The Coaching System

Date: Saturday, 25 October 2025

Venue: Valley Parade

Formation: 4–2–3–1

Pre-Match Build-Up: Return to Routine

Friday Morning — Training Ground

The sun sat low over the misted edge of the pitch, throwing long shadows across cones and bibs. A quiet rhythm to everything. No music. No banter. Just feet tapping against grass and clipped calls from the coaching staff.

Jake stood with arms folded near the centre circle, eyes following each sequence with that detached precision of someone measuring not performance—but readiness.

No drills beyond 70%. No late tackles.

The players knew what this was.

Not recovery.

Recalibration.

The trip to Greece hadn't left anyone drained. If anything, it had sharpened them.

Jake's only words that morning came just before they broke the final rondo drill.

"This isn't after the high. This is the high. League points mean promotion. No drifting."

No smile. But the players nodded.

Even Silva, who usually moved like mischief wrapped in muscle, walked off the pitch with still shoulders. Roney untied his boots in silence. Ibáñez and Vélez stayed back, walking through corner sequences alone.

Saturday Morning — Matchday Routine

The stadium crew opened Valley Parade by 7AM. Wind cold, but clear skies above. A perfect football day.

Inside, shirts were hung, warm-ups laid out, the tunnel still empty—but charged. Like it always was before a big one. Not because of the opponent. But because nothing could be wasted now. Not at the top of the table.

Broadcast – Sky Sports Coverage Begins

Cut to panoramic overheads of Valley Parade—sharp turf, crisp outlines, stands filling slow but steady.

Seb Hutchinson (Lead Commentary):

"Bradford City—top of the Championship, storming through Europe, and now back on home soil. Jake Wilson's side hit new heights midweek, but Stoke? They're not here for the ceremony. They're here to remind you—there's no coasting in this league."

Curtis Davies (Co-Comms):

"And Jake knows that. Look at the XI. Strong spine. Emeka in goal. Ibáñez and Vélez again in the engine room. Silva. Roney. Richter. He's not softening anything just because Thursday went well. No rotation for sentiment. Every player here is here on trust."

Seb:

"You've played against Stoke in sides chasing promotion, Curtis. What do they bring that's dangerous?"

Curtis:

"Physical presence, always. But more than that—they don't blink. You give them 10 bad minutes and they'll bury you in five. So this... this needs to be disciplined."

Team Sheet Announced:

Bradford City Starting XI (4–3–3)

GK: Emeka Okafor

RB: Reece Holloway

CB: Nathan Barnes

CB: Kang Min-jae

LB: Aiden Taylor

CM: Andrés Ibáñez

CDM: Santiago Vélez

CM: Daniel Lowe

RW: Roney Bardghji

LW: Guilherme Silva

ST: Tobias Richter

Bench: Cox, Richards, Bianchi, Chapman, Soro, Obi, Walsh, Rasmussen, Fletcher

No anthem. No flares.

Just players filing into the tunnel, breathing in the weight of a domestic season now marching toward November.

Stoke waited in the other half of the tunnel—silent, arms tucked, staring forward.

Jake leaned over to Paul, handed him the tablet.

Didn't say anything.

Just looked once toward the pitch and stepped into the light.

First Half –

12' Minute –

It was the first time Bradford's shape broke.

A long diagonal from Stoke's right-back caught Holloway half a yard too high. The ball skipped through the channel, and Emre Tezgel latched onto it—sharp first touch, dragging inside onto his left.

He didn't hesitate.

Low shot. Fast.

Kang Min-jae slid across—not desperate, just certain. His left leg extended just enough to take the sting out of the strike.

Emeka had already gone down—but Kang's touch redirected it into his gloves, mid-dive.

Seb Hutchinson (commentary):

"Good feet from Tezgel, but even better positioning from Kang. That's what he does—he makes the pitch feel small."

Curtis Davies:

"You're not passing through this Bradford back line without exactness. That's the standard now."

18' Minute –

Bradford built slow. Intentional. Fourteen passes, reset twice through Ibáñez.

Then Vélez saw Chapman ghosting between Stoke's two midfield lines.

One clipped ball found him, back to goal. He turned on the half-volley—caught the bounce just right.

The strike dipped early. Keeper frozen.

It kissed the underside of the crossbar, rattled down... and spun out.

Silva charged in for the rebound—but it was hacked clear by Stoke's fullback before he could plant.

Chapman turned away, hands on his head—but no frustration. Just disbelief.

Curtis Davies:

"That's a millimetre from a worldie."

Seb Hutchinson:

"Chapman's timing—immaculate. One more rotation of the ball, and we'd be calling that a goal of the month contender."

27' Minute –

It didn't come from a burst.

It came from structure.

Ibáñez intercepted a loose second ball after a Stoke clearance. One touch to Vélez, who immediately clipped it into the left channel.

Silva had already pulled his marker wide—his first touch stopped it dead, second took him around the back.

But he didn't cross.

He paused—then backheeled into space.

Roney had timed the run to perfection. He stepped into the space between the fullback and centre-half, met it first-time, and sent a low pass across the box.

Richter—arriving late—met it on the move.

One touch. Right foot. Side netting.

No celebration. He turned straight back toward the centre circle, eyes hard.

Seb Hutchinson:

"Gorgeous interplay—every pass with intention. And it's Tobias Richter again, ghosting in like he does."

Curtis Davies:

"That's what this system is. Unselfish, unpredictable. You don't know where the dagger's coming from—but it always comes."

Bradford City 1 – 0 Stoke City

27 minutes played. Fluid. Calculated. Deserved.

38' Minute –

It was Stoke's first real moment of clarity.

A foul drawn on the left wing—halfway between danger and distance. Their No. 10 shaped up for delivery, and Bradford set their line just inside the six-yard box. Roney marked short. Kang and Barnes took the near zone.

But the delivery wasn't floated. It was driven—fast, waist-height, with intent.

A runner broke loose at the penalty spot.

Header—clean, downward. Perfect contact.

And it should've been the equaliser.

But Emeka reacted late—not out of hesitation, but out of reading. One step, full stretch low to his left.

Palm. Deflected wide.

The crowd roared louder than the save deserved. Not because of the drama. But because Emeka made it look inevitable.

Seb Hutchinson (commentary):

"One of those saves that only becomes a highlight when someone reminds you it could've been 1–1."

Curtis Davies:

"He doesn't dive until he has to. That's the mark of a keeper who trusts his angles. Pure trust."

45+1' Minute –

Bradford weren't content to see the half out.

Vélez took a foul just inside Stoke's half. Ibáñez played it quick—diagonal to Chapman, who had dropped deep to receive.

But he didn't pass it back.

One touch to open his hips, then a disguised vertical—a wedge of a pass, fast and flat, that split Stoke's midfield in two.

Silva peeled off the shoulder of his man, took the ball in stride inside the box.

It opened for him. Left foot. Bottom far corner.

He struck it.

But the defender—Stoke's right-back—had never switched off. A sliding challenge. Clean. Brave. Timed to the inch.

Ball ricocheted out for a corner.

Silva sat for a second. Just stared at the grass.

Curtis Davies:

"You give Silva a second like that, and 9 times out of 10, he tucks it. That was the tenth."

Seb Hutchinson:

"Chapman's pass deserved the finish. But that's the edge of the Championship. You blink, you miss it."