Mauro Fabris’ remarks about Turkish volleyball and the “rock star” treatment of players have triggered a strong response from leading Turkish coaches. While the Italian Volleyball League president tried to draw a line between entertainment and sport, his words were widely perceived in Turkey as dismissive of the work, discipline and sacrifices that stand behind the recent rise of Turkish volleyball – especially in the women’s game.
At the heart of the debate is Fabris’ cümle: “I read that in Turkey, volleyball players are treated like stars, like rock stars. But we’re not doing rock, we’re doing sport.” For many Turkish coaches, this statement doesn’t just miss the point; it ignores decades of systematic work, investment in youth development and the social impact that women’s volleyball has created in the country.
Nedim Özbey: “Calling them rock stars is a serious injustice”
Veteran coach Nedim Özbey underlines that he has known many of today’s elite players since they were children. Behind every medal, every sold‑out arena and every social media post, he reminds, there are years of invisible work:
“I’ve watched these athletes grow up. I know very well what they and their families have sacrificed. Summarising all that effort with a label like ‘they’re raising rock stars’ is, in my view, a serious injustice to your daughters.”
Özbey accepts that success inevitably brings visibility and a form of celebrity. When athletes become role models, interest from brands, media and fans follows naturally. But for him, this creates responsibility rather than a problem:
“With so much attention, it becomes even more important for our players to build their careers carefully and consciously. They must make decisions that serve their long‑term development, not just short‑term popularity.”
A significant part of that, he stresses, is how athletes manage their relationships with agents:
“Some people who disturb the balance in this environment are, frankly, bad agents. Sport is done on the court. You don’t become a volleyball player through advertising or PR. You step onto the court and show your performance; the rest is details. Those who use management for the wrong purposes are not only harming the player-club relationship, they’re betraying the essence of the profession.”
Despite his criticism of the system around the athletes, Özbey’s stance toward the players themselves is unequivocal: “I stand by our girls to the very end. I’m proud of every one of them.”
Bülent Meriç: “Italy’s fear is showing”
Coach Bülent Meriç interprets Fabris’ comments as a sign of discomfort in Italy with Turkey’s rapid rise in volleyball:
“For Mr. Fabris to say such things just as his term is ending shows how much Italy actually fears us. First, look at your own country… We’ve learned to manage our own issues, even by arguing among ourselves.”
Meriç openly embraces the fact that Turkish women’s volleyball has become both successful and attractive to the media:
“Our girls are beautiful, charismatic, and yes, very photogenic. What should we do, apologise for that? If necessary, we can ‘do rock’ and play volleyball at the same time. Is it a crime to be beautiful and successful?”
He also reminds Fabris of the strong links already formed between Turkish volleyball and Italian coaching:
“Look, we already have two Italian ‘sons‑in‑law’ here: Guidetti and Abbondanza. You don’t actually have that many top coaches; apart from a few, the rest are just well packaged and aggressively marketed by clever, hungry agents.”
According to Meriç, the real story in Turkey is not about inflated fame but about an expanding base:
“In the women’s game, there used to be only two clubs consistently fighting at the top: Eczacıbaşı and VakıfBank. Now you have Galatasaray, Zeren Spor, THY, Aras Kargo, and next season Beşiktaş will join the race. Volleyball schools are packed all over the country. If we added more high‑quality coaches there, the pipeline would be even stronger.”
He notes an important shift in the sports economy as well: “In the past, clubs chased sponsors. Now sponsors chase clubs. That alone shows where Turkish women’s volleyball has reached. So Mr. Fabris shouldn’t be looking at us; he should be looking at Italy. But his time is up, he’s leaving. Good‑bye, no need to linger. Our women’s volleyball is complicated enough; we barely manage it as it is.”
Ahmet Reşat Arığ: “Did we grow volleyball, or just its popularity?”
Coach Ahmet Reşat Arığ takes a more analytical angle, focusing on the bigger picture behind the controversy. For him, Turkish volleyball has not only collected trophies, it has also transformed its social footprint:
“In recent years, Turkish volleyball has gained huge momentum not only through results, but also through its social impact. International titles, full arenas, players becoming role models, and the increasing interest of brands have all translated into something very concrete: the expansion of women’s youth teams and volleyball schools across the entire country.”
This, he insists, is not an accident: “We’re living the outcome of a long process – years of structured work, especially at club level in women’s volleyball, followed by the national teams amplifying that success on the international stage.”
One of the clearest reflections of this process is in the youth structure:
“Girls in youth teams now choose idols according to their own positions on the court. They follow these stars not just for their technical skills, but also for their lifestyles on social media. They copy what they wear, how they eat, what they do in their free time. Some criticise this, but in reality it’s completely natural. In every sport, top performers inevitably become icons of the discipline.”
For Arığ, this is where the crucial question lies:
“Did we genuinely develop the game of volleyball itself, or did we simply get carried along by a wave of growing popularity?”
His answer is nuanced. Popularity, he argues, is a double‑edged sword. It can bring investment, infrastructure and opportunities, but it can also create illusions – both for the public and for young athletes:
“If we mistake fame for quality, if we assume that being visible automatically means being well‑developed technically and tactically, then we’re fooling ourselves. Our responsibility as coaches is to ensure that beneath the glamour, the foundations of the sport remain solid.”
