I'll tell you what the difference was. Forest looked flashy, Mewo didn't. Forest wore their blood and custard kit with the sole intention of making Mewo look and feel shabby. It worked. Forest players fizzed around the pitch like fireworks, while Mewo flitted in and out of their shadows.

Forest were so flashy they didn't bother turning up for a while. They allowed Afobe to skip past Worrall and fire in a shot that, to be honest, Samba could have saved in his sleep. He may well have been asleep for all I know. He often has that "do not disturb" look about him, doesn't he?

Forest continued to allow Mewo to press and attack in the sure and certain knowledge that (a) Mewo weren't flashy enough to score, or (b) if the home side did somehow manage to penetrate The Wall, Forest were flashy enough to score several in reply. So, Ojo and Bradshaw and Malone and Macnamara generated one or two scruffy half chances, which Samba saved in his sleep, but succeeded only in knackering themselves, as Bradshaw and Ojo were taken off for repairs at Mewo Motors just dahn the Bolina Road. Apparently, Bolina was a nymphomaniac who, pursued by Apollo, threw herself into the sea. Something to do with the docks, I suppose.

Anyway, in the last third of the first half, Forest woke up, and Grabban cut a sublime ball back for Yates to fire into Bialkowski's Arms, which is a pub dahn the Zampa Road. Zampa was a comic opera pirate in the days when they were a thing. Something to do with the docks, I suppose. In the second half, having seen off the fret from Mewo, Forest went into full firework mode.

There was some very flashy stuff indeed from Forest in that second half. There were back- heeled shots, overhead kicks, some fine examples of Yates misdirection, and a general air of cockiness, but it looked as if the whole thing was going to end with the squeaky trump of a goalless draw, when up popped Baby Johnson tiptoeing his way into the heart of the Mewo defence and releasing Zinckernagel, who skipped in behind and delivered a delicate chip which Bialkowski could not prevent from reaching Grabban, who, having missed a good opportunity minutes before, did not miss this one. It was exhilarating to see the mighty man roar his defiance at the Mewo boo boys. It was thrilling to win the game in the last minute. It was noticeable, too, that once again the blood and custard kit didn't get dirty. It never gets dirty. Is it magic, do you think? .