What will Volkan Demirel do now? A new “Onyekuru case” is brewing around Sekou Koita, and this time the spotlight on Hatayspor’s coach is even harsher.
In the first leg played at Ali Sami Yen, Volkan Demirel shocked everyone by excluding Gençlerbirliği’s only real star, Henry Onyekuru, from the squad. His “crime” was not a tactical mistake or a disciplinary scandal on the pitch, but being seen in a warm, smiling embrace with Victor Osimhen after the match. That image alone was enough for Demirel to draw a hard line and leave the Nigerian winger out, sending a loud message about “professionalism” and “club priorities.”
Now, after the latest defeat against Galatasaray, an almost identical scene has unfolded – but with a different protagonist. This time it was Sekou Koita who was caught in a close, friendly moment with the same Nigerian star. Cameras captured them laughing and hugging at the final whistle, right after Hatayspor had suffered another painful loss. And the key question emerges: will Volkan Demirel apply the same harsh standard to Koita as he did to Onyekuru, or will he draw a new line and expose himself to accusations of double standards?
Koita’s situation is especially delicate. Brought in from CSKA Moscow with serious expectations, the Malian attacker was supposed to push Hatayspor forward, give the team another dimension in attack, and help carry the club away from the relegation zone. Instead, critics are already whispering that his transfer has “taken the team backwards rather than forwards.” The statistics, the missed chances and the lack of impact in big matches have fueled that narrative. And the Galatasaray game, ending in defeat and followed by those controversial images, has only poured gasoline on the fire.
Onyekuru’s case became a symbol of Demirel’s strict, almost unforgiving approach. The coach wanted to underline that a player’s loyalty must be visible not only in 90 minutes but also in every gesture, every photo, every second in front of the cameras. Being too cheerful with an opponent – particularly a global star like Osimhen, and particularly after a painful result – was presented as a mistake in attitude, a sign of misplaced priorities. Demirel removed Onyekuru from the squad and defended his stance as a matter of club culture.
Now, all eyes are on whether he will display the same consistency. If Koita escapes without sanction after a near-identical scene, supporters and pundits will inevitably ask: was the rule real, or was it only used when it suited the coach? Did Onyekuru pay the price for setting the precedent, only for it to be quietly forgotten when it became inconvenient?
Volkan Demirel has repeatedly stated that his main goal is to keep this team in the league. He knows that every point, every decision, every internal conflict matters. Dropping a key attacking player for disciplinary reasons is a bold move in a survival fight. Yet, in modern football, coaches increasingly see team spirit and discipline as equal in importance to tactical systems. Demirel clearly belongs to that school: he demands that his footballers live the match not only physically but emotionally, and that every gesture be aligned with the club’s pain and ambition.
This is precisely why Koita’s post-match behavior has become such a flashpoint. For some, the striker simply showed basic human warmth toward a friend and colleague – a familiar, almost routine scene in international football. For others, laughing and embracing an opponent while your own fans leave the stadium devastated crosses an invisible line. It sends the wrong message at the wrong time, especially for a player whose own performances are already under the microscope.
The contrast with Galatasaray’s own environment is stark. In the same weekend, the Istanbul giant continues to sit firmly near the top of the table, refusing to give up on the summit in the title race. Inside the club, figures like Metin Öztürk speak openly about “a route that leads only to the championship,” while the dressing room is structured around strong leaders and a clearly defined hierarchy. There, even stars like Mauro Icardi know they are part of a bigger machine, constantly supported, constantly managed – whether it is through tactical adjustments or even “magic words” meant to protect his confidence and form.
Hatayspor, in contrast, is battling at the other end of the table, trying to avoid the drop. The margin for error is tiny, and every distraction can be fatal. In such a climate, Demirel’s zero-tolerance image regarding professional behavior can be both a strength and a risk. It can tighten unity – or create fractures just when the squad needs alignment more than ever.
The broader Turkish football scene is also adding pressure. Across the league, storms are brewing: Trabzonspor and Başakşehir fight for position in the European race; Fenerbahçe Beko’s play-off path is being drawn on the hardwood; giants like Fenerbahçe and Beşiktaş lock horns over prospects such as Berke Özer; and coaching figures like Okan Buruk admit that sometimes they are forced to substitute their best-performing players for the sake of the game’s larger plan. In this turbulent environment, every strong stance by a coach is amplified, every disciplinary choice becomes a talking point.
That’s why Demirel’s next move is not just an internal club matter. If he disciplines Koita the way he did Onyekuru, he will solidify his image as a coach who never compromises, even if the decision harms his team in the short term. Supporters who value strict principles will applaud the consistency: rules are rules, no matter the name on the shirt. Others will accuse him of sacrificing sporting logic on the altar of optics and public image.
If, on the other hand, he decides to let Koita off with a warning or a private conversation, the questions will multiply. Why did Onyekuru get sidelined while Koita stays? Has the coach reconsidered his stance, realizing that such harsh penalties can destabilize the team? Or is this simply a case of two similar situations being treated differently because of invisible internal dynamics – contract situations, dressing-room politics, or the simple fact that options up front are limited?
Koita’s own response will also matter. A public apology, a clear statement that he understands the emotional weight of defeat for supporters, and an immediate improvement in his on-field commitment could shift the narrative. Performances have a way of erasing many sins in football. If he starts to score, assist, and fight for every ball, the memory of a post-match hug will quickly fade. If his form remains weak, those images will be replayed every time Hatayspor drops points.
Behind all of this lies a deeper issue: how far should professionalism go in regulating players’ private gestures and friendships? Modern footballers move from club to club, league to league. They share dressing rooms with dozens of nationalities, build friendships that transcend team colors, and often see opponents as colleagues in a global profession. Completely banning visible camaraderie after the final whistle is unrealistic and arguably unhealthy. But timing and context matter: smiling broadly with a rival after your supporters have just endured a painful defeat will always be risky optics.
For Volkan Demirel, the challenge is to create a clear internal code of conduct that goes beyond individual cases. Players need to know exactly where the lines are – not from social media reactions or press commentary, but from their own coach. If hugging an opponent after a loss is unacceptable, that must be consistently enforced, whether the player is Onyekuru, Koita or anyone else in the squad. Only then can discipline truly become a unifying principle rather than a source of conflict.
There is also a sporting angle to Koita’s story that Demirel cannot ignore. The forward was brought from CSKA Moscow with the expectation that he would become a game-changer. So far, the feeling is that he has not lifted the team’s level; some argue he has even dragged the attack backwards, slowing transitions and failing to deliver in decisive moments. In this context, any off-field controversy automatically weighs more heavily. When your performance is not shielding you, every misstep, every ambiguous gesture becomes ammunition for critics.
In the coming days, Demirel will face the cameras again. He will be asked, directly or indirectly, whether Koita will share Onyekuru’s fate. His answer – and more importantly, his squad list for the next match – will say a great deal about the kind of leader he wants to be known as. Is he the unbending disciplinarian, ready to sacrifice stars to uphold his code? Or a coach willing to adjust his stance in the face of reality, prioritizing sporting survival over strict symbolic gestures?
Whatever he chooses, one thing is clear: the “new Onyekuru case” has already become a test of authority, consistency and vision for Volkan Demirel. In a league where emotions run high, fan bases are impatient and every decision is dissected, this small moment of post-match camaraderie could have outsized consequences – not only for Sekou Koita, but for Hatayspor’s season and their coach’s reputation on the Turkish football stage.