The First Goal

Meeting the Team

Amel

My first few days at Galatasaray have been intense, but I'm finally settling in and starting to feel more at ease. As part of my job, I'm working on memorizing the names and faces of all the players. With each profile, I'm trying to get a feel for their personalities and styles so I can bring a more genuine approach to the club's social media presence.

There's Muslera, the captain and goalkeeper, who has a calm yet commanding presence; he's practically a legend here and has earned deep respect from everyone. Then we have Icardi, the charismatic forward, whose fan following is massive—he's known for his flashy style both on and off the field, and his intensity on the pitch. Kerem Aktürkoğlu, the hardworking winger, seems down-to-earth and consistently focused on improvement, which fans love about him. There's also Dries Mertens, the experienced Belgian player, who seems like the "big brother" of the squad, always looking out for the younger guys.

And then there's Barış Alper Yılmaz. I recognize him immediately from the endless TikTok videos and social media hype. With his good looks and swagger, he has this "bad boy" appeal that fans go crazy over. Plus, he's played for the national team, which has only made his popularity skyrocket. But to me, he just seems like someone with a bit too much ego, someone who's probably used to getting attention and isn't shy about it. I can't deny he's talented, but I'm not exactly impressed by the hype around him.

Just as I'm finishing up my notes, my manager, Umut, stops by my desk with a new idea.

"Amel, I've been thinking," he starts, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You're going to be handling social media for the players, right? It might help if you get to know them a bit personally."

I nod, curious about where he's going with this.

"I suggest you plan some one-on-one interviews with each of the players. Spend a few minutes with them after practice this week, get to know their personalities," he explains. "It's essential for what we're trying to build here. We want each player to feel valued, and fans should see them as people, not just athletes."

I smile, nodding along, even though the thought of interviewing the whole team is slightly intimidating. "Shouldn't be too hard, right?" I say, mostly to reassure myself. Umut gives me a look that says he knows it might be more challenging than I think, but he lets me have my moment of optimism.

Over the next few days, I prepare for the interviews, diving into each player's background, statistics, and fan reactions. I want to make sure my questions are thoughtful, insightful, and make the players feel seen beyond their roles on the field.

The office itself is also starting to feel more familiar. Surprisingly, Merve, who had seemed a bit standoffish initially, has turned out to be incredibly kind. We finally had our coffee date, and she's become something of a support system here. She's the type of person who knows everyone and isn't afraid to tell me who's worth knowing and who's not. During lunch, she even helps me feel more comfortable with the team, introducing me to colleagues and making sure I feel included. Her warmth is a relief in an environment that can otherwise feel a bit cold.

However, not everyone has warmed to me. There are a few colleagues who make a point of highlighting that I'm "from Europe," often with a slight sneer. My Turkish is decent, but I hear a few muffled laughs when I speak, as if my slight accent is some kind of joke. It stings, but I brush it off and remind myself why I'm here. I have a job to do, and I'm not about to let a few judgmental people throw me off.

One afternoon, Merve and I are having lunch outside, and she notices my frustrated expression as I glance toward a group of colleagues who seem to be watching us and whispering.

"Don't worry about them," Merve says, rolling her eyes. "Some people can't handle anything different. They think if you didn't grow up here, you won't understand anything."

I chuckle, appreciating her honesty. "It's just frustrating. We're all Turkish here, technically."

"Technically, yes. But they see you as 'foreign' because you didn't grow up with the exact same experiences." She shrugs. "People can be narrow-minded, but don't let it bother you. Just do your thing, Amel. They'll either respect you for it eventually or fade into the background."

Her words stick with me, and I focus on preparing for the interviews, determined to prove myself through my work. I've got all my questions lined up, and I know each player's profile inside out. Tomorrow, I'll start with the captain himself, Fernando Muslera, followed by Kerem, Mauro Icardi, Dries Mertens, and finally, Barış.

As I'm heading home that evening, I run into Gizem, who's just getting off a late shift at the hospital. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she looks exhausted but greets me with her usual bright smile.

"How's the internship going?" she asks as we walk back to our apartment building.

I grin. "It's intense but good. I'm actually getting to interview the players tomorrow."

Her eyes widen, and she raises her eyebrows playfully. "Interviewing the whole team? Including Barış?"

I laugh. "Yes, including Barış. Although I don't think he'll be particularly excited to answer a bunch of questions from an intern."

Gizem nudges me with her elbow. "I wouldn't be so sure. People tend to like it when others take an interest in them. Who knows, you might actually get to see the real person behind the social media persona."

I wave her off, grinning but skeptical. "We'll see about that."

As I head up to my apartment, I feel a thrill of excitement mixed with nerves. Tomorrow will be my first time meeting the players up close, and it's my chance to connect with them in a way that can help build the club's image authentically. It's a big opportunity, and I'm determined to make the most of it.