The 9 Labors of Iraklis:
A club that refused to disappear
WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY Akis Katsoudas
March 14 2026
THESSALONIKI, Greece
The oldest football club in Thessaloniki went through countless hardships. It even reached the point of competing in the very last amateur division of the city, facing neighborhood teams. After 9 years, it managed to return to the top division. And the battle to get there feels even more epic than
the 12 labors of Iraklis in Greek mythology.
Iraklis (Hercules in English) was not a typical God of Greek mythology. Before he climbed Mount Olympus and met Zeus, Poseidon, Athena and all the other Gods, he went through enormous trials. He almost died when he was a baby, but he strangled the snakes that Hera had sent to kill him with his own hands. He brought back the Golden Apples of the Hesperides, and he defeated the Nemean Lion that was attacking the city of Nemea, and these were only 3 of his 12 labors. In the end, though, he made it.
In many ways, this resembles the story of modern Iraklis. Only this time, it is not a tall, all-powerful man with strong arms and a sharp mind, but an entire team with thousands of loyal followers who believe in its own mythology and stand by it in both the good and the bad times— mostly in the bad ones.
Let’s go back 9 years: Iraklis is playing a match very different from all the others in a very small football ground, right next to its historic home, the Kaftanzoglio Stadium, one of the biggest stadiums in Greece, and is going against an unknown neighborhood team.
At this point, the team was facing the darkest period in its history, competing in the lowest amateur division of the country, which is something almost unbelievable considering it is the most historic football club in Thessaloniki, with a history that dates back to 1908 with success in Greece and Europe, not only in football, but also in basketball and volleyball.
It was the first football club founded in the city. A city that, of course, had nothing to do with what it is today. It used to be a walled city, with tall walls separating it from the sea. The only thing that has survived on the seafront, which is now perfect for an afternoon walk, is the White Tower, the trademark of the city. During the Middle Ages and the Ottoman period, it was a prison for people sentenced to death.
Right outside the walls was Iraklis’ first football ground. They fenced the area, changed the flow of the stream that passed through the pitch, leveled the ground which had a steep slope, built drainage, a pit, a 100-meter track, wooden stands and a shelter. According to historical texts of the time, the matches were attended not only by Greeks but also by many Turks and Jews.
The same was true for Iraklis players. Notably, one of the most important footballers who wore the blue-and-white shirt in the early years of the club was Alberto Nahmias. Nahmias was born in Thessaloniki in 1905, and later on, he also excelled as a runner in the 100- and 400-meters hurdles, as well as in the 4x100 relay.
Wearing the blue and white, he was among the top players in the Thessaloniki championship victory in 1927. Two years later, on April 7, 1929, Nahmias was called up to be part of the Greek National Team in the first official match in its history against Italy’s second team. In front of 15,000 spectators, the Iraklis player, being one of the best on the pitch, scored in the 60th minute: the first and only goal by the Greek National Team in the 4–1 final score in favor of Italy.
His football career however was interrupted in the mountains of Albania during World War II. The distinguished Iraklis athlete enlisted during the Greco-Italian war along with another 12,898 Greek Jews, and during the war he was among the 3,743 who were wounded. Immediately after, he returned to Thessaloniki. But during the Nazi occupation, his traces were lost. Like thousands of other Jews of Thessaloniki, his fate remains uncertain, with two prevailing versions. The first, more hopeful one, suggests that he managed to escape abroad. The second darker one is that he was arrested and perished in Nazi concentration camps.
He was not the only one. During the Holocaust, it is estimated that around 54,000 Jewish residents of Thessaloniki were deported to concentration camps. Only 1,950 survived and returned to Greece, most of them in a state of extreme deprivation, without property or means of living.
Iraklis supporters, refusing to let his memory fade, have paid tribute to him on multiple occasions, ensuring that his name remains part of the club’s history, even 80 years after the last time he wore the shirt.
Since then, the city has changed. The walls are gone, and so is the first ground. The team, however, was still there despite the difficulties—and still is today. Fate, though, brought it to play against teams that, even in their wildest dreams, would never believe they would compete against. And still, its fans were there. They never left the team even when it was playing in such high divisions.
Among them, the one who immediately caught my attention was an elderly woman, Mrs. Haido. She was experiencing the match very intensely. She was dressed very warmly, I remember, because it was very cold that day. Her thick coat kept her warm, but mostly the blue scarf wrapped around her neck. It warmed her skin, but above all her heart. Her dream was to see the team return to the top division again. Nine years passed, and in the end, the team, her Iraklis, granted her wish.
So we return to 2026.
This day, March 14, there was a match again in Thessaloniki. Only now the team is not playing next to the training ground, but in the big stadium in the penultimate match of the second division against Niki Volos, the second-best team in the league, with whom it fought for promotion. The atmosphere outside the stadium is festive, but not tense. After all, the team has already mathematically secured its goal. The only thing left is to lift the trophy.
Outside the Kaftanzoglio, people have started gathering. Most of them stand around the food stands to eat the traditional sandwich and drink their beer before the match starts. It is a “tradition that never breaks,” they say laughing.
