Watching Football at Dawn - Akis — Football Case Study

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Watching Football at Dawn Over the Bosphorus
WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY Akis Katsoudas
June 17 2026

Generally speaking, I hate sunrise. Maybe it's because I have associated it with some of the most unpleasant experiences of my life. Maybe it's because I remember how exhausted I used to feel while waiting for the bus after an all-night outing, still a university student, trying to get back home.

I never liked sitting there half-asleep, facing someone much older than me who was equally tired, not because they had spent the night in clubs, but because they had woken up before dawn to go to work. Somehow, that always made me feel ashamed.

On Sunday morning, however, surprisingly, I didn't feel that way. My alarm went off at around 5:50 a.m. In Istanbul, dawn had long since passed. The sun was already high enough to hit me square in the face as I walked from my apartment towards Taksim Square. The square itself and the surrounding streets were relatively quiet.

The only sounds were the endless car horns, which never really stop in this city, and the songs of a few drunken passers-by being held upright by their friends to stop them from falling over. My route was very specific. I had to walk all the way down Istiklal Avenue from Taksim Square to the Galata Bridge, passing beneath thousands of Galatasaray flags still hanging around the city following the club's recent title celebrations, and then catch the ferry to Üsküdar.

That was where I would watch Türkiye's opening World Cup match against Australia. Everyone in Istanbul seemed to be living for this game. It was the country's first World Cup appearance since that unforgettable run to the semi-finals in 2002, played in South Korea and Japan, on the exact opposite side of the planet.

On the Galata Bridge, one of the city's most famous landmarks, the fishermen were already there. Their lines were cast into the waters of the Bosphorus. And they waited. And waited. Until the first fish decided to bite. That could take minutes. It could take hours.

Every time I pass this spot, I find myself wondering how these people can possibly be so patient. Then I remember my father. Every spring we would go fishing together in the river near our village.

Whenever we became frustrated, he would tell me that if you wanted to catch a good fish, you had to wait for it. I'm not sure it ever came for us, but somehow it always came for him. I admire my father for many things. One of them is that he always found a way to make things work. No matter the circumstances, he managed. I hope that, as I grow older, I become a little more like him.

This time, though, it felt as if the fishermen had something else on their minds besides fishing. Some were watching the match on their phones. Others were listening through portable radios. Kick-off was only minutes away.

At Eminönü, everything was unusually calm. Just a handful of passengers waiting for the next ferry. Nothing like the chaos that takes over later in the day. The ferry ride across the Bosphorus is one of those experiences everyone should have at least once in their lifetime.

The view of Istanbul, the fresh sea air, the cries of the seagulls following the boats, whether for companionship or in the hope of being fed, I'm still not sure, and the way people stare out towards the water. People never look at anything else the way they look at the sea.

The noise from the crowd and the voice of the commentator carrying across the waterfront became audible long before our ferry reached Üsküdar. Thousands of Turks, despite the early hour, were standing shoulder to shoulder beneath the morning sun to watch their national team.

Turks love their national team, and they love it so much that even Fenerbahçe and Galatasaray supporters could be seen standing side by side, arms around each other, setting aside their rivalries for ninety minutes.

Expectations for this World Cup are high. With players such as Arda Güler and Kenan Yıldız now established as international stars, many believe Türkiye can remain in the United States until the latter stages of the tournament. The remarkable thing is that this is only Türkiye's third appearance at a World Cup.

The first came all the way back in 1954. Led by legendary Galatasaray goalkeeper Turgay Şeren, Suat Mamat and Lefter Küçükandonyadis, Türkiye qualified for the finals but found themselves in a group with the formidable West Germany and Hungary. They did, however, defeat South Korea 7-0, a result that remains part of Turkish football folklore.

The second appearance was the greatest of them all. Who could ever forget that extraordinary journey to the semi-finals in 2002? Only Ronaldo's Brazil, with Rivaldo, Cafu, Ronaldinho and a collection of world-class stars, could finally stop them. Türkiye eventually finished third after defeating South Korea 3-2 in the third-place play-off. The match is remembered not only for the result, but also for Hakan Şükür's goal after just eleven seconds, still the fastest goal in World Cup history.

After several failed qualification campaigns, Türkiye finally made it back, securing their place by defeating Kosovo away from home. Their group opponents this time are the United States, Australia and Paraguay. Not impossible. Not necessarily easy, either. The opening match against Australia would be crucial.

The Turkish fans wanted only one thing: victory. The game, however, did not go according to plan. Australia scored first. A wave of disappointment swept through the crowd gathered around the giant screen. Yet nothing had been lost. For most of the match, Türkiye controlled possession. The ball simply refused to go in. Instead, Australia struck again on the counter-attack, completely against the run of play. 2-0.

Turks are also an incredibly expressive people. Some lowered their heads. Others sat on the ground, unable to watch any longer. Some lit cigarettes, trying to recover from the disappointment. I vividly remember one couple.

As soon as the final whistle blew, they walked towards the waterfront and stared out across the Bosphorus. The man looked devastated. At one point, the woman wrapped her arms around him. He leaned into her shoulder. Sometimes, perhaps always, the love between people matters more than anything else.

Just a few metres away, the fishermen had already set up their equipment for the day. It was still only nine o'clock in the morning. They had the whole day ahead of them. Plenty of time to catch fish. They remained completely unfazed. And once again, I found myself wondering: how can these people possibly be so patient? —

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