The Coaching System-Chapter 92: BRADFORD VS STOKE CITY

July 26th, 2024 – Preseason Match 4

King Saud University Stadium, Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

Bradford's final test before heading back to England.

The loss to Lens had been a harsh lesson, but this was the moment to respond.

They weren't just playing to win.

They were playing to make a statement.

Pre-Match –

The air inside the dressing room was tense but focused. The players sat on the benches, some lacing up their boots, others stretching, all waiting for Jake Wilson to speak.

He stood at the front, hands in his pockets, scanning the room. This wasn't about motivation.

They already knew what was at stake.

They had dominated Lens but walked away with nothing. That wasn't happening again.

Jake let the silence settle before speaking.

"We learned. We move on. Now we show what we're made of."

His tone was calm, controlled, but with an edge of expectation.

"No excuses today. We finish this preseason strong."

The players nodded. They were locked in.

The Opposition –

This was not going to be another defensive battle.

Unlike Lens, Stoke City would attack.

They wouldn't sit back in a low block. They wouldn't time-waste.

They would press, push forward, and test Bradford's defense from the first minute.

And that was exactly what Jake wanted.

"This is a Championship-level team," he said, pacing slowly. "They will come at us. They will press. They will challenge us physically. That's good. That's what we need."

This was the perfect challenge before returning to England.

Tactical Adjustments –

Jake turned to the tactical board.

"We control this game. We dictate the pace. But we don't sit back and play safe. We go after them."

High Pressing – Force Mistakes from Stoke's Defense

Stoke liked to play out from the back, but their center-backs struggled under pressure.

Bradford would press aggressively, winning the ball high up the pitch.

Fast Transitions – Attack with Speed

Stoke's backline was physical but slow.

Novak's movement and Mensah's pace would exploit that weakness.

"When we win the ball, we don't hesitate. We go."

Aggressive Mentality – No Fear, No Hesitation

"We do not sit back. We do not play scared. We attack from the first whistle."

Full-backs pushing high, wingers cutting inside, midfielders driving forward.

Jake looked around the room.

"We dominate this game. We take our chances. We make a statement."

The players were ready. Focused. Determined.

Tonight, they were not leaving anything behind.

First Half – A Ruthless Start

Bradford came out like a team with something to prove.

The moment the referee blew the whistle, they pushed high, pressed aggressively, and suffocated Stoke's build-up.

Jake had told them to attack from the first second, and they did exactly that.

Stoke, a Championship side, expected to dictate the tempo. Instead, they found themselves pinned back, struggling to string two passes together.

Bradford's intensity rattled them.

Every time a Stoke player tried to play out from the back, a Bradford shirt was already closing him down.

And then, the pressure paid off.

9' –

The mistake came in midfield.

Stoke had possession, looking to reset after surviving the first few minutes of pressure.

Their midfielder received a pass, took a touch—too heavy.

Silva pounced.

Jake saw it unfolding before anyone else. He leaned forward, eyes locked on the play.

Silva stretched out a leg, poked the ball away, and suddenly—Bradford were on the attack.

The Brazilian didn't hesitate. One touch forward. A quick look up.

Novak was already on the move.

Silva didn't even think. He threaded the perfect pass between the center-backs.

Novak timed his run to perfection, breaking free, one-on-one with the keeper.

Jake barely blinked.

He knew what was coming.

Novak took a touch, opened his body—then slotted it low into the bottom corner.

Clinical. Ruthless.

The net rippled.

Bradford 1-0 up.

The Stoke defenders looked at each other, confused, frustrated.

They weren't expecting this.

They weren't expecting a League One side to dominate them from the start.

On the touchline, Jake kept his reaction calm.

But inside?

This was exactly what he wanted.

Aggressive. Sharp. Relentless.

They had started ruthlessly.

Now?

They had to keep going.

15' –

Bradford weren't slowing down.

They had stunned Stoke with their aggressive start, and now they could feel the momentum shifting entirely in their favor.

Jake had told them before the match: "Attack them. Don't stop."

And that's exactly what they were doing.

This time, the danger came from the left.

Raphael Mensah had been lively from the start, stretching the Stoke defense, cutting inside whenever he had space.

This time, he picked up the ball just past midfield, running straight at his full-back.

Stoke's right-back was already backpedaling, unsure whether to step up or hold his ground.

Jake saw it before it even happened. "Take him on!" he barked from the sideline.

Mensah didn't need the instruction.

He feinted left, then pushed the ball right, cutting inside onto his stronger foot.

Now, he had space.

