“Don’t apologize – go out and do what’s necessary on the pitch!”
Beşiktaş are going through one of the most turbulent stretches of their recent history. In week 30 of the Trendyol Süper Lig, the black-and-whites suffered a 2-1 defeat away to Samsunspor, a result that once again ignited criticism from both supporters and pundits. As has almost become a ritual this season, several Beşiktaş players posted apologetic messages on their social media accounts after the match, asking the fans for forgiveness.
Actor and presenter Ali Sunal, speaking on the “Gol Kralı” program on Vole, reacted sharply to this pattern of repeated apologies. In his view, these public statements have become so frequent that they no longer carry any real meaning.
“Stop apologizing, make amends on the pitch”
Ali Sunal underlined that, in essence, a footballer going over to the stands and apologizing to the supporters can be a powerful and emotional gesture – but only if it is rare and sincere:
> “Players going to the stands at the end of the match and apologizing is actually something very special. But at Beşiktaş, this has now become routine and has started to lose its credibility. You can’t get anywhere like this; you have to go out and play. Because the best apology, the best way to make amends, is always given on the pitch.”
According to Sunal, the problem is not that the squad recognizes its mistakes, but that the response is limited to words and social media posts instead of being followed by a visible change in performance, intensity and mentality.
The inflation of apologies
What used to be a rare scene – the entire team walking towards the away end, heads bowed, hands raised in apology – now unfolds almost every other week for Beşiktaş. The gesture, which should symbolize accountability and respect for the badge, has turned into a kind of automatic reflex after every disappointing result.
From a fan’s perspective, that repetition is dangerous. When apologies become standard procedure, they lose emotional weight and start to feel like a PR exercise rather than genuine remorse. Supporters have seen this movie too many times: poor display on the pitch, a wave of angry reactions, then a carousel of “We’re sorry, we’ll do better” captions accompanied by black-and-white heart emojis.
Sunal’s criticism taps exactly into this fatigue. For him, the fans no longer want to be consoled with statements; they want to see a team that bleeds for every duel, that turns matches around with character rather than hashtags.
Performance over rhetoric
The essence of Sunal’s message is simple: football is ultimately decided between the white lines. No carefully crafted post can block a shot, win a fifty-fifty challenge, or change the scoreline. In top-level sport, credibility is built with sweat, not sentences.
In that sense, “Don’t apologize, go out and do what’s necessary” is more than a punchy phrase. It’s a call to return to football’s most basic truth: supporters accept defeats when they feel the team has given everything. What they cannot accept is the impression of complacency – the idea that a poor performance can be washed away within hours by posting an apology.
If Beşiktaş players want their words to mean something again, Sunal argues, they first need to restore trust with actions: compact defending, relentless pressing, fighting for every ball, and, above all, a sense of urgency that reflects the weight of the shirt they are wearing.
The broader frustration: “We chose the wrong life”
Reactions from fans following the Samsunspor defeat also show a deeper level of frustration, going beyond a single bad match. Some supporters use bitter irony to describe the current state of modern football. One comment reflects this mood with a sarcastic remark along the lines of:
“If only we had chosen differently in life… Imagine being a footballer, going to Beşiktaş, strolling on the pitch in the name of ‘sports for health’, and pocketing millions of dollars for it. We really made the wrong choices…”
Behind the irony lies a serious accusation: part of the fan base feels that some players are not fully committed to the cause, that they are coasting on high salaries without matching that privilege with appropriate intensity and professionalism.
This sense of injustice – players earning fortunes while delivering underwhelming performances – makes repetitive apologies even harder to swallow. For many supporters, it is not enough to “feel sorry” after the game; they expect players to honor the badge through their conduct every single day, in training and in matches.
The weight of saying “I am a Beşiktaş fan”
Another recurring theme in the debate is the concept of identity. There are players and coaches who often underline their emotional connection to Beşiktaş. Some insist that they have supported the club since childhood, or emphasize their affection for the black-and-white colors in almost every interview.
Within this context, one name is frequently singled out for praise: İlhan Palut. The coach has openly stated on multiple occasions that he has never hidden his Beşiktaş identity and sees no reason to do so. Even when provoked by a journalist during a press conference, he calmly reiterated that he has always been transparent about which team he grew up supporting.
For a portion of the fan base, this honesty is refreshing and admirable. It feels more authentic than rehearsed declarations of love for the club that are sometimes used as a shield when results are poor. The message is clear: it is not enough to repeat “I am a Beşiktaş fan” in every speech; that love must be reflected in professionalism, tactical discipline and courage on the touchline or on the pitch.
Emotional gestures vs. sporting accountability
This contrast points to a deeper dilemma in modern football: how much value should be given to words, symbols and emotional displays when they are not backed by performance?
On the one hand, walking to the stands, acknowledging the fans, explaining yourself publicly – all of this is part of a healthy relationship between team and supporters. Nobody expects players or coaches to be robots without feelings. On the other hand, when symbolic gestures are not followed by concrete improvements, they quickly turn into empty rituals.
Ali Sunal’s firm stance fits this skepticism: instead of dramatic scenes after the final whistle, he demands visible transformation before and during matches. For him, the real apology is high-tempo football, tactical discipline, and the willingness to fight until the last minute, regardless of the opponent or the competition.
How players can “apologize” the right way
If one translates Sunal’s criticism into constructive terms, a roadmap emerges for how Beşiktaş players could regain the trust of their supporters:
1. Reduce social media noise – Fewer pre-prepared apologies, more focus on the work behind closed doors.
2. Show intensity from the first whistle – Fans quickly notice whether the team is fully engaged or just going through the motions.
3. Take responsibility individually – It’s easy to say “we” in a statement; it’s harder to accept personal fault and correct it on the pitch.
4. Maintain consistency – One good reaction game is not enough. Trust is rebuilt over a series of matches, not in one evening.
5. Protect the badge in tough moments – How players behave when trailing 1-0 away says more than what they post when they get home.
By following this path, “sorry” would no longer need to be written; it would be felt in every duel, every sprint, every last-ditch tackle.
Mentality as the decisive factor
The Samsunspor defeat is just one result in a long season, but the discussion it sparked centers on something more fundamental: mentality. In big clubs, the margin for error is smaller, and the standards are ruthless. Supporters do not simply evaluate the team based on the score; they judge attitude, courage and ambition.
Repeated defeats, followed by repeated apologies, create the impression of a team stuck in a cycle of self-justification. Breaking this cycle requires a shift in mindset: from defensiveness to determination, from explaining failures to preventing them. The phrase “go out and do what’s necessary” therefore becomes a summary of the mentality change fans and pundits are longing for.
The role of the stands
It would be unfair to talk only about players and coaches without mentioning the influence of the supporters. Beşiktaş’s fan base is known for its passion and unforgiving standards. This dual nature can be a blessing and a curse: the same stands that relentlessly criticize also have the power to push the team to extraordinary performances.
For that relationship to work in a healthy way, both sides carry responsibility. Fans demand commitment but must also recognize and support genuine effort, even when results do not immediately improve. Players, on their side, must understand that the black-and-white shirt does not come with unconditional applause; it must be earned, week after week.
From apology culture to reaction culture
Ali Sunal’s comments resonate because they articulate what many feel but may not always put into words: Beşiktaş does not need more posts, more captions, or more rehearsed sentences. It needs a culture of reaction, not a culture of apology.
Transforming that culture starts with the next ninety minutes, not with the next photo. Every tackle, every sprint and every decision on the ball can either confirm the clichés or begin to erase them. In that sense, the message remains clear and uncompromising:
Don’t apologize. Step onto the pitch and do what has to be done.