The Coaching System-Chapter 150: BRADFORD VS SANTOS 2

Second Half –

Jake stood at the edge of the technical area, arms folded, watching as his team jogged back onto the pitch.

The first half had been a battle, but now, it was time to take control.

Bradford had held their own against Neymar's Santos. Now, they needed to push for more.

50' –

Jake's halftime talk had sunk in. Bradford came out sharper, pressing higher, suffocating Santos' midfield.

Ibáñez and Vélez were relentless in the center, harassing Felipe Jonatan and Dodi, forcing misplaced passes.

Silva tracked back, helping Richards double-team Neymar whenever he drifted inside.

Barnes barked instructions at the back, keeping the defensive line tight.

Santos started to look unsettled.

Bradford were in control now.

54' –

The crowd buzzed with anticipation every time Bardghji touched the ball.

And this time, he wasn't looking to pass.

The Swedish wonderkid received the ball wide on the right, immediately squaring up his defender.

A quick hesitation. A step over. Then—an explosion of pace.

The Santos full-back lunged—too late.

Bardghji was already past him, driving toward the box.

A second defender stepped up. Bardghji cut inside sharply onto his left foot, the ball glued to his feet.

Jake could see it happening.

The space opened up.

Twenty yards out. Perfect angle.

Bardghji let fly.

A curling, dipping effort, arrowing toward the top corner—

For a brief second, the entire stadium held its breath.

João Paulo sprang to life.

The Santos goalkeeper reacted instantly, leaping at full stretch, fingertips grazing the ball just enough to push it over the bar.

The net rippled—but only on top.

The crowd groaned.

Jake clapped his hands together. That was the moment. They were getting closer.

Bardghji ran a frustrated hand through his hair, then gave a nod.

He knew.

Next time—it was going in.

65' –

Santos needed a reaction.

They had fallen behind, and now their experienced midfielders—Busquets, Dodi, and Jonatan—tried to slow the game down, to regain control.

Bradford didn't let them.

Vélez was everywhere.

He hunted down every loose ball, pressing with relentless energy. Anytime a Santos player hesitated in midfield, Vélez was there, snapping at their heels, forcing rushed passes.

At the back, Fletcher was a wall.

Cross after cross came into the box—and every single time, Fletcher rose highest, heading the danger away.

Even Mensah, who had just replaced Silva in the 63rd minute, wasn't just thinking about attacking.

He dropped deep, tracking Neymar, refusing to give him space.

Santos couldn't find a way through.

Their frustration was growing.

70' –

Then, Neymar decided to take matters into his own hands.

He drifted out wide, standing near the left touchline, waiting for the ball.

When it came to him, he stopped.

The entire stadium tensed.

Holloway, the young left-back, was directly in front of him.

One-on-one.

Neymar vs. the kid.

A flick of the ball. A fake step to the right.

Holloway moved—Neymar didn't.

Instead, he rolled the ball backward, then forward—then nutmegged Holloway with a ridiculous touch, spinning around him effortlessly.

The crowd gasped.

Neymar was through.

Jake clenched his fists—but before Neymar could break into the box, Bianchi came sliding in, clearing the ball out for a throw.

Holloway sighed in relief.

Neymar grinned, ruffling the young left-back's hair before jogging away.

Jake smirked. "Not bad, kid. You only got embarrassed once."

Paul Roberts chuckled. "Yeah, but what a way to get embarrassed."

72' –

Bardghji was in full flow now.

Every time he touched the ball, the crowd rose in anticipation.

This time, he picked it up near the halfway line, spun away from his marker with a quick turn, and exploded forward.

One defender tried to close him down—he skipped past with ease.

A second one lunged in—Bardghji rolled the ball through his legs and kept going.

The Santos defense was in trouble.

Costa made his run, peeling away from his marker at the edge of the box.

Bardghji spotted him and slid a perfect pass into his path.

Costa took a touch, shifted his weight, lined up the shot—

Blocked.

At the very last second, João Basso threw himself in front of the ball, deflecting it away.

Jake shook his head.

That was the moment.

They were so close to sealing it.

78' –

Jake called over Paul Roberts.

"Fresh legs," he said, his voice firm. "We're seeing this out."

