From Winter to Wonder
The past month delivered enough plot twists to fill a Turkish soap opera, but with considerably more men in shorts. January brought us an interim manager's steady hand, a Norwegian helmsman's arrival, and the usual emotional rollercoaster we've grown to love (or at least tolerate). Between fading title hopes and chasing European dreams, we managed to pack enough drama into thirty-one days to make Shakespeare consider a career in sports writing.
Before we dig into Ole's tenure, let's set the scene… Beşiktaş entered 2025 with more questions than answers, a newly elected board facing another election in six months, cycling through managers faster than a teenager swipes through social media. Serdar Topraktepe, our interim solution, steadied the ship just enough to keep it from sinking entirely. Like a substitute teacher who actually knows the subject matter, he brought a calm competence that, while not revolutionary, at least kept us from setting the classroom on fire.
On the Pitch
Home win to Bodrumspor, 2-1 started promisingly enough, not unlike a first date that peaks during appetizers. The yacht club visitors proved tougher than their resort town reputation suggested, making us work for three points we'd already mentally deposited in our account.
Home draw to Samsunspor, 0-0 felt like a missed connection at a busy port. Our maritime visitors, enjoying their best season since phones had cords, frustrated us with the kind of defensive display that makes attacking play look like a quaint historical concept. That final header haunts us still, hanging in the air like an unanswered text.
These matches under Topraktepe weren't revolutionary, more like instant coffee on a Monday morning, doing just enough to keep us functioning.
Enter Ole
Then came Ole, with his boyish smile still carrying echoes of that night in Barcelona '99. At Manchester United, his journey from super-sub to saviour to sacrificial lamb played out like a Shakespearean trilogy: the heroic rise defeating PSG away, the promising middle act reaching second place, and the inevitable fall that all United managers seem destined for. Now in İstanbul, he arrives with something to prove and a point to make, much like our club itself.
The script feels familiar… A beloved former player returning to restore glory, except this time it's someone else's glory he's chasing. His United tenure showed both promise and limitations. But perhaps that's exactly what we need, a manager who understands both triumph and tribulation, who's danced with giants and stubbed his toe on reality.
The New Era Begins
Home win to Athletic Club, 4-1 wasn't just a victory, it was a statement written in neon lights. Ole's debut turned our corner of İstanbul into a theater of dreams.
Away draw to Antalyaspor, 1-1 brought us back to reality between ancient ruins and resort complexes, where our post-pasta-siesta Italian forward's rare assist met a sloppy defensive lapse to split the points.
Away loss to Twente, 0-1 in the Dutch university town sent our European dreams back to school for remedial classes.
Home win to Kırklarelispor, against a sleepy Thracian border town whose main claim to fame is being the last stop before Bulgaria, where the local club punches above its agricultural weight in the cup competition. The 2-0 victory played out exactly as you'd expect on a wind-swept night at the Olympic Stadium. Our cup campaign now shows three goals scored, none conceded, comfortable enough to avoid heart medication but nervy enough to keep cardiologists on speed dial.
January Movements
As January folds into February, our midfield slowly disperses: Al Musrati finds himself in Monaco (the irony of a gambling-averse player in Casino Country writes itself), Jean Onana heads to Genoa with a hopeful price tag, and Cher Ndour's loan spell ends prematurely. Meanwhile, the transfer rumour mill spins with its usual January fever, linking us to every available player within our budget constraints.
The club seems caught between two impulses: the urgent need for reinforcements and the equally pressing need to balance books thinner than a vegetarian pide. Our squad, like a wedding guest list drawn up by quarrelling in-laws, feels incomplete yet somehow overcrowded.
Ole faces the kind of challenge he's familiar with. Building something sustainable while delivering immediate results. The European dream might have taken a hit in Enschede, but with the league still wide open and a cup run to chase, there's everything to play for.
The Norwegian Revolution
The Norwegian contingent grows stronger than a fisherman's grip on his morning coffee. Ole brings with him Erling Moe, fresh from molding Molde into a Norwegian powerhouse, and Richard Hartis, whose goalkeeping wisdom spans the Red Devils' glory years. Scout John Vik arrives with a reputation for spotting talent in Scandinavian fjords, while Tom Green brings the kind of match analysis that makes Turkish coffee-readings look outdated. Together, they're modernizing our methods faster than you can say "work-rate," with a backroom harmony that sounds suspiciously like a Norwegian folk song.
Whether this Norwegian chapter of our story ends in triumph or teaches us another lesson in patience remains to be seen. But at least we know one thing: it won't be boring. It never is.
See you in March.