We’d been outside this morning on litter-picking duty, arranged by our local Parish Council. Getting the kids away from the TV was difficult; exercising one’s social responsibility and protecting our local environment concepts they were not quick to warm to, pitched as they were against Teen Titans Go on a Saturday morning. However, once they had litter-pickers in their hands, and a brown bag full of sweets courtesy of the organisers, they were on board. We proceeded, socially distanced of course, to fill three bags full of rubbish.

It would be harsh to compare our performance today with this collection of waste material, carelessly thrown from car windows, but then again, there was a whiff of garbage in the final reckoning. We didn’t stink, for sure, but we were far from smelling like roses by the final whistle.

Whilst plucking crisp packets and beer cans from the hedgerows, my mind was partly focused on today’s prospective team sheet. With Cleverley injured, and Chalobah still suspended, who would now populate our midfield three? A change in formation was not conceivable, given that this system has been credited, along with Hughes in the centre, with giving us back our identity.

By the time the refuse bags were being tied-up for collection, I had decided the returning Pedro should replace Sema on the left wing, with the Swede dropping into a midfield role behind him, providing the link with Masina. Without three first-choice midfielders, this was preferable to risking Carlos Sanchez, the 35 year-old Colombian International journeyman, who we had signed on a free transfer during midweek.

As it transpired, Xisco did indeed introduce Pedro for Cleverley, but instead of deploying him in the forward three, the 19 year-old was to fill one of the vacant midfield berths himself. I was willing to accept that compromise, as it allowed 10 other players to remain in position. Just as well really, because strangely enough, Xisco didn’t ask for my opinion on the matter.

Forest are a giant of a club, but they haven’t done well at our place in the last decade, and they were to slumber here. The match at the City Ground in December had been goalless, and with Chris Hughton’s remit clearly defensive stability, another bore draw felt likely. Running out in red this lunchtime were James Garner and Glenn Murray, both of whom had been Watford players earlier in the campaign – both then, with something to prove.

Also, Anthony Knockaert, always capable of being a thorn in the side, and someone who’d just love to plaster over the torrid memories of that penalty miss in Leicester colours from 2013, in a play-off semi-final now etched in Watford folklore. Almunia’s double save from Knockaert set up the best 30 seconds of football I have ever witnessed from the stands. As Deeney blasted Hogg’s headed knockdown from Forestieri’s cross past a desperate Schmeichel, Knockaert remained stunned from his double miss, hands on knees, unable to process this moment of personal and sporting despair. It’s no wonder he looked up for it in the early exchanges today. But those emotions got the better of him as he received an early yellow card, and comprehensively lost his personal battle with Masina all game long.

We started quickly, Forest offering nothing. A corner in the first minute, a header from Gray straight at Samba in the fifth. Knockaert jinxed in and shot from distance, but then hauled down Ismaila Sarr as he strode out and received a caution. The semi-dangerous looking Krovinovic put a cross into our box, but it was easily cleared.

We begin to crank it up – we are being invited to – and Sarr is the catalyst. He robs a ball in midfield and finds Gray, but he can’t return the pass. Kiko passes for Sarr to head goalward, Ken Sema forces a corner. Hughes floats a ball to Masina on the wing who fires one inside for Pedro, too hard, and it bounces to the keeper.

Then our goal in the 17th minute, originating from Sarr pouncing on Bong, charging to the by-line and firing across goal. Both Gray and Sema rush the six-yard area, but a brave Brice Samba dives low to divert the ball away. It falls to Adam Masina, who is unmarked with an open goal gaping from 12 yards out. Hit it first time we all think. But instead, Adam puts his left foot on top of the ball and rolls it forward two feet, then hits his laces through it back into traffic at the far post. The ball evades the covering defenders, and with a bit of a dip, squeezes between the goalie’s legs into the back of the net. His celebration is Ronaldo-esque, crunching his abs in a heroic stance. The boy, like the nutmeg, was a bit on the lucky side.

The rest of the half is slow and predictable, with only Sarr flashing his wares sporadically. He nips past Bong who impedes his path and somehow escapes a yellow. He wins a corner from which Zinckernagel feeds Pedro as he runs forward from the back post, only to sky the chance. Sarr’s cross on 39 minutes is cut out by Worrell’s arm, leading to a poor delivery (don’t get me started) from the resultant corner from Sema. Sarr is an inch away from being fed through by Zinckernagel, only a last-ditch Yates tackle prevents a certain goal-scoring opportunity. Forest continue to offer very little – a long throw, a Krovinovic shot from distance – perhaps the most encouraging thing a yellow card for Pedro who looks unlikely to stop nibbling away at the Forest midfield, and is lucky not to pick up a second yellow later on.

