Weight of the Jersey: A Sport Psychology Take on Fenerbahçe’s Improvements

Due to my line of work, I try to take an objective stance on teams I favor in terms of how sympathetic they appear to me. At the end of the day, their biggest rival could be the one helping me bring bread home. Yet, there is a team to this day I cannot apply this "natural" sounding rule to: Fenerbahçe. In Turkey, you are not just born into a family, but to a team as well. It was impossible for me to have love for a team other than Fenerbahçe.

There are two reasons: first, every member of my family, dating back to the grandfathers of my grandfathers, were Fenerbahçe fans. I was not born with a lot of options to choose (or the illusion of choice for that matter), as the whole family would intervene if I even muttered the names of our rivals in a positive sense. Second, no team could have ever given me the memories Fenerbahçe gave me. I am not talking about memories of success here, as the past decade has been devastating in that sense. More so, the memories I mention here refer to the small kid I once was, sipping his plain tonic at his grandfather's house, sitting beside him and his dad in front of the TV watching games, and learning football from their conversations about what was going well or wrong on the pitch.

For my first blog post, I was a little lost on what to write about. I came up with many ideas that did not move me even a little bit, but would be relevant to the field of sports psychology. Since it's been a while (my university years in Toronto) that I felt I wrote anything meaningful (I've been just writing boring job application emails with the same boring tone and message, trying to catch a break for once) I thought it is only sensible to base this first post on something that actually moves me, filling me with nostalgic feelings and passion that I feel I have lost sometimes.

Fenerbahçe might not be the first team that comes to mind when someone thinks of sports or football, probably not one of the first 100 things even. Yet, their situation in this very unsuccessful past decade shows so many insights into how important and crucial mentality is in sports, and how pressure affects and burdens a team. I believe this post will not just be interesting for me to write and read, but for all of you who are reading this as well. Without further ado, let's start with a short summary of the depressing story of Fenerbahçe and how it is transitioning into something hopeful after so many hard years.

The "bad omens" began the morning of July 3, 2011. After completing a huge comeback to surpass rivals Trabzonspor after being down 9 points halfway through the season, a massive accusation of match-fixing brought dark clouds over the squad. Fenerbahçe had secured its 18th Turkish League championship, surpassing all of its rivals, and was heading into the summer transfer season with 250 million euros to spend. Names such as Eden Hazard and Lassana Diarra had started to be mentioned in connection with possible moves to the club. After the accusation, such dreams were crushed as the club president, Aziz Yıldırım, was arrested. The club faced a huge financial burden, and the best players lined up to leave wherever they could as soon as possible.

I do not intend to go deep into the political story of this accusation and the reasons behind it, so I will fast forward to two seasons later, when Fenerbahçe won their last championship to this day: the 2013/14 season. They broke a record and became the earliest champions in league history, announcing their guaranteed win around April. In the previous two seasons, Fenerbahçe's biggest rival Galatasaray capitalized on Fener’s situation and won the league two times in a row. With Fener's latest championship, the ground was leveled again with both teams having won 19 total Turkish League titles. The first team to win the next one would complete the goal of having four stars. Fenerbahçe seemed to have the upper hand once again, despite all the troubles they faced, coming into the season with the confidence of being the earliest champions in league history.

Twelve seasons have now passed, and Fenerbahçe is yet to win their 20th championship. Each season has been more depressing and tragic than the last, as Fenerbahçe has had the most second-place finishes in these 11 years and the most points obtained without a league cup to crown these achievements. Under the presidency of Ali Koç, great coaches, once thought to be “the needle in the thread,” came to save the team from these dark clouds and carry them to glory days once again, yet none succeeded. Philip Cocu, Erwin Koeman, Ersun Yanal (who won Fenerbahçe’s very last championship in 2013/14), Tahir Karapınar, Erol Bulut, Emre Belezoğlu, Vitor Pereira, İsmail Kartal, Jorge Jesus, and last season one of the biggest names in coaching, José Mourinho, have all passed through the club under Ali Koç’s presidency.

