It’s 2016, you’re watching a Barcelona match, and the stadium echoes with the names of superstars.

Lionel Messi, the eternal genius, is on the pitch.

But there’s another name, not quite the protagonist but possessing his own aura—Arda Turan.

The Turkish midfielder arrived at Barça with fanfare, known for his skill, his vision, and, as the world would soon learn, his explosive temperament.

But let’s rewind, because this isn’t just about football.

It’s a story that reads like a novel of ascent, collapse, and possible redemption.

Arda Turan was born to be a star in Turkey, dazzling at Galatasaray before crossing borders to Atlético de Madrid, where he became a key figure in Diego Simeone’s relentless squad.

There, Turan won La Liga, the Copa del Rey, and the Supercopa, before Barcelona came calling.

Who wouldn’t dream of that—playing alongside Messi, Suárez, and Neymar, the magical trio that ruled Europe?

Between 2015 and 2018, Turan lived what many would consider the ultimate dream: sharing a locker room and the pitch with Lionel Messi.

Imagine walking into training every day and seeing, just a few meters away, the man many believe is the greatest of all time.

But as the old saying goes, not all that glitters is gold.

While Messi was the embodiment of quiet footballing genius—the man who spoke little and played much—Turan carried a different burden: his temperament.

And here, the story takes its sharpest turn.

In 2018, while on loan at Başakşehir in Turkey, Arda Turan’s life spiraled into a police chronicle.

It all began in a nightclub, where he crossed paths with Turkish pop singer Berkay Şahin.

According to Şahin, Turan harassed his partner, and what could have ended as a heated argument instead escalated into violence.

Turan, furious, broke Şahin’s nose.

As if that wasn’t enough, Turan later went to the hospital where Şahin was being treated and fired a gun into the floor.

Yes, you read that correctly.

The former Messi teammate, a champion in Spain and idol in two countries, was firing a gun inside a hospital.

What do you think at that moment? How can someone who had it all—who played alongside the world’s best—end up here? The trial was inevitable.

Turan was acquitted of harassment but convicted of intentional injury, illegal possession of a firearm, and firing a weapon in a public place.

The sentence: two years and eight months in prison, suspended on the condition that he not commit another crime within five years.

A lifeline for someone seemingly destined to sink.

But here’s where the story takes an unexpected turn.

Instead of vanishing from the football map, Turan chose to hang up his boots at his beloved Galatasaray—the club where his journey began—and start anew as a coach.

Many believed his career was over, that he would be just another name lost in football’s darker pages.

Yet, in April 2023, he was appointed head coach of Eyüpspor, a modest Turkish club, far from the bright lights of Barça or Atlético.

And then, in April 2024, Turan led Eyüpspor to promotion to the Turkish Super League with five games to spare—a historic achievement for a club unaccustomed to the spotlight.

Currently, Arda remains the manager, with a respectable record: 44 wins, 14 draws, and 22 defeats.

When you look at his journey in perspective, it’s impossible not to wonder what truly shapes a football career.

Talent? Temperament? Second chances?

Arda Turan was lucky enough to share a team with Messi, to experience football at its highest level, but he also carried personal demons that nearly destroyed him.

Rather than being forever trapped by the label of “problem player,” he managed to reinvent himself.

It’s curious, isn’t it? While Messi continues to shine at Inter Miami, collecting Ballon d’Ors and global applause, Arda Turan—the teammate who once wore the same shirt—is striving to build his own redemption story, far from the big stage, in a corner of Turkish football.

In many ways, Arda Turan’s story is an uncomfortable mirror for the world of football.

It’s one of those narratives that remind us that behind the talent and trophies, behind the iconic shirts and famous names, are human beings loaded with flaws, passions, and mistakes.

When you hear that Arda Turan shared a dressing room with Lionel Messi between 2015 and 2018, the first thing that comes to mind is the abyss between them.

Not just in terms of talent—Messi is in a galaxy of his own—but in character, in how each faced pressure and fame.

Messi, eternally reserved, letting his feet do the talking.

Turan, who never quite tamed his temperament, on or off the pitch.

What’s most disturbing is that Turan didn’t fall due to lack of opportunity or an unfair environment.

He fell by his own hand.

Let’s put it in perspective.

Here’s a player born to succeed—a star in Turkey, a leader for Simeone’s Atlético, an important piece of a golden-era Barcelona.

He had Messi as a teammate, learned from the best, lived in one of the most successful dressing rooms in recent history.

Yet, while Messi wrote new chapters of his legend every week, Arda was scripting his own downfall.

The 2018 incident is a breaking point that can’t be taken lightly.

Breaking a man’s nose in a club out of jealousy, showing up armed at a hospital, and firing into the floor—these are not minor outbursts, not youthful mistakes, not mere lapses in judgment.

They are patterns of behavior that reflect impulsivity, loss of control, and an inability to measure consequences.

In any walk of life, that’s serious.

In professional sports, where every gesture is scrutinized and emulated by millions, it’s even more alarming.

The Turkish justice system gave him a way out: a suspended sentence, provided he stayed clean for five years.

And here, the story takes a turn no one expected.

Because Arda Turan could have disappeared, could have hidden in the shadows of scandal like so many other fallen footballers.

But he chose a different path: coaching.

When he took over modest Eyüpspor in 2023, far from the limelight, it seemed a minor step.

But what he accomplished there deserves recognition.

In April 2024, he secured promotion to the Turkish Super League with five games to spare.

This is no footnote—it means he not only delivered, but excelled.

At least as a coach, Arda found a new way to channel the intensity that once led him astray.

But let’s return to Messi, because this story, in a way, is about him too.

Messi represents a figure many envy: sustained success, humility, zero off-field scandals.

Turan, in contrast, embodies fragility—the human side of the player who breaks, who can’t handle the pressure, who, instead of turning his inner fire into greatness, lets it consume him.

And so, an inevitable reflection arises: How much does character influence a career? Both had talent, that’s clear.

But while Messi turned his into a legacy, Turan rode a rollercoaster.

Perhaps it’s unfair to compare lives—each is unique.

But football, like any global spectacle, thrives on comparisons, on parallels, on intersecting stories.

Today, Arda Turan is head coach of a first-division team with a solid record.

That’s no small feat, but the contrast is impossible to ignore.

While Messi remains a global star, lifting trophies and lighting up stadiums worldwide, Arda fights in a local league that rarely makes international headlines.

Both wore the same shirt, shared training sessions and conversations, but in the end, each chose a path—and those paths could not be more different.

Football, like life, has room for redemption.

But those redemptions never erase what happened.

The best Arda Turan can do is try to clear his name, or at least build something new—something that defines him as a coach, as a leader.

The past, for better or worse, is already written.

This leaves an open question that goes beyond Turan and Messi: How willing are fans, clubs, and the football industry at large to forgive their fallen idols? Are we able to value second chances, or are we forever trapped in the shadow of scandal? That’s the real mystery, and perhaps the real challenge for Arda Turan.

It’s curious, isn’t it? While Messi continues to shine in Inter Miami, collecting Ballon d’Ors and global applause, Arda Turan—the former teammate who once wore the same shirt—is trying to build his own redemption far from the big stage, in a corner of Turkish football.

And so, the story of Arda Turan is more than just a cautionary tale.

It’s a reminder that the line between glory and disgrace is thin, that talent alone is never enough, and that even the brightest stars can stumble.

It’s a story about the power—and the limits—of second chances, and about the enduring human need to seek redemption, no matter how far one has fallen.

Will Arda Turan ever be an international figure again, this time as a coach? Only time will tell.

For now, his journey serves as a complex, compelling chapter in the ongoing story of football—and of life itself.