Roberts nodded and signaled to the fourth official.

Bradford Substitutions:

Off:

Costa

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Bardghji

Ibáñez

On:

Raphael Mensah (Left Wing)

Leo Rasmussen (Right Wing)

Lewis Chapman (Central Midfield)

Jake grabbed Mensah's arm before he ran on.

"Keep tracking back. Don't let Neymar get space."

Mensah nodded, his face serious. "Got it, boss."

Bradford wasn't just defending this lead.

They were going to fight for every inch until the final whistle.

82' –

Santos had been knocking on the door, and this time, they finally found a way through.

Neymar, who had spent most of the second half drifting wide, suddenly ghosted into the center, finding a pocket of space at the edge of the box.

One touch to control.

One glance at goal.

Then, a venomous strike.

The ball rocketed toward the top corner, spinning wickedly through the air.

Okafor reacted instantly.

He launched himself to his right, stretching every inch of his frame—and got a strong hand to it.

The ball deflected wide.

A collective gasp of relief swept through Valley Parade.

Jake exhaled, turning to Paul Roberts. "That was too close."

Paul nodded, arms crossed. "Five more minutes."

Jake didn't respond. He was too focused.

Neymar wasn't done yet.

88' –

Santos threw everything forward.

They pushed their full-backs high, midfielders overloaded the final third, and Neymar?

Neymar was waiting.

A long diagonal switch from Busquets found him perfectly in stride on the left.

One touch to control.

Richards rushed in—too late.

Barnes stepped up—beaten by a feint.

Neymar drifted into the box, cutting inside effortlessly, dragging defenders with him.

One last move.

A feint left—Barnes followed.

A quick shift right—space opened up.

Jake clenched his fists.

This was it.

Neymar curled a beautiful shot toward the far post.

The stadium held its breath.

Okafor dived again.

Fingertips.

The ball deflected wide.

The Bradford crowd erupted.

Neymar stood still for a second, hands on his hips. He had struck it perfectly—but Okafor had denied him again.

Jake let out a slow breath.

That was it.

That was Neymar's last chance.

90+3' – Full-Time Whistle

The referee blew the whistle.

Bradford City 1-0 Santos.

Jake exhaled.

They had done it.

A statement win.

Silva?

He had played against his idol—and won.

Post-Match – A Dream Come True

As the players walked off, Silva didn't head straight to the tunnel.

He jogged toward Neymar, who was still near the center circle.

The Brazilian legend saw him coming and gave a small smile.

"You played well." Neymar said in Portuguese.

Silva hesitated for a second before finally speaking. "I grew up watching you. I want to be like you. And one day, I want to play for Brazil."

Neymar chuckled. "Then keep playing like that. Brazil always has space for quality."

Silva, still nervous, held out his shirt. "Would you—trade?"

Neymar nodded, pulling off his own jersey and handing it over. They exchanged shirts.

For Silva, this wasn't just a match.

It was the moment of his life.

Post-Match Press Conference

The press room was packed.

Jake took his seat, adjusting the mic.

First question.

Journalist 1 (Sky Sports): "Jake, back-to-back strong performances against Inter Miami and now Santos. What does this mean for Bradford?"

Jake smirked. "It means we're here to compete. These games weren't just about fitness—they were about showing that we belong at this level."

Journalist 2 (BBC Sport): "Your team just beat a squad led by Neymar. What does this win mean?"

Jake nodded. "Beating a team with world-class players like Neymar is never easy. It took discipline, hard work, and belief. We stood our ground, and we got the result."

Then, a different question.

Journalist 3 (ESPN): "Silva looked emotional after the game, trading shirts with Neymar. Can you talk about what this match meant for him?"

Jake smiled. "Renan has looked up to Neymar his whole life. Today, he didn't just play against him—he held his own. And I think, deep down, Neymar saw that too."

The journalists scribbled down notes.

Final question.

Journalist 4 (The Athletic): "You've faced Messi. You've faced Neymar. Next up—Real Madrid. Are you ready for another superstar challenge?"

Jake leaned forward.

"We'll see."

The press room buzzed.

Bradford had beaten Neymar's Santos.

Now, they were heading into battle against the European champions.