In his seven years of presidency, Fenerbahçe fans have seen over 11 coaches and over 100 player transfers, some of them being big names such as Edin Dzeko, Dusan Tadic, Nelson Semedo, Milan Skriniar, and Mesut Özil. Was the issue the coaches or the players? Maybe in some cases, yes. Mesut Özil was away from football for over two years when he signed with the club. José Mourinho, despite his reputation, finished second and displayed the least enjoyable football out of all these coaches, losing all the derby games, which are highly valued by fans in Turkey. İsmail Kartal was the closest to finally ending the “spell,” collecting 99 points and not losing any derbies, but still falling short to rivals Galatasaray’s 102 points. Former Fener striker Edin Dzeko said, “Even if we had collected 103 points, we would have not won that year.” This quote summarizes the barrier Fenerbahçe has faced all these years: the mentality fed by the former presidency to the players and coaches that no matter what happens, something will go wrong and against Fener's way.

How come all these coaches and players who have succeeded everywhere else they coached or played leave the club without winning any trophies? As I mentioned, I will refrain from getting into any politics to answer this question because, although they might have had an effect on these results, they are not the sole reason why Fenerbahçe became such a fragile club.

When former president Ali Koç took over from legendary president Aziz Yıldırım, it had been four years since Fenerbahçe had last won the title. But what had started to become common during the end terms of his presidency passed to the new president even more intensely: the sense that no matter what, something would go wrong. The fans became delusional, and who can blame them? After seeing quarter-finals in the Champions League, semi-finals in the Europa League, and winning a league title only once every few years, Fenerbahçe was coming second almost every year in the most tragic ways possible. The team would give huge hopes of championships and then fail to deliver.

As tragedy increased, delusion increased as well, and fans started to take their anger out on the club in any way possible: booing their own players and coaches and calling for the presidency to resign in the middle of games. Matches became arenas for protest, spaces where fans could vent their frustration from all these unsuccessful years.

Are the fans delusional for blaming players who arrive at the club with the huge burden of helping the team win a league title immediately, without time to adapt? Yes. Can we blame them? No. Fans have the right to be disappointed and to protest in some way, but when the arrows point at the players, it almost becomes impossible for them to do anything positive on the pitch. Home games turn into hostile environments for the players, as the people who are supposed to show love and support become their biggest critics.

The fans have diluted memories of success, remembering past victorious years as better than they actually were. Now, one mistake or a single underperforming player can lead them to say that the player “cannot carry the weight of the jersey.” Things went wrong in the past too; great players underperformed back then as well. Yet, there was a prevailing feeling, both for the team and the fans, that no matter what, Fenerbahçe could find a way to win. In the last seven years, this atmosphere has diminished completely. For the fans, everything now needs to go perfectly, and if one thing goes off plan, stress and anxiety take over the stadium, which directly affects player performance.

But who is to blame, and who has the power to fix this situation? You might naturally think the coach can, which is true, but not alone. The presidency needs to be aware of the situation and avoid acting in the same energy levels as the fans. They must stay calm and avoid radical or drastic decisions.

The preceding club president, Ali Koç, tried his best but failed to do so, as he was under a lot of pressure himself. Since his departure in September, however, things have taken a turn for Fenerbahçe. They are currently standing in second place behind Galatasaray, down by one point, and will play them in the upcoming fixture with a chance to reclaim first place.

Newly appointed president Sadettin Saran assessed the situation of the team very well. He understood the fans, did not blame them for the team’s performance, and communicated that they cannot succeed without their support. He understood the team as well, recognizing how difficult it is to perform under such pressure, especially for players who have recently joined the club. He also supported the coach, Domenico Tedesco, who took over José Mourinho's team, which he left as disorganized as possible, and offered him full trust and backing.

Things still go wrong during some games this season. In the last three league matches, Fenerbahçe went down 2-0 in the first half twice, including in a derby game against Beşiktaş. Yet, the team was able to stay focused, not be affected by the score, and show character by coming back to win the games 3-2 and 5-2 respectively.

So what had been going on before that has changed now? We have finally arrived at the point where science can explain what happens in the brains of elite athletes in these high-pressure situations. I apologize for any of the readers if the "history" part took too long. But to present the situation accurately, I felt it was necessary. I have even refrained myself from giving even more detailed version of the summary of the past 7 years and on.