The “rock star” debate: visibility vs. substance
The criticism from Fabris touches on a broader tension in modern sport: when do athletes cross the line from being simply competitors to full‑fledged celebrities?
In Turkey, women’s volleyball has become one of the clearest symbols of this transition. Players are brand ambassadors, social media influencers, and public figures whose statements on social issues carry weight. For some traditionalists, this visibility risks turning sport into show business. For many Turkish coaches, however, it is simply a by‑product of excellence.
The key distinction they draw is between image and foundation. No coach interviewed denies that some aspects of the environment have been over‑commercialised, or that certain agents and intermediaries focus more on quick earnings than long‑term careers. But they reject the notion that Turkish volleyball has become a hollow spectacle. Instead, they describe a structure where hard work came first, and popularity followed.
The role of agents and media in shaping careers
One theme that emerges strongly is the ambivalent role of agents and media in the current landscape. Coaches like Özbey see “bad agents” as distorting both the market and expectations:
“When an agent pushes a player more for social media appearances, marketing deals or transfers that look good on paper rather than for technical development, the athlete can lose focus. The damage might not be visible immediately, but it shows up a few years later in stalled careers and wasted potential.”
Media exposure, too, demands maturity from young players. Being on magazine covers or fronting campaigns can be empowering, especially for women in a region where female athletes historically had limited visibility. But it also brings pressure: constant comparison, criticism, and the feeling of having to perform a “role” even off the court.
This is why many Turkish coaches now see “media literacy” and “career management” as part of the modern training package. Young athletes are increasingly given guidance on how to use social media responsibly, how to choose professional representation, and how to separate their public persona from their core identity as athletes.
Youth development: beyond the spotlight
Behind the glamour, the engine of Turkish volleyball remains its youth system. The boom in volleyball schools and regional academies has not only increased the number of players, it has also changed who gets to participate in the sport.
In many cities, volleyball has become a gateway for girls to enter organised sport for the first time. Parents who may be hesitant about other branches often see volleyball as a safe, respectable and aspirational path – largely because of the positive role models at the national team and club level.
This mass participation base is one of the main reasons Turkish clubs can sustain deep rosters and competitive domestic leagues. The challenge now is to ensure that quantity is matched by quality: better coaching in small cities, more modern training methods, and a clear pathway from school gyms to professional arenas.
Women’s volleyball as a social symbol
Another dimension that Fabris’ comments overlooked is the social meaning of women’s volleyball in Turkey. For many, these athletes are not just stars of a sport; they are symbols of independence, discipline and international success.
Matches of the women’s national team regularly attract viewers who might not follow any other sport. The team’s victories have come to represent a broader narrative: that Turkish women can compete with – and often outperform – the best in the world in a physically demanding, highly tactical game.
In that context, treating players “like stars” is less about frivolous fandom and more about recognition. When young girls see their national team players being celebrated, sponsored and talked about, they receive a powerful message: your work, your body, your effort on the court are valuable and visible.
Balancing elite success and grassroots needs
Still, the warning raised by Arığ and others is important: popularity should not distract from structural needs. As more money, brands and media attention flow into the top of the pyramid, it becomes tempting to focus resources on already established stars and big clubs.
To truly “grow volleyball” rather than just its image, Turkey must maintain investment in coaching education, regional leagues, school competitions and infrastructure. The goal, according to many insiders, is to ensure that today’s boom does not turn into a bubble.
That means building mechanisms that will outlast any single generation of players or a particular “golden era” of the national team. It also means creating a culture in which the next big star is not a product of chance, but the predictable outcome of a robust system.
What Fabris’ comments missed
Fabris attempted to draw a sharp line between sport and show, but for many in Turkey this division is outdated. Modern high‑level sport inevitably contains elements of entertainment, branding and storytelling. The issue, Turkish coaches argue, is not whether athletes are visible, but whether that visibility rests on genuine merit.
From their perspective, Turkish women’s volleyball has earned its spotlight: through clubs that dominate European competitions, a national team consistently fighting for medals, and a youth pipeline that keeps growing. To dismiss this by framing the players as mere “rock stars” is seen as reductive at best and condescending at worst.
If anything, the reaction of Turkish coaches suggests confidence rather than defensiveness. They acknowledge the flaws in their own system – problematic agents, uneven coaching quality in some academies, the risks of over‑commercialisation – but they prefer to address these as internal reforms, not as arguments against the legitimacy of their success.
Looking ahead: from moment to legacy
The real test for Turkish volleyball will not be winning the next title or filling the next arena; it will be turning this moment into a lasting legacy. That means:
– Continuing to professionalise youth development and coaching education.
– Supporting players in managing fame in a healthy, grounded way.
– Regulating the role of agents to protect both clubs and athletes.
– Using the sport’s popularity to promote participation among girls in every region of the country.
If these goals are met, the current generation of Turkish volleyball players will be remembered not only as “stars”, but as pioneers who changed both their sport and society.
And in that sense, whether they are called athletes, icons or even “rock stars” becomes secondary. What matters is that behind the bright lights, the core remains intact: discipline, hard work, team spirit and a game that keeps improving on the court – where, as every coach reminds, the real answers are always given.