Date: Saturday, 13 December 2025Location: Vicarage Road
Vicarage Road smelled of winter—wet grass, cold concrete, something metallic in the air like a blade being sharpened. Bradford's players jogged through their warmups without flair, faces tight, focused. Jake Wilson stood by the dugout, gloves off, fingertips cold but steady. He wanted that. He wanted them to feel the sharpness. To cut with it.
The bus ride down had been quiet. No music. No chatter. Just the weight of his words left hanging over them from yesterday's session.
Make a statement before Christmas break.
Not a whisper. Not a survival draw. A statement.
Watford's team huddled at midfield, heads down. Winless in seven. Bodies moving like they had already accepted another bad day. Jake didn't trust that. Wounded animals still bit if you left your hand too close.
The referee's whistle split the frozen air.
Bradford sprang to life.