The players and coaches that came to the club in the last 7 years were all given the same message: "we haven't won in years and we have to win now". No time for adjustments, no time to figure things out, everything had to go right within the season. Fans had enough with waiting for a title and the club management was aware of all the frustrations and anxiousness, which they mirrored to the team. If a player commits the slightest mistake, you could feel the atmosphere in the crowd shifting and the sounds of disappointed grunting, eventually turning into extreme protests of the fans against their own players. In response to these protests, the team loses its connection to the fans, feeling like they are in a hostile environment ready to ridicule them for any mistakes. This leads to the mindset of "let me get the ball out of my feet as soon as I can" in order to avoid making any mistakes and avoiding the hostility.

In hostile environments, it is a natural response for our brains to over-activate the amygdala, which is responsible for processing fear. When this happens, several things start to go wrong for an athlete on a neurological level. First, fear signals from the amygdala interfere with the prefrontal cortex, the part of the brain responsible for decision making, creativity, tactical awareness and controlled movements. When fear is high, the prefrontal cortex becomes less active and the athlete’s thinking becomes narrower as the body enters a fight or flight state.

This response originally evolved to help us survive dangerous situations. However, in today’s world, social hierarchy, status and public evaluation play a huge role in how safe we feel. Because of this, the fight or flight response can also activate in situations that are not physically dangerous but feel threatening to a person’s identity or ego, such as performing in front of a hostile home crowd. Players, as a result, stop scanning the field, stop taking calculated risks and fall into very basic, almost robotic behaviours.

This is not because they are “cowards” or “cannot handle the weight of the jersey” as some fans used to claim so. It is simply a physiological response: the brain prioritizes survival over performance. When the amygdala takes over, the motor system becomes tense, muscles tighten and movements lose fluidity. This is why players suddenly start making simple passing mistakes or fail to execute skills they perform perfectly in training. Their body is in a state designed for protection, not creativity.

In this state, players shift from "play for the sake of good football" to thinking to “play not to lose.” Instead of attempting a vertical pass or a dribble that could break the game open, they choose the safest option possible, usually passing the ball back or getting rid of it quickly. This reduces individual brilliance and eliminates the unpredictability that wins matches. Ironically, avoiding risk increases the chance of actually making mistakes, because nervous movements are less precise and much easier to read by the opponent.

When a team plays in constant fear of fan reactions, overly critical media coverage or internal pressure from the club, the brain remains in this threat state for long periods. Over time, this can lead to chronic stress, burnout, and even a type of learned helplessness, where players start to believe that no matter what they do, something will go wrong. This is exactly the type of psychological pattern that seemed to repeat itself for years at Fenerbahçe.

There are some studies that reflect in detail how Fenerbahçe players might have been feeling in such situations. A study conducted by Gabrys and Wontorczyk (2023) examined athletes’ sensitivity to negative and positive fan behaviour. They found that male athletes display more fear of negative evaluation from fans and that they place more importance on the amount of support they receive compared to female athletes.

The same study also found that young athletes are more susceptible to these outcomes than experienced, veteran athletes.This helps explain why players like Edin Džeko and Dušan Tadić were less affected by protests and were still able to show love and understanding toward the fans even during periods of intense criticism. It also explains why less experienced players such as Sebastian Szymański and Youssef En-Nesyri appeared visibly disheartened by fan protests, at times showing gestures of disappointment toward the stands.

When these players enter a fight or flight state, their frontal cortex focuses more on the reactions of the fans rather than on their own performance or the performance of the team. Attention is a limited resource in the brain, and the more attention the fans occupy in a player’s mind, the less capacity remains for decision making, ball control, creativity and executing skills at the level they are capable of. If we think of attention capacity as a empty circle, ready to be directed at relevant things in the environment, the stress, pressure and fear from the fans can be thought of the circle being half colored half empty. Less space remains to make sense of relevant cues in the environment to make the right plays. For example, a player might not realize he has space to dribble forward and attempt to get the ball out of his feet, missing out key opportunities to make the correct play.

