Bradford City 4 Carlisle United 0

Bradford City fans have been treated to some memorable occasions over the past ten months or so.

Just when you think that life following the Bantams cannot get any better, along comes another one of those afternoons that makes you so proud of this reborn club.

And so the League One era back at Valley Parade kicked off with a virtuoso home win – as dominant a result and performance as the old ground has witnessed in many years.

Like excited children waiting for Christmas Day, the supporters had been counting down the days for this since the fixtures were released in June. How it lived up to all the expectations and more.

True, Carlisle turned up as a team there for the taking. But how often in City’s past has that appeared the case only for the contest to disintegrate into a great let-down.

Not on Saturday; not by a long chalk. Valley Parade bounced to the theme of “Midland Road, take me home” as a claret and amber carnival got into full swing.

Let’s not be naive, of course there will be much tougher challenges ahead. But just savour the moment and acknowledge a complete team performance which had everything.

How this must have hurt for Greg Abbott, back on the pitch where he carved his playing career.

Such a warrior in claret and amber, he looked shell-shocked by the way his Carlisle side were swatted away like a dozy fly. They showed none of the fighting spirit that he had engendered in over 300 City games.

His post-match inquest was brutally frank. Abbott did highlight the financial inequality between the two clubs – “they are signing Mark Yeates on thousands and we’re signing people on hundreds” – but did not hide behind any excuses.

“Man for man,” he sighed, “they were tougher, more experienced and had more nous. Bradford were all men and we’ve got too many young lads learning their trade.

“All over the field we were very much second best – and I start with the dug-out.”

The 779 away fans, now rehoused back in the TL Dallas Stand, probably had an inkling this was coming. Most, if not probably all, would have seen Leyton Orient put five past them the week before.

One of the Carlisle press took one glance at their team an hour before kick-off and promised to streak across the pitch naked if they kept a clean sheet. Cumbrian gallows humour abounded.

With a 17-year-old making his debut at left back, a midfielder playing centre half alongside him and two untried loanee defenders drafted on to the bench, the back four looked a catastrophe waiting to happen.

I can’t imagine goalkeeper Mark Gillespie had too much to say to his defence on the coach home. For one thing, he probably had no energy to speak given his one-man heroics to restrict the final scoreline to some vestige of respectability.

For most of the afternoon, he stood alone in futile resistance to the wave upon wave of amber attacks. But that should not detract from the quality of the home side.

Phil Parkinson had sent out his players with the message to deliver a statement of intent. As statements go, City’s could not have been more emphatic if the Red Arrows had looped the loop over the Kop.

It was Wembley all over again; Carlisle cast in the whipping boy role of Northampton as they chased shadows to the delight of the raucous crowd.

Parkinson’s decision to make so many changes at Huddersfield had not sat well with some. But here was the reason why he had viewed the midweek so dispassionately.

While Carlisle had been stretched to extra-time and penalties against Blackburn, the bulk of his side had enjoyed a Capital One Cup break.

Experience from last season had taught City how hard it was to raise themselves to go again a couple of days after an extended session. This time, the boot was on the other foot.

Parkinson called for a fast start to test Carlisle’s weary legs and minds, and straight away City were up and at them.

Pre-match interview requests for Nahki Wells had been declined as Parkinson made sure the cocksure Bermudian let his football do the talking against his previous employers.

The Kop taunted Carlisle with their own take on why Wells had left Brunton Park for City two years ago. In truth, the callow youth who struggled to knuckle down for six months in Cumbria was a completely different animal to the predatory striker who will be haunting the nightmares of centre half Danny Livesey after running them ragged.

Evidence of that growing maturity came with the assist for City’s fourth, resisting the urge to go for goal himself after breaking through and instead waiting for Gary Jones to convert.

Wells still got his goal to keep up the 100 per cent scoring record for the fledgling campaign. But he will be annoyed with himself not to have got more than one, however impudent the finish.

Gillespie had already saved from him and James Hanson before the floodgates were opened on 20 minutes.

Given the way the keeper had started, you sensed it might take something special to beat him. The first goal certainly was.

Mark Yeates, the midfield puppet master, drifted in from the left and sent a stupendous right-foot blast beyond the stunned stopper. What a way for the Irishman to announce his arrival on his home debut.

It got better for City five minutes later with another finish of equal skill. Yeates’s was all about power but Wells scored with guile, seizing on a lapse from Paul Thirlwell to nonchalantly curl home from a ridiculously tight angle.

And with Carlisle’s heads still spinning, Livesey slipped as he challenged Hanson for a ball on the edge of the box. That allowed the striker the yard he needed to take a touch before slotting home his first goal of the campaign with his weaker right foot.

Three in nine minutes and you began to wonder how many columns the electronic scoreboard possessed. Parkinson once oversaw a 9-1 win for Colchester – it seemed a decent shout that tally could be under threat.

The fact that City scored just one more was not down to lack of trying. There was no hint of easing off after the break; their manager’s insistence on maintaining a clean sheet did not take the edge off their attacking prowess.

Gillespie pulled off several blinding saves from Garry Thompson and Wells and chances flashed past the post as the onslaught continued.

The fourth goal eventually did come and underlined the team ethic of their headline-grabbing top scorer, rewarding veteran Jones for his 70-yard dash with a straight-forward tap-in.

The shot count rattled up well into the 20s and the fans kept on singing. Another great day to be a Bantam.