Halfway through its 18-game inaugural
season, the league has met a combination of indifference, curiosity
and occasional hostility.
“Football is seen as a man’s game in Turkey,”
said Nurper Ozbar, 30, the coach of Marmara Universitesispor, the top
team in the second division of the league, which also has two youth
divisions.
“We’ve had men come to watch our practices
and yell at our players: ‘What are you doing here? You should
be at home, cooking!’ ” said Ozbar, one of the few women
accredited as a soccer coach in Turkey, and the only one in Istanbul.
“It’s going to take time to change this.”
Turkey has thriving professional women’s basketball
and volleyball leagues. Soccer, for the most part, remains a men’s-only
zone. In a country of 70 million, only 798 women and girls are registered
as players with the Turkish Football Federation, soccer’s governing
body. In comparison, about 230,000 male players are registered with
the federation.
For the players in the women’s league, just finding
their way to a team can be a monumental challenge. Deniz Bicer, a midfielder
with Gazi Universitesispor, the only women’s team in the Turkish
capital, Ankara, has to travel almost two hours each way to get to practice.
“In my neighborhood, because it was seen as a
man’s game, there was pressure on me and my family that I not
play football,” the 18-year-old Bicer said after Gazi’s
3-1 victory over Kartalspor.
“People kept telling me this is a man’s
game, you should be interested in other sports, but football is a passion
for me,” she said.
The new league is Turkey’s second attempt at
establishing women’s soccer. An amateur league of about two dozen
teams existed in Turkey for a decade until it was shut down in 2002
amid allegations of mismanagement and rumors of affairs between female
players — particularly scandalous in this country.
This time around, the Turkish federation appears intent
on promoting the idea of women’s and girls’ soccer to a
skeptical nation.
“A lot of our work is public relations, to convince
families that girls can play football,” said Erden Or, 33, the
federation’s development officer for women’s soccer.
“Some believe that playing football can harm
a girl’s build and make her manly,” Or said.
“They believe that it’s a man’s game,
so we have to show them proof that they can play football without a
problem,” added Or, whose wife chides him for kicking the ball
around with their 3-year-old daughter.
Or has been crisscrossing Turkey, staging panel discussions
in different cities with coaches and female players and answering questions
from worried parents and resistant physical education teachers. When
he finds out about a girl whose parents refuse to let her play soccer,
Or said, he phones them to help ease their minds.
“If she wants to play, I will call them directly,
like a father inquiring about a bride,” he said.
Selling women’s soccer also requires dolling
it up. One of the new logos for the league features a slender woman’s
hand with long, red-painted fingernails cupping a soccer ball. The background
on Or’s computer screen is a photograph of a soccer cleat with
a stiletto heel.
Despite Or’s effort and some financial assistance
from the Turkish federation, getting by is a struggle for most of the
teams in the new league. The news media have mostly ignored it, and
sponsors have been hard to find. Kartalspor had to forfeit an away game
a few weeks ago because the team could not afford to make the six-hour
trip to Izmir.
“We’re getting a lot of moral support,
but not a lot of financial support,” said Ozbar, the Marmara Universitesispor
coach. “We don’t have a sponsor, so I’m paying for
our expenses out of my pocket.”
She added: “Our players don’t look at this
as a profession because they can’t earn money from it yet. They
can’t picture a life for themselves in football.”
There are some hopeful signs for the league. Although
the first-division teams tend to come from more liberal cities, girls’
teams are sprouting in unlikely places, including in Hakkari, a town
in the predominantly Kurdish and conservative southeast region.
In Sakarya, just outside Istanbul, the local women’s
team’s winning streak has led to real crowds at its games.
“In Turkey, the biggest power is success,”
said Sinan Panta, 41, the president of the Sakarya Yenikent Gunesspor
Kulubu team, currently atop the women’s first division with 10
wins, 1 tie and 1 loss. “At our first game, there were 100 people.
As we started winning more games, we’re now seeing 2,500 or 3,000
fans at our games.”
For next season, Panta said he had rounded up enough
cash to bring in a Nigerian transfer, midfielder Onome Ebi, who played
on her country’s 2008 Olympic team.
“The people here initially weren’t friendly
to the idea that women could play football, but we’ve broken that
idea down,” said Panta, a former professional player. “We’ve
achieved our goal: we’ve made Sakarya accept women’s football.
We’ve succeeded in a conservative place.”
At the Kartalspor-Gazi Universitesispor game, a motley
mix of curious men and boys gathered in the stadium, a bleak, half-finished
cement structure overlooking a busy highway. Standing nearby was Selmin
Odabas, the mother of a player named Selin, a speedy 20-year-old striker
for the home team.
“In the beginning, we didn’t want our daughter
to play,” Odabas said. “We were worried that it would affect
her posture, her character, even her sexual orientation. We put her
in volleyball, in track, but nothing could stop her.”
As Selin’s skills improved — she was named
to the national women’s team — their attitude changed, Odabas
said.
She pointed out a wiry man nearby shouting encouragement
at Kartalspor’s players and cursing their opponents.
“Now her father is a fanatic fan,” she said.
Bulent Cinar, a translator, contributed reporting.
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