Igor Semshov: Everyone in Russia Supports Stankovic22 hours ago7 min read1 comments

The beautiful game, in all its chaotic glory, is as much about the narratives spun off the pitch as the artistry displayed on it, and the recent storm surrounding Spartak Moscow's head coach, Dejan Stankovic, provides a masterclass in the delicate interplay between perception, pressure, and identity in modern football. The Serbian tactician, a former midfield maestro for Lazio, Inter Milan, and his national team, recently voiced a poignant grievance from his homeland, asserting to the Serbian public that he has become a 'target' solely 'because I am a foreigner,' framing this as the 'only reason for the negative attitude towards me from the Russian public.' This raw, emotional claim, echoing in the halls of Russian football, has prompted a necessary and nuanced rebuttal from a respected voice within the game, former Russian international midfielder Igor Semshov, who, while expressing deep respect for Stankovic the footballer, has gently but firmly corrected the record, insisting that 'everyone in Russia supports Stankovic' from a purely footballing perspective, but that the coach's own conduct is the true source of any disciplinary friction. To understand this dichotomy is to delve into the complex soul of Russian football, a landscape where foreign coaches have long been both saviors and scapegoats, and where the legacy of a club like Spartak Moscow—the 'People's Team'—carries a weight that can crush the unprepared.Stankovic, whose playing career was defined by a ferocious competitive spirit and technical brilliance under managers like Mancini and Mourinho, is indeed a 'football man,' as Semshov rightly eulogizes, a point that made his appointment initially met with widespread approval; his pedigree commands respect, a currency hard-earned on the pitches of Serie A and in Champions League battles. However, the transition from celebrated player to emerging manager in one of world football's most emotionally volatile leagues is a perilous one, akin to a brilliant concert pianist suddenly being asked to conduct a symphony orchestra in a thunderstorm.Semshov's critique is not of Stankovic's foreignness, but of his emotional calibration, a pointed observation that 'you must measure your capabilities and forces—behave with dignity. ' The reference to repeated disqualifications, running onto the pitch, and removing his jacket are not minor infractions in the context of the Russian Football Union's disciplinary committee, which has historically taken a dim view of such overt displays, regardless of the perpetrator's passport.Semshov draws a compelling parallel, noting that 'if a Soviet or Russian coach of great stature did this now, it would also be wrong,' effectively dismantling the core of Stankovic's 'foreigner' defense by applying a universal standard of professional decorum. This is where the analytical lens must focus: the issue isn't xenophobia but a clash between a Latin European passion, worn unabashedly on the sleeve, and a more stoic, perhaps rigid, expectation of managerial conduct that persists in post-Soviet sporting culture.The statistics bear this out; Stankovic's disciplinary record—culminating in a one-month ban that Semshov describes as lenient ('on the third time they gave him only a month')—is the real antagonist in this drama, not his nationality. Furthermore, Semshov highlights the fickle nature of fan and media opinion, recalling how 'last autumn we were all praising him' during a period of strong results, a testament to the conditional support afforded to all managers, native or otherwise.The core of Semshov's argument is a crucial separation of the man from his actions: 'In terms of football, everyone supports him. but no one will support him [for the behavior].' This is a sophisticated reading of the situation, one that acknowledges Stankovic's tactical acumen—even while questioning if he has 'over-rotated' the squad—while holding him accountable for the extracurricular antics that distract from it. The shadow of Spartak's recent history looms large here; the club has cycled through a carousel of managers, both domestic and foreign, with few finding sustained success.The pressure to instantly deliver is immense, and for a figure like Stankovic, who feels that pressure acutely, the temptation to externalize criticism is powerful. Yet, in the long, often painful history of foreign managers in Russia, from Luciano Spalletti's revolutionary success at Zenit to the tumultuous tenures of others, the ones who ultimately thrive are those who learn to navigate not just the tactical demands of the league, but its unique cultural and psychological currents.Stankovic's heartfelt complaint, while understandable in a moment of frustration, risks alienating the very 'public' that Semshov claims is fundamentally on his side, at least in their appreciation of his football intellect. The path forward for the Serbian is not to retreat behind a wall of perceived prejudice, but to channel that famous fighting spirit into a more measured, strategic leadership style that his immense footballing knowledge warrants.As Semshov concludes with a tone of almost paternal concern, 'He is wrong to think that. ' In the high-stakes, emotionally charged theatre of Russian football, where every pass is dissected and every word amplified, the truest test of a coach is often not his training ground drills, but his ability to master the narrative. For Dejan Stankovic, a man who conquered Europe as a player, his greatest victory in Moscow may yet be winning the battle against his own perceptions.