The Coaching System

The atmosphere inside the stadium was electrifying.

Notts County—the league leaders, one of the most dominant team in the division, the promotion favorites—stood on the opposite side of the pitch. if they win today, then its automatic qualification for them.

And Jake?

Jake had just made the boldest decision of his career.

James Holbrook, Bradford's captain, its so-called star player, the fan-favorite, the face of the team—was on the bench.

The cameras zoomed in on Holbrook as he sat stone-faced, arms crossed.

The commentators noticed immediately.

"Well, this is a shocker! Bradford's manager has dropped James Holbrook for this match!"

"He's their best player, their leader—what is Wilson thinking?"

The fans in the away section had already started chanting Holbrook's name.

Jake didn't care.

He knew the truth.

Holbrook didn't fit the system.

And soon, everyone else would understand that too.

Bradford started the match with an aggressive high press, hoping to unsettle Notts County early.

For ten minutes, it worked.

Bradford won the ball high up the pitch, forced a couple of half-chances, and kept Notts County from finding their rhythm.

But then—reality hit.

By the 15th minute, the players were struggling to keep up the intensity.

By the 25th minute, the gaps started appearing.

And by the 30th minute—Notts County punished them.

A quick, devastating counterattack tore through Bradford's midfield.

1-0.

Jake clenched his jaw but didn't react.

He tried to adjust, telling his players to slow the tempo—but the damage was done.

Bradford's pressing game had left them exposed and exhausted.

And in the 44th minute—Notts County struck again.

Another break.

Another goal.

2-0.

The halftime whistle blew, and Jake turned toward the tunnel.

He didn't need to say anything.

His players already knew.

Inside the locker room, the mood was tense.

Some players sat with their heads in their hands. Others just stared at the floor.

Jake stood in the center of the room, looking at them one by one.

"I got it wrong," he said finally. "We're changing everything."

The players looked up.

Jake walked over to the tactics board, erasing the high-press formation.

"We're switching to a 4-2-3-1. No more pressing. We keep the ball, stay compact, and play smart. If we score once, we'll have a chance."

David Reece, the young winger, hesitated. "But we're two goals down. Shouldn't we attack more?"

Jake shook his head. "Not yet. If we go all-out now, they'll kill us on the counter. We wait, then strike."

No arguments this time.

The players nodded.

They trusted him now.

The second half was a different game.

Bradford stopped chasing shadows and started controlling possession.

Notts County, who had expected them to collapse, looked surprised.

Then, in the 63rd minute, Reece picked up the ball on the left flank, cut inside, and fired a low shot into the bottom corner.

GOAL.

2-1.

The away fans came alive.

Notts County suddenly looked uncomfortable.

Bradford pressed forward cautiously, waiting for their moment.

And in the 78th minute, they got it.

A defensive clearance fell to Jake's midfielder, Scott Williams.

He lifted his head, saw Holden making a run, and floated a perfect cross into the box.

Holden rose above the defenders—header.

GOAL.

2-2.

The Bradford bench exploded.

Jake didn't celebrate.

Not because he wasn't happy—but because he knew.

This team wasn't good enough yet.

They had fought hard, but they had started the game too weakly.

They needed better players.

And that meant hard choices were coming.

The post-match press conference was packed.

Reporters leaned forward, microphones extended, eager for answers.

The first few questions were routine.

"Jake, how do you feel about the comeback?"

Jake leaned into the mic. "Proud of the fight. Disappointed we didn't start better."

Then came the question he had been expecting.

"James Holbrook was benched today. Can you explain that decision?"

Jake's expression remained unreadable.

"He doesn't fit my system."

The reporters murmured.

"So what does that mean for his future?"

Jake didn't hesitate.

"It means he should start looking for a new club next season."

The room erupted.

"You're selling him?"

"Are you serious?"

"He's been the face of the club for years!"

Jake simply stood up.

"Thank you."

And he walked out.

The next morning, the backlash came fast.

The Bradford Gazette's front page screamed:

"Wilson to Sell Club Captain – Chaos at Bradford?"

Online, fans were furious.

The club's website forums were flooded with complaints.

"Wilson is ruining the team!"

"He's finally winning games and now he wants to throw away our best player?"

"Absolute madness!"

Jake sat in his office, flipping through headline after headline.

He didn't react.

Paul Roberts entered, shaking his head.

"Boss… you're all over the news. Fans are losing it."

Jake didn't look up. "They'll understand soon enough."

Paul sighed. "You really don't care about the backlash, do you?"

Jake finally met his eyes.

"I care about winning."

He checked his system notifications.

[Ding! Trust Level with Board: +5]

Jake exhaled.

The fans were angry. The media was outraged.

But the board? They backed him.

And that's all that mattered.