“Do we go onto the pitch just to keep everyone happy?”
The worst job in football is not losing, nor conceding a late goal. It’s stubbornness. Blind, pointless, ego-driven stubbornness. The kind where thousands of people scream “don’t do it,” most of the football public wonders “what is this guy doing in this team?”, and yet the coach insists on forcing the same mistake until everyone pays the price. We, as Beşiktaş supporters, lived through this last season in full.
Now Montella is walking down the same path. Either he has some bizarre obsessions, or he’s trapped by the choices made before him and can’t break free. And this is the “danger” zone: where insistence becomes more important than logic, performance, and basic common sense.
How can you watch Kerem for this long and pretend you don’t see that he’s not contributing? Do you need a coaching license to notice that? How do you fail to say “stay” to Aral when it’s obvious you’re crying out for his profile on the pitch?
We all knew Australia would come out like a basketball team – physical, intense, running non-stop, crashing the box with numbers. The coach himself admitted after the game that he expected exactly that.
Then why, when you have a 1.90 m centre-forward sitting right next to you on the bench, do you refuse to use him? What justifies this? Even the often-criticized Umut Nayir, with all his limitations, once brought clear benefits simply by being a real striker. His presence changed dynamics. He occupied defenders, opened space, gave the team a reference point.
We’ve already seen what happens when a coach gets obsessed with playing without a striker. Jesus did the same thing: a whole season sabotaged by the idée fixe of “false nine football” in a league and environment where such stubbornness simply doesn’t work.
And it’s not just about one game plan, one line-up, or one player selection. One of the biggest problems, which might not be obvious to the naked eye but exploded in this match, is that Montella clearly hasn’t prepared this team for a World Cup-level tournament. Physically, mentally, tactically – they look unfinished.
Even Barış Alper’s haircut, if you like, reflects on the coach. They’re trying to act clever before they’ve mastered the basics – trying to “shock the world” when they haven’t even done their homework. That’s the state we’re in.
So we return to the key question:
Do you send a team onto the field to keep everyone around you pleased? To make this official happy, that federation member satisfied, that agent content, this star player comfortable? Is that what a national team selection is now?
Looking at the starting XI, you don’t see a structured game idea. You see a table set, pickles stored, nostalgia seated in the corner, a long dark night fully arranged – but no coherent game plan for a side that may as well have been playing against a squad of near-Anzacs. You had time, you had information, you knew the opponent’s style, and still you couldn’t shape a functional strategy.
Basketball needs a real presidency model
Since basketball is the only branch right now that looks like it has some steam, I want to spell out my idea for it more clearly.
In the club, presidential elections are held – unless something extraordinary happens – every three years. This is in the bylaws. Fine. So why not apply a similar model to the basketball section?
My proposal is simple and I stand firmly behind it:
Let there be a separate, elected president for the basketball department.
Candidates put themselves forward openly. We all see who truly wants to serve this section. The basketball branch is directly connected to the main club president, but nobody else interferes with its income and expenditure. No random intervention, no “friendly advice,” no grey areas.
At the end of each season, there is a clear financial reckoning:
– A deficit? That is absolutely unacceptable.
– Any loss is covered personally by the basketball branch president.
– If there is a surplus, it rolls over to the next season’s budget.
If sporting success has also been achieved, if the transfers are welcomed by the supporters, and the branch is growing properly, that president continues. If not, someone else takes over. This framework can of course be improved and refined, but the main point remains: basketball leadership should be determined by election, with responsibility and accountability.
If this model works and gains acceptance, the same structure can be applied to volleyball and handball in subsequent years.
What does this change? What does it unlock?
First, it takes the weight off football. When you have branch presidents who think carefully before spending, who are forced to manage every penny as if it were their own, you naturally create a tougher, more disciplined, more competitive environment inside the club. Informal rivalries, positive competition, and higher standards begin to emerge among managers.
Over three to five years, with the right people, we might suddenly find ourselves at a dramatically higher level – not because some miracle happened, but because structure forced competence. This system would also bring hidden talents to the surface: people who were never given a chance under the usual “friends and acquaintances” appointments could finally step forward and prove themselves.
I insist: this would be an excellent, almost transformative move.
Why stubbornness in coaching is so destructive
Returning to the national team and to football: stubbornness at the top doesn’t just ruin one match. It destroys confidence across the squad. Players who perform well in their clubs look like shadows of themselves in the national shirt. Rotations become meaningless. Meritocracy disappears.
