The Coaching System-Chapter 89: RANGERS VS BRADFORD PART 1
Rangers Starting XI (4-3-3 Formation):
GK: Liam Kelly
Defenders:
RB: Dujon Sterling
CB: Leon Balogun
CB: Clinton Nsiala
LB: Jefté
Midfielders:
CM: Mohamed Diomandé
CM: Connor Barron
CAM: Nedim Bajrami
Forwards:
RW: Václav Černý
ST: Hamza Igamane
LW: Óscar Cortés
Bradford's Bright Start –
From the opening whistle, Bradford took control.
The lessons from Al Nassr were clear—this time, they weren't rushing their play. They were patient, methodical.
Vélez was the key.
The Colombian dictated the tempo from midfield, his touch clean, his passing sharp. Every time he received the ball, he looked forward, scanning for movement.
Jake nodded approvingly on the touchline.
Bradford weren't just playing—they were dictating.
Early Chances –
From the opening whistle, Bradford played with intent.
The lessons from the Al Nassr match were clear in their approach—they weren't rushing forward recklessly. Instead, they were moving the ball with purpose, picking their moments carefully.
Vélez was everywhere.
Dictating play from deep, switching passes effortlessly between the wings, always scanning for an opening.
Jake stood on the touchline, arms crossed, watching his team move as a unit. They had started well.
Now they just needed a goal to show for it.
7' –
The first real chance came from Raphael Mensah.
Vélez had the ball just inside Rangers' half, calmly surveying the field. He spotted Lewis Hart making an overlapping run on the left, played it out wide, and instantly demanded the return pass.
Hart obliged, laying it back to Vélez, who shifted his weight and clipped a delicate pass forward into space for Mensah.
The Ghanaian exploded forward, leaving Sterling backpedaling.
Jake leaned forward on the touchline. This was it.
Mensah cut inside onto his right foot, curling a shot toward the far post.
It looked perfect.
For a moment, it seemed like it was bending into the net—
Until Liam Kelly reacted.
The Rangers keeper dived low, stretching fully to his right, and got just enough fingertips on the ball to tip it wide.
The Bradford bench groaned.
Mensah stood with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.
Vélez jogged over, clapped him on the back. "Next one goes in."
Jake nodded. It was a bright start.
10' –
Bradford weren't letting up.
Vélez was running the game, dictating the tempo, controlling possession with authority.
Then, he saw an opening.
Rangers were leaving gaps between their center-backs, and Vélez took full advantage.
One glance up. One perfect pass.
A slicing through ball between Balogun and Nsiala.
Jake grinned as the ball split the defense.
Costa was through.
The Brazilian took one touch, setting himself.
Then another—too much time.
The angle narrowed.
He pulled the trigger—but dragged the shot wide of the post.
Jake clenched his jaw.
That should have been 1-0.
Costa looked up at the sky, frustrated.
From the sideline, Jake shouted. "Don't dwell! Next chance, bury it!"
They were dominating, but they needed to be ruthless.
13' –
For all of Bradford's dominance, Rangers still had quality.
And Bajrami reminded them of that.
The attacking midfielder picked up the ball in a central position, looked up, and instantly turned away from Ibáñez with a clever touch.
Jake saw the danger immediately.
Bajrami threaded a pass through the lines—straight to Hamza Igamane.
Bianchi rushed to close him down, but the striker had already turned—low shot toward the near post.
For a split second, Jake thought it was in—
Until Jack Simmons reacted.
The young keeper got down well, his fingertips pushing the ball just wide.
Rangers won a corner, but it was a warning.
They were still dangerous.
And Bradford couldn't afford to waste chances.
15' –
Rangers had been playing on the edge from the start.
They were pressing aggressively, snapping into tackles, trying to disrupt Bradford's passing rhythm.
But Jake had seen this kind of approach before.
When a team can't match their opponent technically, they compensate physically.
And Rangers were getting frustrated.
Bradford were dominating possession, Vélez was controlling the midfield, and every time Rangers tried to press, they were being played around effortlessly.
The tension was building.
And then—it snapped.
Bradford were patiently working the ball through midfield, Ibáñez dropping deep to collect a pass from Barnes.
Baron rushed toward him, but the Argentine calmly turned away, rolling the ball to his other foot.
Smooth. Effortless.
And then—smash.
Before Ibáñez could even take his next touch, Connor Barron came flying in.
Two feet. Studs up. No control.
A brutal collision.
Ibáñez went down hard, rolling onto his back, clutching his ankle.
For half a second, there was silence.
Then the Bradford bench erupted.
Harper and Richards immediately sprinted toward the referee, shouting in protest.
Barnes and Bianchi rushed to check on Ibáñez, who was groaning in pain, wincing as he held his leg.
Jake?
He didn't move.
He didn't shout. He didn't protest.
He knew exactly what was coming.
The referee didn't hesitate.
He had seen enough.
As Barron got up, already knowing what was about to happen, the ref marched straight over to him.
No warning. No discussion.
Just a flash of red.
Rangers were down to 10 men.
As Barron trudged off the pitch, shaking his head, Rangers' manager threw his arms up in frustration.
The players protested, but they had no case.
Jake finally uncrossed his arms, taking a few steps forward.
He looked over at Ibáñez, who was already sitting up, shaking off the impact.
He'd be fine. Tough kid.
Jake glanced at Robertson, his assistant.
"They're rattled," he muttered.