The second half is vacuous. Tepid. Flabby. We lose our way with a million passes across our own 18-yard box which seem to hypnotise the rest of the team. Forest slowly come to life as we dither. A grimace settles on my face for the whole half. It’s like being in the stocks, just waiting to get hit by some rotten tomato. We can only be thankful our would-be tormentors are such a poor throw.

Masina finds space on 50 minutes, plays Zinckernagel in who sets up Pedro for a left-footed effort. It’s on target, but never likely to trouble Samba. Krovinovic has a blocked effort, Bong tees the rebound into Bachmann’s hands. Forest keep giving the ball back to us, but we don’t know what to do with it. A 52nd minute corner doesn’t beat the first man; Sarr’s cross two minutes later drifts apologetically out.

The defining moment for Gray in this, his second start as our main attacker, will be a glaring miss on 55 minutes from a deliciously whipped trademark Kiko cross. He only needed to make contact with his left foot but somehow missed altogether. Some misses are painful, and for a host of reasons, this one would have really hurt Gray. Scoring in consecutive matches would have smacked of that elusive consistency all strikers feed on, and put this game well past Forest. Instead, Forest made some attacking substitutions – bringing on Cafu and Lolley – having survived by the skin of Andre’s left shin. Perhaps they would make us rue that miss…

With half an hour to play, Sky voice what everyone watching can see; “Watford’s chief worry could be themselves”. Where have the tempo and conviction in recent outings gone? Perhaps residing with Watford’s number 8 in his facemask watching from the stands. Thank goodness Cleverley should be back for the final run-in, midweek scans having revealed his ligament tear not too severe.

Now Forest become assertive, without ever really threatening, and we suddenly look full of mistakes. Troost-Ekong plays the ball out shortly before Kiko concedes a corner, from which Garner misses Krovinovic’s delivery by inches. Knockaert fires across a full-length Bachmann dive, wide but confidently so. Gray is removed for Sanchez, not being allowed time to make up for his miss, with Pedro replacing him up top.

It is now a horrible watch. Bong heads weakly to Bachmann off a Knockaert cross. But what if that had been Toney? A Garner effort deflects wide, followed by a Cafu thump which deflects and loops agonisingly past the corner of post and bar. That, again, was lucky. We concede another corner, which Pedro, good lad, clears at the near post.

We carry no real threat during this period of the game but in the 77^th minute, Sema hustles through and feeds Pedro who shoots. The ball comes to Sarr, who plays it back to Zinckernagel. His strike sails over. But we snap out of our reverie, and with the introduction of Joseph Hungbo on 80 minutes, we suddenly have a cutting edge again. With five to play, Hungbo spears a pass into the corridor of uncertainty, Sarr just a fraction away at the back post. He makes several more runs down the left flank and my grimace loosens a little. This home-grown talent looks like one to nurture.

We are readying Isaac Success off the bench in the 86^th minute, my mind in paroxysms of all the potential ironic headlines if his introduction delivers failure to see this out, but before he comes on, Sierralta concedes a corner, forced backwards by another of Forest’s attacking subs, Lyle Taylor. Both fellow late-sub Blackett and Garner can’t take advantage of chances presented. Success replaces Pedro on 87 minutes, and within moments, Taylor is through and planting his shot into the bottom left corner of our net. Oi, you headline writers, wait – THE FLAG IS UP – as Harry Enfield might have put it. I breathe again, straightening out the lucky shirt.

This was not an enjoyable game to watch as a Watford fan. Although nothing ended up going wrong, not a lot went right for most of the ninety minutes. It was a must-win game, and we won it, but there was no shred of mastery here. Our first half performance was just good enough, and we got our noses in front fairly fortuitously. Our second half effort was poor, and only the weakness of the opposition prevented us from dropping the proverbial baby.

So, it was a rubbish watch. Some folks don’t mind winning this way, but I do. We played a poor team, got lucky with a goal, and then sat back, hoping for a second on the counter. Against most of the teams in this league, we would have drawn or lost the game.

The victory lifts us up to a clear second place, thanks to Brentford’s game with Rotherham being postponed due to a coronavirus outbreak in the Millers’ camp. It feels significant, finally overhauling Swansea and Brentford, even if they have games in hand. Norwich win again, emphatically, still ten points clear. With a win in the bag, and no Brentford game, attention turns to Swansea, at home to Middlesbrough. Having won in their last outing against Sheffield Wednesday with a 96^th minute Ayew penalty, today they went one better, winning with a 97^th minute one. But we can only affect our own results.

The week ahead is a big one. By the time we face a fired-up unbeaten Cardiff side at their place next Saturday, both Swansea and Brentford will have played their games in hand. In all likelihood we’ll be kicking off against the Bluebirds in fourth spot, needing one of our strongest performances of the season to come away with anything. Let’s hope we turn up and leave the Cardiff City Stadium with the scent of victory in our nostrils.

Watch the highlights here.