creed lining up Rocky for an “easy” tune-up in the first flick, and we all know how that worked out. AFC Fylde are the offensive juggernauts everyone else in the league secretly hates for being so annoyingly proficient. They’ve scored 24 league goals in just ten matches, unbeaten at home, and average two goals a game like it’s their morning coffee. Ever seen one of those NBA teams that just has too many shooters? That’s Fylde right now, with Ryan Colclough and Danny Mayor pulling the strings up front and making defenders question their life choices. Colclough moves so smoothly in the final third you’d think he was doing the cha-cha, and Mayor—whose highlights are more entertaining than most streaming series—has rediscovered the kind of form that makes supporters buy shirts with his name on the back just to feel closer to the action.
Craig Mahon has these guys playing a high-tempo brand that makes you think of Klopp’s Liverpool on a sugar rush: aggressive pressing, relentless movement, a front line that punishes anything less than perfection. They’re not just winning at home; they’re embarrassing people, scoring at least two in seven of ten home games. That’s not a stat, that’s a warning label.
But you can’t script football like it’s a Marvel movie and expect Worksop Town to play the villain who gets tossed off-screen in the first act. They’re 16th, yeah—nobody’s denying the table. But these Tigers have claws, and there’s something about promoted teams with a chip on their shoulder that always makes me nervous. Sure, their recent form reads like a series of horror sequels nobody asked for—four losses on the bounce and barely a goal a game over their last ten. They haven’t exactly set the world alight, and their away record is a mess: four losses in five, multiple goals conceded each time. You almost expect them to show up in hockey masks, haunted by the ghosts of away games past.
And yet—hear me out, because sport lives for these twists—every underdog story starts with someone looking at the odds and saying, “No way.” Think of Worksop as the Sandlot Kids lining up against the rich Little League team: outgunned, outclassed, but just self-deluded enough to make something weird happen if Fylde even blinks. They’ve got grit, and if manager Craig Parry can get them organized for ninety minutes, you just never know. This is where leaders are born—this is where you find out if there’s a Roy Kent lurking in a Worksop shirt, refusing to let his team go quietly.
Tactically, this one’s a chessboard with Fylde’s pieces practically glowing with power-ups. They’ll want to play quick, stretch the Tigers, and create overloads wide with Colclough and Mayor swapping flanks and pulling defenders out of position. Worksop? They have to park the bus, the tram, hell, the entire Stagecoach fleet. Expect a 5-4-1 and an afternoon of hearts-in-mouths defending, hoping for a break where someone like Liam Hughes (if he starts up top) can turn a hoofed clearance into a miracle moment. Their best bet is to frustrate, capitalize on set pieces, and pray Fylde starts thinking about promotion a few months too early. If they try to play open football, Fylde will eat them alive.
The stakes are crystal clear and couldn’t be higher if this was the last match on FIFA 25 before your controller ran out of batteries. Fylde are chasing the leaders, needing three points to keep the pressure on South Shields and Scarborough, and every slip-up now could be the difference between a championship parade and another year of “what could have been”. Worksop are fighting for their lives—points aren’t just nice, they’re oxygen. A result here would change their season, announce “We belong,” and maybe give the rest of the relegation boys something to fear.
Prediction? Gut says Fylde win, maybe big—like a 3-1, Colclough and Mayor giving everyone a lesson in finishing school. But football gods love drama, and don’t count out that rogue set-piece goal or mad deflection that sends a Worksop away end into delirium. After all, if sports were predictable, Ted Lasso would have been fired after season one and the Sandlot Kids would have stuck to their day jobs.
Bottom line: Mill Farm’s about to host a classic, and if you love your football with a side of storylines and a chance for the little guy to swing back, don’t you dare miss this one.