Robertson nodded. "And we've got an extra man. Time to make it count."
Jake clapped his hands, calling his players over for a quick adjustment.
Bradford were already in control.
Now?
Now they had a chance to kill the game.
Jake's Tactical Adjustment –
Jake didn't waste time.
As Barron's red card was still being discussed among the Rangers players and their coaching staff, Jake was already making adjustments.
He called over Santiago Vélez and Andrés Ibáñez, his two central midfielders, as the rest of the team gathered around.
His voice was calm but firm. This was their moment.
"We don't force it." He let that settle in for a second before continuing.
"Keep moving the ball. They'll tire themselves out."
Rangers, now down to ten men, had two choices—drop deep and defend for their lives or gamble by keeping their pressing shape.
Jake was willing to bet they'd get desperate and try to compensate for the missing man with aggressive chasing.
That's exactly what he wanted.
No reckless pressing. No rushed attacks. Just control.
Vélez nodded, already picturing how to manipulate Rangers' midfield shape. Ibáñez cracked his knuckles, eager to dictate play.
Stretching the Field – M
Jake then turned to his full-backs, James Richards and Lewis Hart.
"Push higher. Stretch their backline."
Both nodded.
With an extra man, Bradford had no reason to sit back.
They would make the pitch as big as possible, forcing Rangers to cover more ground.
Hart and Richards would push high, becoming attacking outlets.
Mensah and Walsh would cut inside, overloading the central areas.
Vélez and Ibáñez would pull the strings, shifting the ball side to side, making Rangers chase.
Jake turned back to the whole team. "We move them side to side, we drag them out of position, and then—" he pointed toward Richter and Costa up front "—we punish them."
No forced shots. No rushed passes.
Just smart football.
They had the advantage. Now they had to use it.
27' –
Then, finally—they broke through.
And as always, Santiago Vélez was at the heart of it.
Bradford had been in total control, dominating possession, pinning Rangers back—but they hadn't been clinical.
Jake could feel the frustration creeping in.
They had wasted too many chances, and he knew what that could lead to—a sudden counterattack, one moment of defensive hesitation, and everything could change.
But then Vélez took over.
The Colombian picked up the ball just inside Rangers' half, his head already up, scanning for options.
Rangers had retreated into a deep, compact block, trying to survive with ten men.
Jake watched as Vélez glided forward, smooth and controlled.
One touch. Another. Then a sudden acceleration.
A quick body feint, shifting away from the first defender.
Then another shift, leaving Bajrami chasing shadows.
Two players beaten—space opening up.
And that's when Richter made his move.
Richter had been waiting for the moment, hovering on the last defender's shoulder.
When Vélez looked up, the German sprinted into the gap between Balogun and Nsiala.
Vélez didn't hesitate.
One touch. One perfectly weighted pass.
The ball slid between the Rangers center-backs, taking them completely out of the play.
Richter read the pass perfectly, controlling the ball in full stride.
Nsiala tried to recover, but he was already beaten.
Kelly rushed off his line—closing the angle fast.
But Richter was composed.
One look. One decision.
A low, precise shot, sliding past the keeper and into the bottom corner.
The net rippled.
Bradford 1-0 up.
The Bradford bench erupted, substitutes jumping to their feet.
Richter pumped his fist, roaring in celebration, before being swarmed by his teammates.
Vélez?
He just jogged over, patted him on the back, and whispered something to him.
Jake?
He let out a slow breath.
About time.
One goal down.
Now, they needed to finish the job.
Bradford had their goal.
Now the question was: Would they push for more or settle?
Jake already knew the answer.
His players did too.
They didn't sit back after Richter's strike. Instead, they smelled blood.
Rangers were wounded—down a man, low on confidence, sitting deep in their own half.
Bradford had a chance to kill the game before halftime.
And they went for it.
32' –
The next warning sign for Rangers came from Andrés Ibáñez.
The Argentine had been quietly pulling the strings in midfield, keeping possession ticking, shifting the ball from side to side.
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But now, he saw an opening.
A loose clearance from Balogun fell to his feet 25 yards from goal.
Jake barely had time to react before Ibáñez stepped into the shot.
One touch. Pure strike.
The ball soared through the air, dipping late—
And skimming just over the crossbar.
The Bradford fans groaned, thinking it was in.
Ibáñez let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head.
Jake gave him a quick nod from the sideline.
Right idea. Next time, hit the target.
38' –
Rangers had barely threatened since the red card.
They were outnumbered in midfield, struggling to create anything.
But football is cruel. One moment is all it takes.
And in the 38th minute, they nearly had it.
Óscar Cortés, their quickest attacker, had been waiting for a counter.
When Nsiala cleared a Bradford cross out of the box, Cortés reacted first.
One touch. Sprint. Space ahead of him.
Barnes saw the danger immediately. He turned and chased.
Cortés had a head start—but Barnes had experience.
Jake stood still, watching intently. This was a test.
Cortés entered the box. Barnes closed the gap.
Cortés took the shot—but Barnes' presence forced him off balance.
Weak effort. Easy save for Simmons.
Jake exhaled.
It was a reminder—they were in control, but the game wasn't over yet.
Halftime Whistle –
The referee blew for halftime.
Bradford walked off, heads high, dominant, but not finished.
Jake followed behind, his mind already on the second half adjustments.
The scoreline wasn't enough.
They were winning.
But they could be better.
And he was going to make sure they knew it.
