The Coaching System

89th Minute –

Bradford weren't just winning. They were making a statement. Norwich had given up chasing. Their bodies moved, but their heads were gone.

Ibáñez knew it. He could feel it.

So when he saw Rowe take a heavy touch, he pounced. A sharp step, an outstretched foot—he nicked the ball clean. Rowe barely had time to react before Ibáñez was already moving forward, eyes scanning, instincts sharp.

The ball rolled to Richter.

He had space.

One touch to control. One look up. Obi was already on the move.

Richter didn't hesitate. A perfectly weighted through ball, threading between two defenders like a needle through fabric. Obi didn't break stride.

One touch. The perfect setup.

Gunn rushed out, arms wide, but Obi was too composed. Too ruthless.

A simple, ice-cold finish. Inside of the foot. Low, precise, into the bottom corner.

Valley Parade erupted.

Obi wheeled away in celebration, sprinting toward the corner flag, arms spread like a man soaking in the moment. The fans roared his name. Richter followed, pointing at him, grinning, before the entire team swarmed them.

Vélez grabbed Obi's head, shaking it with excitement. Holloway pounded his chest. Barnes lifted both arms to the sky.

On the other side, Norwich players stood frozen. Hands on hips. Eyes empty. They had nothing left.

The final whistle came seconds later.

Bradford 3-0 Norwich.

Jake barely reacted at first. He just exhaled, nodding slowly. Job done. Then, as the noise hit him, as his players celebrated, a small smile broke through.

They weren't here to participate.

Bradford had arrived.

The Post-Match Press Conference

Jake stepped into the press room, the hum of voices lowering as cameras clicked. The win was still fresh, the adrenaline still lingering in his system. A few familiar faces sat at the front—journalists he'd seen plenty of times before—along with a few new ones. The lights were bright, the microphones lined up in front of him. He took his seat, adjusting the mic.

The first question came fast.

"Jake, a dominant win today. What was the tactical key to controlling the game?"

Jake leaned forward slightly. "We knew Norwich liked to control the midfield. Their best work comes from keeping possession, switching play, and breaking lines with their passing. So we made sure they never got comfortable. Vélez and Ibáñez pressed aggressively, forced mistakes, and kept them from settling. Our wingers stretched their backline, and when the spaces opened up, we exploited them. It was about being disciplined but also knowing when to attack."

"Chido Obi came on and scored twice. What does that say about his role in the squad?"

Jake smiled. "It says he's ready. Chido is hungry. He trains like a player who wants to make a difference, and tonight, he showed that. His movement was excellent, his finishing was sharp, and when the team needed something extra, he delivered. That's the mentality we need."

"And Costa? He got on the scoresheet as well."

A small nod. "Massive for us. We ask a lot of him—pressing, movement, link-up play—but when the chances come, he delivers. He's clinical. But it's not just about the goals. His work rate sets the tone for the whole team."

"Your first game of the season, a 3-0 win, a clean sheet. What kind of statement does this send?"

Jake exhaled, measured in his response. "It's a good start. Nothing more. We know how long the season is, how competitive this league can be. But the intent is clear—we're not here to make up the numbers. We're here to push. To compete. And if we keep this level of intensity, we'll be in a strong position."

"A quick turnaround to Rapid Wien on Tuesday. How do you manage the balance between the Championship and European competition?"

His expression didn't change. "By being prepared. European football is new for this club, but we're ready. We've built a squad that can handle the demands of multiple competitions. We'll rotate when we need to, keep the squad fresh, and make sure we approach every game with the same intensity and focus."

"You've only played one game, but do you believe this squad has the depth to compete on all fronts?"

Jake smirked slightly. "You'll see on Tuesday."

"Lastly, fans are absolutely buzzing after this win. What's your message to them?"

He glanced at the cameras, knowing exactly who was watching. "Keep believing. We're building something special here."

The press officer wrapped things up, signaling the end of the conference. Jake stood, shook a few hands, then headed out. There was no time to dwell on this win—Rapid Wien was next.

Fan Forum Reaction

The Bradford fan forums were on fire. The win hadn't just impressed—it had sent a message.

🗣 "What a statement! We didn't just win, we dominated. Vélez and Ibáñez are a joke in midfield. Absolute engines."

🗣 "Obi coming off the bench and scoring—he has to start against Rapid Wien. No debate. The guy is a killer in front of goal."

🗣 "3-0. First game. Top of the league. Never coming down. Somebody stop us!"

🗣 "Jake Ball is real. Pressing teams to death. No fear. We actually play proper football now!"

🗣 "Bardghji was cooking, Obi was clinical, Costa worked his socks off. I love this team already."

The excitement buzzed through every corner of the fanbase. Social media exploded with clips of the goals, analysis threads breaking down Jake's tactics, and GIFs of Valley Parade rocking after each goal.

But the celebrations didn't last long.

The focus had already shifted.

Rapid Wien.

Tuesday night. Bradford City's first-ever European match.

The reality set in quickly—this was a different kind of challenge. League football was one thing. European competition was another beast entirely. And the fans knew it.

🗣 "Norwich were light work, but Rapid Wien will be a different test. How we handle that will show what we're really about."

🗣 "Jake has a decision to make—stick with the same team or rotate? We can't afford to burn out this early."

🗣 "Honestly, I just want to see us compete. We've never been in Europe before. Whatever happens, it's historic."

The anticipation grew.

For years, Bradford had been clawing their way up the football pyramid. Now, they were about to step onto a European stage.