If Thessaloniki is known for one thing more than anything else, it is its incredible food. From sandwiches with pork pancetta on the streets to the legendary bougatsa, which is eaten in every possible way, with cheese, minced meat, and vegetables. My favorite is with custard, cut into small pieces and served with powdered sugar and cinnamon.
One of the best is from Mr. Vasilis in the city center. It is a shop that has been around for 90 years. He himself learned the craft 30 years ago. “Look, here’s how it’s made,” he tells me, showing me a video of himself stretching a sheet of dough for at least ten minutes until it becomes extremely thin.
“It requires great skill. It’s not a simple process,” Mr. Vasilis adds. “The flour you use is very expensive compared to the one used for bread. The oil too. It’s a whole art. That’s why older people didn’t want to teach you the craft, they were afraid you would take their job. But I happened to meet a very good man. He saw I was poor and wanted to help me.”
His shop looks like it came from another era. The price sign behind the counter, the tables, the frames on the walls—it all feels like something from a different time. I quickly ate two pieces and headed towards the stadium, as the match was about to begin.
On the uphill road toward the stadium, two elderly men walked happily and quickly toward gates. “We’ve seen everything. The good and the bad. We’ve seen Hatzipanagis play here,” they exclaimed.
Vasilis Hatzipanagis is the greatest footballer who has ever played for Iraklis, and for many, the greatest player who has ever played in this country. And his story feels like something out of a fairy tale. He was not born in Greece, but in the former Soviet Union from Greek refugee parents. It was there where he learned football. At some point, he came to Greece, and from the start, everyone understood what kind of player he was.
He did not remain in history for his goals, but for his unique skills and the incredible way he dribbled past opponents. Even COPA90 made a documentary about him, calling him, “the unknown Greek Maradona.” He was so good that he had fans beyond Iraklis supporters. It is characteristic that in every away stadium Iraklis played, the stands were full of people who came just to watch him play. The result didn’t necessarily matter to them.
The tragic part was that since he had already played in an official match with the Soviet Union, he was never able to wear the Greek national team shirt. Therefore, the only blue-and-white shirt he wore in his career was that of Iraklis.
The love for him is visible everywhere. Retro shirts with the number 10 and his name on the back are worn even by young kids who only know him through YouTube videos. There’s also a very tall mural of him just a few meters away from the stadium, right next to the basketball arena. In general, the entire area is dedicated to Iraklis, with fan graffiti even on apartment buildings. A neighborhood for the oldest club in the city.
Inside the stadium, supporters were divided into different zones. On one side were the elderly, women and children, and on the other side, hardcore fans.
The members of Gate 10 “Αυτόνομη Θύρα 10,” who are always there to support the team, had a full stand this day. It looked like there was no space left. Among them were also Mainz supporters, with whom they share brotherly relations. They didn't stop singing for a single minute. Just like back in the amateur divisions. Just like now.
On the opposite side, a woman sat alone, but she is not just any woman: it was Mrs. Haido, there in her seat, with the same scarf around her neck, waiting for the match to begin. She doesn’t remember me, but she thanks me for taking her photo. She felt blessed by the team and told me her story about how Iraklis gives her life.
“We got promoted, but we must stay unbeaten, so we must not lose today. I paid for this promotion with my life. For 9 years, I have cried buckets of tears. Someone could see me and say, ‘what is wrong with her?’ But I knew Iraklis differently. I never left Iraklis, even in the amateur divisions. And many others too. That’s why we kept it alive. They tried to erase us from Greek football, but they didn’t succeed.
Iraklis for me is my whole life. My husband was Iraklis. We used to come to the stadium together. But I lost him. He was 33. He was a wonderful man. People still remember him and cry after so many years. He never left anyone without help. Even if he had 10 euros in his pocket, he would give away 5.
I couldn’t have a child. I had an ectopic pregnancy. I went to the other world and came back. In 1961. The doctors came out of the surgery and told my sisters, ‘Who is the bravest to go see her, because she is going to die.’
Here, I am alive. At home, I am dead. It’s one thing to tell you, and another to live it. A whole people love me. At some point, I had spoken with some PAOK supporters. They told me, ‘we wish we could transfer you. We don’t have a woman like you,’” she said, before adding:
“I made my prayer and said: God, please don’t let me die now. Let me see the next match.”
The match ended in a draw. Iraklis did not lose.
Mrs. Haido
After the match ended, everyone moved toward the side of the supporters to celebrate together the promotion to the top division. Everyone standing, pressing their faces against the railings to touch the players. Their heroes. The ones who made their dream come true: to see Iraklis in the top division again. And in the end, they made it.
Mrs. Haido remained seated in her place. Just as she did. Just as she does. And just as she always will. —
Akis Katsoudas is an Athens-based football photojournalist. His passion for the sport ignited during his childhood while watching his village team play. He finds joy in traveling and capturing the essence of football fans, whether they support an amateur team or the world's biggest clubs. In addition to publishing a football fanzine, his work has been featured in multiple prestigious international media outlets. You can find Akis and his work on Instagram and Substack.