Shakhtar Donetsk’s only Ukrainian Premier League defeat this season came in unusual circumstances: a 4-1 reverse to LNZ Cherkasy in a nominal home match staged in Lviv. The players had spent much of the previous night in a bomb shelter after returning from a long trip — a stark reminder of the reality that surrounds the club.
For a team that has tried to remain a symbol of resilience for fans across the Donbass, life and football have become inseparable. Arda Turan, the former Barcelona midfielder turned coach, accepted what he calls one of the toughest jobs in European football.
“I’m not someone who hides behind excuses, but there are things you can’t predict,” Turan told Sky Sports, recalling the night of the bombing after an away trip to Aberdeen. He described going to a shelter, not out of panic but out of concern for family and friends, and trying to function with little sleep. “We never really know the circumstances in which we will play.”
The low point after that defeat was tempered by an unexpected source of courage. A young supporter named Roman, who had lost his home in the conflict and undergone 35 surgeries, visited the dressing room. The eight-year-old told the players not to be downhearted: life has good days and bad days, and they must keep going.
Turan says that message from a child who has endured so much put football into perspective. “Yes, football matters — we must respect our jobs and give everything for the people who follow us — but it is entertainment, not the same as life. Roman taught me that.”
At 38, Turan arrived with a reputation as a promising coach after leading Eyupspor to promotion and a top-six finish in Turkey. He could have chosen an easier path, yet he chose Shakhtar. “You need to leave your comfort zone to be successful,” he explains. He welcomed the challenge of working with a very young squad because it offered the chance to build, learn and compete simultaneously.
Six months into the job, the daily reality has demanded constant adaptation. Unable to play in Donetsk, the club lives largely on the road — qualifiers in Slovenia, Conference League fixtures in Poland, and domestic matches in Lviv. Recovery and routine are disrupted: what would be a short trip for most clubs can stretch into more than a day, meaning players may need 48 hours before they can train or recover properly.
Turan tries to convert these hardships into motivation, reminding the players why they take the field — the sacrifices made by fans and staff, and the responsibility that comes with representing people living through war. He and his backroom team emphasize maintaining a positive atmosphere; often that means keeping things light and fun, even as young Brazilians and other teenagers battle with the psychological toll of displacement and constant travel.
Youth is central to Shakhtar’s current strategy, and it is both promising and limiting. Many squad members are teenagers who still need more rest and are more susceptible to fatigue and injury when fixtures come thick and fast. Turan admits he is often forced to rotate the team because playing the same XI every three days with such travel would invite problems.
After finishing third last season and seeing some key departures and injuries, Shakhtar’s recruitment has leaned towards potential rather than ready-made stars. Turan supports that approach: rather than buying finished players, the club has invested in youngsters with high ceilings. He points to Isaque (18), Kaua Elias (19), Lucas Ferreira (19) and Luca Meirelles (18) as examples of talent the club is nurturing. “Sometimes they will play badly because they are young,” he says, “but we won’t take away their right to make mistakes. The joy when they succeed is completely different.”
Those young players have already produced reasons for optimism. Kaua scored in a recent European victory that came between wins over Dynamo Kyiv and a 7-1 triumph at SK Poltava. Turan admits the progress of his players makes him a bolder coach.
Tactics and motivation must be adjusted to an environment very different from the packed stadiums Shakhtar used to enjoy. “This team played in front of 40,000 or 50,000 fans and now we play for a couple of thousand,” Turan says. That drop in atmosphere makes maintaining intensity a task in itself. He coaches in English and Spanish and uses Turkish for more sensitive conversations, tailoring his communication to help the squad cope.
Roman’s visit has lingered in Turan’s mind and given him a very personal aim. “I really want to win the title for him,” he says. For a coach and a club carrying the weight of a nation’s hopes, that ambition is both a sporting goal and a tribute to the supporters who keep believing despite everything.