The First Step on the Summit: Türkiye and the Promise Unwritten

The stadium may not be full, but the anticipation has already surpassed every wall. When the announcement was made, a tremor ran through every heartbeat. Türkiye, the team bearing the star and crescent, stood at the threshold of a realm they had never stepped foot in. It has been twenty-four years since the farthest day that this nation's football ever touched, and now that road changes its name. The opponents are no longer unfamiliar names but definitions of greatness. France, Belgium, Italy – three blocks of European granite, three epic sagas. They come in September, carrying the weight of titles, the subtlety of tactics, and a culture of victory forged over generations. Türkiye steps onto an arena where victories not only create goals, but create legends. Sitting in front of the screen in Shenzhen, I remember the matches of the national team, the way an overseas fan finds himself in the echoing sound of an evening in Istanbul. This event is not a friendly match. It is a test of character. The first-ever appearance in League A of the UEFA Nations League is not just a milestone on the rankings; it is a declaration to the team's own core that: there is no longer any place to hide. Every night, people talk about football. But few talk about the loneliness of a newcomer. When the news echoed on ATV, the familiar image of the anchor seemed to give more strength to a nation already accustomed to blazing pride. They call it "national excitement." But I call it the suspense of a challenger looking into the eyes of giants. The numbers have said it. But numbers never tell the whole story. The Turkish people do not need anyone to remind them that they are smaller in population, in top-level football history. They need a reason to believe that what they have belongs to them. Every pass, every tackle, every save in the future will not just be an athletic act. They will be written in the language of the pride of a people deeply etched in their hearts. The story of Türkiye does not start on the snowy pitch of the match against Austria. It starts with how they overcame many grueling qualifying rounds, how they rebuilt trust after many long empty years. In the speeches of the leaders, in the eyes of the young players, there is a very new confidence. No longer the impetuosity of youth, but the calm of someone who knows what they will face. France with their superb attack, Belgium with their golden generation thirsting for a final title, Italy with a formidable rebirth cycle. But why must we keep talking about them as giants? Because they have proven themselves to be giants. Each name in this group has its own class, its own tradition. And Türkiye has only just begun to set foot on the summit. The players will face a speed of thought and processing faster than anything they have ever seen in qualifying. That difference – and that difference itself is what makes this tournament worth living. Christmases are not remembered, cups are not remembered, but people will remember the way a boy fell and got back up, the way a nation breathed for the first time the thin atmosphere of a dream. The game does not greet with smiles. It is harsh with sweat. With five substitutes allowed, the last twenty minutes become a battlefield, where alertness and fitness are the line between a point and a collapse. Türkiye has learned that through recent matches – not who comes on, but who comes on at the right time. The coach needs to read the game like a poet reads an ancient poem, understanding the rhythm and knowing when to pause. Will inexperience at this scale of arena pay for repeated mistakes? Can a timely boldness bring down a superbly coached team? These are open questions that can only be answered on the field. Commentators will talk about tactics. Numbers like xG, PPDA, and pressing lines will become new metaphors. But beneath all the layers of analysis, there is still a human story. How many boys practiced kicking a ball against walls dreaming of one day facing Kylian Mbappé or Marco Verratti? Tonight, such a dream becomes reality. It is no longer just the team's dream, but the dream of every heart that has wept because of football. And yet, all the excitement also comes from a media plan. ATV and Turkuvaz Medya have seen the value in these world-class performances. It is a business opportunity, a chance to capture the attention of millions of viewers. We must look at the motives of the broadcasters. Does the excitement they sell us carry the breath of truth, or is it just an advertising contract written by television directors? Every camera angle, every commentator, every slogan aims to keep viewers glued to the screen. Football is presented as a modern story, staged by the media industry. Is this excitement, all this excitement, born from the heart of a fan or from the marketing department of a corporation? That difference will determine how we live with expectation and how we embrace defeat. But I still choose to believe in the power of dreams. Because no television contract can shape the genuine emotion of a child taken to the stadium for the first time by their mother. No advertising ranking can price the smile of a father seeing his child wearing the national team jersey. Türkiye's true value in League A does not lie in their final position on the table, but in the way they leave deep footprints in the memory of a nation. There will be players who shine. There will be goals repeated forever. And there will also be losses that no words can explain, moments when the entire nation falls silent. That is football. That is life. But what Türkiye brings to this tournament is not victory or defeat. It is the spirit of a people who have overcome everything to breathe the same breath as the best. They will not need a crown; they need a reason to bleed. And they have found that reason. Remembering those Sunday mornings in Vietnam, when I was still a child, walking through streets to find a café with television signal. The atmosphere was different, but the passion was the same. Goals create joy, defeats create regret. An entire life cycle of a fan revolves around the round ball. Türkiye is no stranger to that fervor. They have carried their hearts through many battles, many expectations, and many tears. Now, they sit at the same table with those who have been masters of the most glorious nights. Based on my experience watching matches, I know that at big stages like this, a team is not judged by friendlies or optimistic statements. They are judged by how they react when everything is against them. Will Türkiye stay calm when trailing in the 30th minute against an Italy with passes like shiny metal? Will they dare to play an attacking, dangerous brand of football against France's famously formidable defense? These questions can only be answered by them. Because football never lies. It only exposes everything – what you have and what you lack – right on the open field. Once again, September knocks on the door. The match is scheduled for Friday, September 25, against France. It is a day when the whole country will look toward a small screen, where the dream of millions of people is condensed. How many Vietnamese people in Saigon, in Shenzhen, will wake up at midnight just to hear the opening whistle? I know one such person, someone who always finds in football not just matches but a symphony of life. And to him, any past victory of Türkiye is also a victory of perseverance. When the match ends, whatever the score, the story will continue. It will become part of a generation's memory. Children born in this era will grow up with stories of how Türkiye first entered the world of giants. Will they remember a win, or will they remember a defeat where the team fought beautifully and bravely to the last minute? Football is a sport of cruelty and generosity. It is cruel to the weak, generous to those who accept the challenge. And I believe Türkiye, no matter what, is ready. Because a team that knows it needs to bleed is a team ready for glory. Each drop of sweat falling on the grass of League A will soak into history. One cannot measure the value of a nation by the length of the golden cup, but by the depth of the love that nation has for the game. Türkiye has proven that through generations, and now they have the opportunity to continue writing their story. Once again, the Copenhagen night returns as an omen. When Eriksen's heart stopped, all of Europe stood still listening to itself break. Not because of the team, but because of the human. Football is for humans. Greatness does not come from tactics, but from daring to face fear. And for Türkiye, fear is not defeat. Fear is not daring to step onto the arena. They have stepped up. Now, let the ball roll, let history be written, and let hearts beat in unison. And when the first whistle blows, it no longer matters who we are, where fans are on the world map. We are all part of a miraculous story. What happens after that night, when the stadium lights go out? What happens after a week full of storms in France? Is there a greater song to be sung, a dream to be cherished more? The answer will come from them, from the match itself. And we will be here, waiting, listening, and believing.