The Confession After Defeat: When Turkey Lost Themselves at Home

That night in Istanbul, the final whistle blew and I sat in the press area for a long time. Down on the pitch, Merih Demiral bowed his head deeply. The 27-year-old captain stood still long enough for teammates to walk over and pat his shoulder. I counted four times he raised a hand to cover his face. It was not a photogenic gesture, but it is what I will remember about this match — not the scoreline, but the bowed head of a man who knew he had let a nation down. Coach Vincenzo Montella entered the press room with a face that could not hide its weight. The 52-year-old Italian tactician did not look for excuses in the referee, the pitch, or anyone else. He said directly that his team played terrible football in the first half, lost too many duels, and allowed opponents to pass through midfield far too easily. Those words, from a man who once stood at the peak of his playing career, are not easy to say. Turkey have now lost both home matches to France and Italy. Two home defeats in a group containing France, Italy and Belgium — a group I call the 'group of death' in the truest sense. Ahead of them are two consecutive away trips: first to Belgium, then back to Italy. Lose both, and Montella's position becomes seriously unstable. This is the moment to watch most closely how a team with character responds to a wound. In the first half, Turkey's midfield lost control. Orkun Kökçü was isolated, with no one covering when the opposition midfield pushed high. Italy did not need to do anything complicated — a few through-balls were enough to send the ball into dangerous areas. Montella admitted after the match that his team 'lacked team spirit' in the first half, language a coach only uses when things have already broken apart. In the second half, Montella changed. He withdrew Orkun and brought on Kerem Aktürkoğlu. Immediately, Turkey became more mobile, more creative. They created clear chances. In the 80th minute, an opportunity from six yards appeared in front of the Italian goal. The whole stadium stood up. Then the ball drifted wide of the post amid a sigh of shattered hope. I heard uneven applause around the press area — not applause of celebration, but applause of regret. In defence, an individual error led to Italy's goal. A moment of carelessness, a slow step, and Turkey's resistance shattered. I have noticed this in many matches: Turkey have a tendency to collapse psychologically immediately after conceding. They do not lose skill; they lose belief. That is a problem of character, not tactics. But amid all the weight, there was one bright point I could not take my eyes off. Arda Güler. The 21-year-old came on and played a different kind of football from everyone else. His dribbles made Italian defenders stop. His passes had the weight and precision of someone already at a higher level. When Arda left the pitch, the whole stadium stood to applaud. I stood too. On a night when his team lost, a 21-year-old was celebrated as a hero. That is football's most beautiful paradox. Merih Demiral came to the interview area with red eyes. He said the team felt ashamed, and he personally apologised to the country's fans. 'The responsibility is on us players,' he said. This captain did not hide behind tactics or anything else. He took responsibility. In an era when players often hide behind media teams, Demiral chose to stand straight and speak the truth. One small detail slipped past every broadcast. Before the match, Leonardo Bonucci — Italy's legendary captain who wore the national shirt for many years — stood in the tunnel area greeting İrfan Can and İsmail, former Fenerbahçe teammates. Bonucci moved to Fenerbahçe on a free transfer from Union Berlin, with no transfer fee. An ageing centre-back, a short-term contract, and a Turkish giant still attractive enough for experienced stars to choose as a final destination. That is a signal about Turkish football's position — not at Europe's peak, but with enough stature to buy experience. Turkey's biggest problem right now is not losing to Italy or France. The problem is an increasingly clear dependence on one individual. Arda Güler is Turkish football's gift, but the team is leaning on him too much. In the match, when Arda entered, the team played differently. Without him, the team was stuck. That is not the signal of a mature team. If Arda gets injured, if he loses form, if an opponent finds a way to lock him down — who else will Turkey have to make a difference? Kerem, Demir Ege, İrfan Can — do they have enough stature to share the burden? More worryingly, Turkey are developing a dangerous psychology: placing hope in individual moments rather than building a system. Arda Güler scores, Arda Güler assists, Arda Güler gets applause. Everything else becomes backdrop. Turkish fans are dreaming of a team built around a genius. But football history is full of stories of teams that fell apart from depending on one man. The two upcoming away trips will reveal a great deal. To Belgium — where the opposition midfield can crush any naivety. Then to Italy — where the old pain is still unhealed. Montella will have to choose: keep Orkun, or rebuild the midfield around a different structure. He will have to decide: start Arda Güler, or keep him as the second-half game-changer. That night, as I left the stadium, I remembered a line from a veteran Japanese coach I once met in Kashima: 'Defeat does not define a person. How they get up defines them.' Turkey lost at home. But they still have two matches to prove otherwise. And Arda Güler, celebrated in defeat, will soon learn that the brightest torch is also the easiest to blow out.