Kingstonian's forward line has an almost obscene advantage over York's defence tonight, and I'd normally find some flickering ember of excitement in that, but I can't. Christopher Burroughs in midfield will probably do just enough to keep things ticking over in that joyless, functional way that midfielders always do, like a washing machine that nobody asked for. York will attack twice, achieve nothing, and we'll all go home wondering why we came in the first place — which, for the record, is a question I ask myself every single day.

Kingstonian are going to absolutely suffocate York City at home tonight — the groundsman's work up front is going to make this pitch a fortress for their forwards, and York's attack is walking into a storm. York are barely going to sniff a chance going forward, I reckon they manage two raids all night and Connor Bateman deals with both without breaking a sweat. Luke McDonald gets the goal that matters and Kingstonian grind out a brutal, merciless win.