When a coach keeps picking the same underperforming names:
– Others stop believing that good training or strong club form will matter.
– The dressing room splits between “untouchables” and “expendables.”
– Risks are no longer tactical but political.
Refusing to change Kerem despite his ineffective displays is not only a tactical mistake; it is a message: “It doesn’t matter what you do, some players do not get benched.” Failing to hold on to a profile like Aral – in a squad that clearly lacks his characteristics – sends the same message in reverse: “You can give everything, but you’re still disposable.”
In this climate, no system, no “philosophy,” no fancy diagrams can save you.
The missed opportunity of a real striker
Modern football loves to talk about pressing, half-spaces, inverted full-backs. All important concepts. But in tight, physical games like the one against Australia, you often need something much simpler: a classic centre-forward who knows how to fight, occupy two defenders, win aerial duels, and give your team a fixed point in the final third.
You had a 1.90 m striker available. You chose to ignore him.
This isn’t about idolizing old-school number nines. It’s about using the resources at your disposal. Sometimes you have to put your tactical ego aside and admit:
“Today, this game calls for a big man up front.”
Many coaches in recent years have paid the price for refusing to admit that. Jesus is one example; Montella looks dangerously close to repeating the same script.
Preparing a team for a World Cup is more than picking names
The national team’s problems run deeper than one bad line-up. A team being built for a World Cup needs:
– A clearly defined core of 6-7 players around whom everything turns.
– Two or three alternative game plans for different types of opponent.
– Physical conditioning tailored to tournament intensity.
– Clarity about roles: who presses where, who covers transitions, who is the late runner into the box.
What we are seeing instead is a group that looks as if it’s meeting for the first time every match. No automatisms, no clear partnerships, no visible understanding between lines. The coach talks about philosophy, but on the pitch, you mostly see improvisation and guesswork.
Club structure vs. national team chaos
The irony is striking. In our clubs, we are talking about installing better systems: elected branch presidents, financial responsibility, transparency, a culture that rewards competence. Meanwhile, at the national level, we are still stuck on:
– “This one must play, his backers are strong.”
– “Don’t drop that one, you’ll upset people.”
– “Call this guy, he’s well-connected.”
– “Don’t risk the dressing room harmony.”
You cannot run a national team based on who needs to be kept happy. That logic might prolong a coach’s tenure for a few months, but it guarantees underperformance when it matters.
Why a branch presidency model would also help football
Some argue: “There can’t be multiple presidents in a club; the club and its presidency must be singular.” They miss the point. Nobody is suggesting splitting the club into separate kingdoms. The main club president remains the top authority. What changes is accountability for each branch.
If basketball, volleyball, or handball are run by elected, responsible leaders who:
– Have clear budgets,
– Answer for every loss,
– Benefit from every surplus,
then football automatically becomes less of a dumping ground for every structural weakness. The club stops leaning on football as the only branch that “must” cover everyone else’s chaos.
In such an ecosystem:
– Mediocre football directors feel pressure from the success of other branches.
– Short-term populist decisions look worse compared to disciplined, well-run departments.
– The whole sports culture of the club matures.
Hidden talent in management, not just on the pitch
We love to talk about “hidden gems” among players, but rarely think about the same in management. There are undoubtedly people out there who:
– Understand budgeting,
– Know how to negotiate transfers smartly,
– Have a long-term sporting vision,
– Are not part of the current inner circles.
A branch presidency system gives these people a natural way in. They don’t need to be school friends with the main president or appear at every VIP box. They just need to win an election within a clear framework and perform.
If they succeed in basketball or volleyball, why shouldn’t they later take on bigger roles in football, or even the entire club?
The common thread: stop living to please others
Whether we are talking about the national team coach or club structures, the core problem is identical: decisions are being made to please people, not to win competitions.
– You pick players to avoid upsetting certain power groups.
– You keep starting underperformers to “protect” dressing room balance.
– You resist structural reforms because they threaten old habits.
Football, however, is merciless. The scoreboard doesn’t care who’s happy in the background. It doesn’t care about political balances, media pressure, or agent friendships.
The question that should guide everything – from Montella’s squad choices to how Beşiktaş runs its basketball section – is brutally simple:
Does this decision increase our chances of winning?
If the answer is no, then it doesn’t belong on a team sheet, in a boardroom, or in the future of the club.