And in the box?

Costa was waiting.

Mensah glanced up for just a second, then curled in a perfect cross.

It wasn't a looping, hopeful ball.

It was driven—fast, low, dangerous.

A cross meant for one thing—a goal.

Costa saw it coming. He sprinted to the near post, beating his marker by half a step.

One flick. Just enough contact.

The ball redirected past the keeper, sneaking in at the near post.

2-0.

Bradford Were Flying

The net rippled.

Costa turned away in celebration, arms outstretched.

Mensah ran over, grinning, knowing exactly what he had just created.

On the bench, Jake allowed himself a small smirk.

This was exactly the response he wanted after the Lens match.

They were hungry, aggressive, fearless.

But the game was far from over.

The goal shook Stoke.

They had started the match slowly, sluggishly, but now?

They finally realized they were in a real fight.

Jake could see it immediately—their midfielders started demanding the ball, passing quicker, pushing up.

For the first time in the game, Bradford were forced to drop deeper.

Jake shouted from the sideline: "Stay compact! No gaps between the lines!"

But Stoke were starting to find space.

They weren't panicking.

They were a Championship-level side, after all.

And now, they were playing like one.

Bradford had to be ready.

28' –

It was too easy.

Bradford had been in complete control, but football had a way of punishing teams who relaxed—even for a second.

And that's exactly what happened.

Stoke won a corner on the right, their first real chance to get numbers into the box.

Jake watched as his team set up to defend.

Nathan Barnes, Bradford's defensive leader, took his position, marking Stoke's main striker.

The delivery came in—a fast, inswinging ball.

Barnes was caught flat-footed.

For a brief moment, he lost his man.

That was all it took.

The Stoke forward leapt highest, towering over everyone.

Powerful header.

The ball flew past Okafor and into the net.

2-1.

Jake clenched his jaw.

A cheap goal to concede. A lapse in concentration.

He could already see Barnes shaking his head, angry with himself.

"Forget it," Jake called out. "We go again."

And Bradford didn't waste time dwelling on the mistake.

32' –

The best teams don't panic after conceding.

They hit back. Immediately.

And that's exactly what Bradford did.

It started with Santiago Vélez.

The Colombian midfielder had been outstanding all preseason, and he stepped up again.

Stoke were trying to build from the back, passing between their center-backs.

Vélez saw the chance.

He sprinted forward, pressed aggressively, and stole the ball right off Stoke's midfielder.

One touch—Ibáñez was already moving.

A quick one-two between the midfielders, pulling Stoke's defense out of shape.

Then—the pass.

Vélez lifted a perfect, lofted ball over the top, splitting the defense in half.

Novak was gone.

He watched the ball drop out of the sky, timing his movement flawlessly.

One touch to bring it down.

One glance up.

One swing of his right foot—

Bang.

A thunderous strike past the keeper.

3-1.

The net bulged.

The bench erupted.

And on the touchline, Jake clapped once.

This was what he wanted.

Mistakes were inevitable. How you responded to them mattered more.

Bradford had answered in four minutes.

They were not letting Stoke back into this game.

Halftime Score: Bradford 3-1 Stoke City

As the referee blew for halftime, Jake walked toward the tunnel without saying a word.

His team had been dominant.

But he knew this game wasn't over yet.

One more goal, and they could kill it completely.

And that's exactly what he planned to tell them.

Second Half –

The players sat in the dressing room, catching their breath, wiping sweat off their faces.

They were winning. Comfortably.

But Jake Wilson wasn't satisfied.

He stood in front of them, hands on his hips, his gaze sharp.

This wasn't the time for praise.

Because praise led to complacency.

And complacency cost teams games.

He let the silence linger for a moment before speaking.

Jake's Halftime Talk –

"We don't slow down. We kill the game."

His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.

"They will come out flying in the second half. They have nothing to lose. If we switch off, if we think this game is over, we let them back in. And I won't accept that."

His eyes moved across the room, locking onto each player.

"We've controlled them. We've dominated them. But domination means nothing if we don't finish the job."

A few nods. Novak wiped his face with a towel, his expression locked in.

"Keep pressing. Keep attacking. Make them uncomfortable."

To the midfielders:

"No lazy passes. No careless giveaways. Vélez, Ibáñez—keep dictating the tempo."

To the wingers:

"Silva, Mensah—stretch them. Their full-backs are tired. You beat them once, you beat them again."

To the backline:

"Stay locked in. No sloppy mistakes. No free goals. They don't get back into this game."

He took a step back, scanning their faces.

