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... he stands leaned just a little closer, the sound tucked itself into every pocket of air. Even before kickoff, Jake Wilson could feel it. Pressure, not from the size of the crowd, but from their sharp, expectant silence. They were waiting. Not for Ipswich to play well. For Bradford to bleed.
Four matches in twenty days.
The squad's legs felt it. Even the air around them seemed heavier somehow, thicker in their lungs.
Jake didn't let it show.
At the final team talk, ...
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