The reason Fenerbahçe is showing improvements is not because the players suddenly understood the so-called “weight of the jersey,” as fans sometimes claim. It is also not because fan behaviour has dramatically changed, since protests still appear from time to time toward certain players. The decrease in protests has been a result, not a cause, of improved performances, both individually and as a team. These improvements began with the arrival of the newly appointed president Sadettin Saran and his decision to fully support Dominico Tedesco and the entire squad. Despite speculation that club legends might return as coach, Saran remained committed to the current staff and players.

One of his first statements was: “To me, our players are the best players in the world and our coach is the best coach in the world, from the moment they step into Fenerbahçe.” For the first time in seven years, the players and technical staff felt genuine trust and love from club management. They no longer felt the urgency of becoming champions immediately. They stopped focusing on distant end-of-season outcomes and were finally given space to think game by game, learning from each match rather than obsessing over the final league table. The club stopped comparing itself to rivals and began comparing itself only to its own past performances, aiming to improve day by day.

Thinking game by game removes immense pressure from the players. Previously, they were asked to think constantly about a championship that would be decided months later. When a goal is too far away, players lose track of the concrete steps needed to reach it, which are winning the next match and then the one after that. To reinforce this new mindset, Dominico Tedesco placed a new quote inside the training facility: “The most important game is the next game.” The players seem to have bought fully into this approach. In recent interviews, they have often been asked, and sometimes baited, into comparing themselves to Galatasaray. Instead, they respond by repeating that they do not care about their rivals and that their sole focus is the next match.

What Tedesco and Saran achieved here is a restructuring of how the team sets goals. In sports psychology, one of the most commonly used goal-setting frameworks is the SMART method. Goals become specific, measurable, attainable, relevant and time-bound. In my work with clients, I usually begin by guiding them toward a large or ideal self goal. Then we identify smaller goals that act as stepping stones to reach that ideal. Saran removed the “win now” pressure, but he never denied that this team aims to become champions. Instead, he prevented the team from obsessing over the final result by introducing a series of small, manageable goals with Tedesco’s help.

When the focus is placed on the next match, the goal becomes specific. It becomes measurable beyond simply win or lose because each player has a clearly defined role and set of instructions for that match. The goal becomes relevant because it directly contributes to the larger dream of becoming champions. It becomes time-bound because the deadline is the very next fixture. With clear structure and smaller goals, the overwhelming pressure of chasing a championship fades away. Players concentrate on the tasks assigned to them. When those tasks are based on accurate analysis and executed with clarity, winning becomes far more likely.

It is easy for me to propose solutions from the comfort of my couch, with all my attentional resources available and none of the real pressure on my shoulders. I fully acknowledge how hard it is to apply these methods as an athlete in real time. At the same time, we must acknowledge that solutions do exist, and that it is our responsibility to help elite athletes access them. These solutions are not meant to be attempted for the first time in the heat of the moment. They must be mentally rehearsed. Just like our biceps and triceps and quadriceps, the brain is a muscle that must be trained for these strategies to work.

Fenerbahçe’s recent improvements are not the result of abstract ideas like understanding the “weight of the jersey.” They are the product of psychological stability, trust and a clearer performance structure provided by the new management and coaching staff. When pressure is reduced, when goals become concrete and short term and when players feel supported rather than evaluated, the brain shifts out of fear and into performance mode. The team begins to use its full cognitive capacity again: decision making improves, creativity returns and confidence grows through repeated small successes.

What we are seeing now is the natural outcome of a healthier environment. The players are no longer stuck in a fight or flight state caused by fear of failure or fear of fan reaction. Instead, they are guided by a system that values growth, consistency and clarity. Fenerbahçe’s story shows once again that psychological factors are not secondary in elite sport. They are often the missing piece that transforms potential into performance.

I hope this has been an interesting read for the ones who made it this far. It has been very fun for me to write, not only because I am writing about the team that made me love sports in the first place, but also because of how many relevant examples it provides for the field of sports psychology. I hope to provide more content soon and continue this journey of sports journalism mixed with science and sports psychology.