"We don't stop at three goals."

"We don't sit back and defend."

"We go out there, and we finish this properly."

There was no need for more words.

They knew what he wanted.

They knew what they had to do.

Jake turned toward the door.

"Let's end this."

50' –

Bradford came out of halftime exactly as Jake demanded—aggressive, relentless, hunting for more goals.

They weren't protecting a lead.

They were burying Stoke.

And it took just five minutes to do it.

Silva Creates – Novak Finishes

It started on the right flank.

Renan Silva picked up the ball near the halfway line, facing a one-on-one with Stoke's left-back.

But Silva wasn't interested in slowing things down.

He dropped his shoulder and exploded past his man, driving into space with raw pace.

Stoke's defenders rushed toward him, desperate to close him down.

And that's when Silva made his move.

Instead of cutting inside for a shot, he looked up and spotted Novak drifting free inside the box.

A quick cutback—fast, low, curling into the danger zone.

And there was Novak.

Perfectly positioned.

Ready.

He stepped into the ball and struck it first-time.

No hesitation.

No wasted movement.

Just pure, clinical finishing.

The ball ripped into the back of the net.

Hat-trick. Game over.

Novak roared in celebration, arms outstretched. His teammates swarmed him.

On the touchline, Jake gave a single, sharp nod.

This was exactly how they needed to play.

Ruthless. Efficient. Unstoppable.

But the game wasn't over yet.

Stoke Tries to Fight Back Again

At 4-1 down, Stoke had no choice.

They started throwing more bodies forward, trying to salvage something.

For the first time all game, Okafor was truly tested.

53' –

A slick passing sequence cut through Bradford's midfield.

The shot from the edge of the box was hard and low—but Okafor reacted quickly, pushing it wide.

58' –

A dangerous cross forced Barnes to clear awkwardly.

The rebound fell to a Stoke player, who fired—Okafor saved again.

Bradford held firm.

But then, a moment of complacency.

61' –

The ball came out of nowhere.

Stoke had been pushing forward but weren't creating clear chances.

Then—one long-range strike.

Their midfielder picked up the ball 35 yards from goal.

Nobody closed him down fast enough.

He took a touch, looked up, and unleashed a rocket.

Okafor was caught slightly off his line.

He scrambled, stretched—but couldn't reach it.

Goal.

4-2.

Jake shook his head.

That shouldn't have happened.

"Stay sharp!" he barked from the sideline. "No more gifts!"

Bradford were still in control.

But they had to finish strong.

75' –

Stoke's small spark of hope?

Extinguished.

And it started with Guilherme Costa.

Costa had been everywhere in attack—scoring, pressing, setting up chances.

Now, he turned provider.

He picked up the ball at the edge of the box, holding off his marker, waiting for support.

And then, he saw Mensah making a late run into space.

A perfectly weighted pass—into his path.

Mensah didn't hesitate.

One touch. A rocket into the top corner.

The keeper didn't move.

The ball crashed into the net.

5-2.

Stoke's defense collapsed.

Their heads dropped.

And Bradford?

They knew they had won.

Jake turned to the bench. "That's how you finish a game."

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Bradford had made their statement.

Now, it was time to go home.

Final Whistle –

The referee blew the whistle. Game over.

Bradford hadn't just won.

They had dominated a Championship-level team.

This wasn't a scrappy underdog victory.

This was a team that played with confidence, precision, and ruthlessness.

From the first whistle, they had controlled the tempo, dictated play, and punished every weakness Stoke showed.

Novak's hat-trick. A striker in top form, sharp, clinical, and full of confidence.

Costa and Mensah shining. The attacking movement was fluid, dynamic, dangerous.

Bradford looked ready for the season ahead.

As the players walked off the pitch, there was no exhaustion—only energy.

They knew what they had just done.

They had sent a message.

Post-Match Reactions –

Jake Wilson walked toward the tunnel, calm as ever.

He wasn't celebrating.

Not because he wasn't pleased—he was.

But because this was the standard.

This was how Bradford should be playing every single week.

And they weren't even at their best yet.

Media Question: "Jake, was this the perfect response to Lens?"

Jake stopped, turned to face the reporters.

He didn't even think before answering.

"It wasn't about a response. It was about proving who we are."

No over-explaining. No dragging it out.

Just a simple, confident truth.

This wasn't about making up for a frustrating loss.

It was about showing that Bradford City were not a small club anymore.

They weren't just some lower-league team trying to survive.

They were coming back to England as contenders.

And when the season started?

They weren't just going to compete.

They were going to dominate.