Besiktas JK

Football - not American Football, but what the rest of the world calls football, is taken very seriously here in Turkey. There are several leagues and different rival teams, none of which I know very much about. The head master sent us newbies an article from the New Yorker last March by Elif Batuman about Beskitas JK (stands for Gynmasium Club in Turkish) in which football fans were compared to the mafia and gangs and that violence broke out and there were turf wars etc. When Joe, the activities director suggested that the new teachers go out to a match on a Thursday night I was skeptical. There were several things going for this idea: it is a cultural experience I knew I wanted to have; it is a Thursday before a looong weekend and all I am doing the day after is giving tests; Lizzy would be there to protect me. (When I expressed concern, Joe said that he would make Lizzy (another new teacher) protect me, so I shouldn't worry about anything.) Ok, I was talked into it.

On Thursday Joe, Lizzy, Marshall, Orhan, two of Orhan's kids and one residential student come walking down the hill to pick me up at about 6:30.  We could have gotten on a bus and taken it all the way there (I have passed the stadium many times on the bus) but Joe is anti bus and protaxi.  We got in two cabs and headed down stream.  Traffic was bad, but not that bad and we made it to the stadium at about 7.  We waited for the other cab and then headed in.  Getting in took 20 minutes and it wasn't because we were standing in line (remember Turks don't stand in lines) it was the security. 

Entry Gates

First we had our bags checked and a preliminary pat down.  They have women officers for the women, which I thought was particularly culturally sensitive of them, and then you have to get rid of your coins.  They don't let anyone with coins in any sports venue.  Fans have a history of throwing coins at the players.  I learned this the hard way when I went to see tennis last weekend.  I usually dont carry coins, since I dont usually buy anything, but when I go out, I like to bring some coins for easy purchasing.  The smallest note they have is a 5TL note, but water costs 1/2 TL, a simit costs 1TL, so it is better to carry coins.  I ended up giving all of my coins to help the victims of the Van earthquake last week and therefore new not to bring them with me this week.  Of course once you buy something inside you have coins again, but lets not think about that.

The pat down

Once you don't have your coins any more, you have your ticket scanned and you enter a cattle chutte through a one way turn style. The lanes are very narrow such that only one person can go at a time and there is about 10 feet where you are separated from the outside crowd and the inside crowd, like a no mans land. At the other side there are more police officers who pat you down again, but then we were in.

There are assigned seats, but no one pays them attention and we hiked up to the third tier and found 8 seats in two rows at the end of the field. We still had 30 minutes before the game started and the stadium was only about half full. We watched the players warm up and do some drills and then the lawn zamboni came out and flattened out the grass in front of the goal.

The grass zamboni

When the players came back out onto the field for the game, the extend this tunnel for them and surrounded on both sides of the opening are police in riot gear. The retract the tunnel for the game, but I think it is very telling all the precautions they have to protect the players from the fans.

These riot gear police protected both the Besiktas players and their opponents as they entered the field.

There was a small section on the opposite side of the field where the opposing team's fan sat. There were 3x the security guards, such that there were almost as many security guards as fans. They had a net on both sides and over their heads to keep large projectiles from going in or out, but it didn't stop them from lighting a bunch of green fireworks in the middle of the game. There was this bright green light coming from their section and when we looked up, there was a converging sea of orange decending on it. I wish I had noted the time we saw them, because several minutes later we could distinctly smell the fireworks and it would have been an interesting experiment in diffusion.

You can see the net covering the sparcely populated and heavily guarded opposing team's fans across the field.

Even before the game started, the cheers were going. Everyone seemed to know the words, although some were clearly nonsence. I was really impressed that there didn't seem to be anyone leading the cheers, yet there was no delay while a cheer got started and then srpread. These cheers seemed to rise spontaneously from the entire crowd all at once.


The most moving perhaps, was the Besiktas theme song. Everyone took off their scarves and held them out so that BESIKTAS could be seen in a sea of black and white through the whole stadium. There were others where the scarves were folded in half and swung around your head. Another involved bouncing on your feet such that the stadium looked like rippling water. Some sections would send a cheer to another section and there would be call and response for a few minutes.

The view behind me with the proud fans sporting the black and white.

Lizzy, getting into the spirit

The whole crowd holding up their scarves in support of Besiktas.

 When the other team had possesion of the ball, the noise the crowd made was like the sound of demons being released from hell. I really thought my ears would bleed from the sound. It was made by whistling, the kind of whistle where you put two fingers in your mouth to get the attention of the kid all the way across the play ground, or the cute girl who is walking down the street and one at a time, it is loud enough, but if you get thousands of people doing it at the same time, your head may very well explode. I am sure I lost some high frequency hearing that night. 

Fortunately, Besiktas was triumphant and the crowd left happy. We flowed down the street (taking it over) and started walking back to the town of Besiktas, where we parted ways and I took a bus home. I knew I was dehydrated and smelled like smoke, but I was surprised when I couldn't read my ipod on the bus. When I got home and in the light I realized I was having an aural migrane with the funny eyesight, but no headache. The headache came later, the next morning just in time to teach.

It was a good cultural experience. I am glad I went, but  I dont think I have to do it again any time soon.