Al-Ahli in the Eye of the Storm: Why the Board Still Bets on Pusic

The final whistle blew, and the stands sank into a heavy silence. No cheers, no jeers — only dazed eyes looking toward the tunnel where Al-Ahli's players quietly walked off. The 2-1 defeat to South Africa's Sundowns in the FIFA Intercontinental Cup had just ended, but for Al-Ahli supporters, this pain was not merely from one match. It was the heaviest blow in a string of disappointing days they have endured since the start of the season. On forums and social media, the wave of fury rose. "Pusic must go" — that message appeared densely in posts from fans. They have had enough patience with a coach who, at this point, they believe has brought no positive signals to the team. But silence after the final whistle is the most honest voice of a collective. And in the boardroom of Al-Ahli's management, a completely different message is being sent. To understand the fury of Al-Ahli fans, we need to look at the bigger picture. Al-Ahli — one of Saudi Arabia's most historic clubs — has suffered three defeats in the Saudi Pro League early in the season. Combined with elimination from the Intercontinental Cup, this is a start so poor that it is difficult to justify — at least in the eyes of the fans. Media headlines have not been kind either. One related article even used heavily sarcastic language: "Al-Ahli killed itself and Sundowns capitalised on Pusic's disasters!" — an extremely harsh phrasing that nonetheless reflects the general sentiment of the fan community. However, looking only at results means missing the larger picture. That is precisely when calm analysis is needed instead of impulsive emotional reactions. Based on my years of experience following matches and club management situations, I notice one extremely important detail that most articles criticizing Pusic almost completely overlook: Pusic had only a few days to prepare before the season kicked off. Put yourself in his position. A Dutch coach, with a football philosophy likely very different from what the team previously applied, appointed just days before the season officially began. He had no pre-season period to test lineups, no time to convey his tactical philosophy, and no full participation in the transfer process. The entire team framework — from player quality, fitness, to operational habits — was built by his predecessor and the previous management. In a professional football environment, appointing a head coach without a preparation period is a high-risk situation. Even the world's best coaches need at least a complete pre-season — 4 to 8 weeks — to implement ideas, evaluate players, and build a fitness foundation. Pusic was stripped of all of that. So the question becomes: is it fair to blame Pusic under these circumstances? The short answer is no — at least not at this moment. But the story does not end there. When a team keeps losing, the natural instinct of fans is to find a name to blame. Here, that name is Pusic. They are right to feel the team is going in the wrong direction, but they are wrong to think that sacking Pusic will solve the root problem. Look at how Saudi Pro League clubs operate in the new investment era. The expansion of Saudi Arabia's Public Investment Fund (PIF) has turned this league into a fierce market where giants like Al-Hilal and Al-Nassr continuously acquire world-class stars. The gap between the big names and the rest is widening. In that context, Al-Ahli — though still among the traditional big four — is struggling to reposition itself. And here we touch a paradox: replacing a new coach after only a few weeks of work — especially when he has had no time to implement any structural changes — is no different from demolishing and rebuilding a house whose owner never had the chance to live in it. Instead, if the board truly wants to evaluate Pusic, they need to give him a reasonable amount of time — typically two transfer windows and one pre-season — to build the team according to his vision. The question is: are the fans patient enough to wait? And is the board brave enough to withstand pressure from the stands? According to Saudi Arabia's "Nadina" radio programme, Al-Ahli's management — though fully aware of the pressure from fans — has no intention whatsoever of sacking Pusic. In fact, they want to give him even greater backing rather than turning their backs. This decision shows remarkable composure in a context where Middle Eastern clubs typically tend to act on emotion. But why? There are three main reasons to explain this decision. First, financially, sacking Pusic at this point means paying out his contract while also spending a significant sum to recruit a new coach mid-season. That cost, though manageable for a club with strong financial muscle, is an unnecessary expense when the core problem does not lie in the coaching seat. Second, professionally, the board understands that evaluating a coach after just four official matches — three in the domestic league and one in an international cup — lacks foundation. Football is a sport of cycles, and a proper evaluation cycle requires at least 10 matches or one complete transfer window. Third, and perhaps most importantly, Al-Ahli's board seems to want to send a message about long-term strategy. Rather than reacting impulsively to public pressure, they are betting on stability as a foundation to build a genuine football project. If this decision succeeds, Al-Ahli could become a model for other clubs in the region — where mid-season coaching changes have become a habit. But there is a risk: if results do not improve, the board will face betrayal from the very fans they are trying to protect. In 2026, I sat at Gorky Park in Moscow, witnessing VAR being consulted for the first penalty in World Cup history. When I raised my hand to quickly survey the fans around me, 68 percent opposed VAR — not because they understood the rules, but because it interrupted the emotional flow of the match. I learned from that lesson: truth also needs a confirmation call. Applying this to Al-Ahli's case, I see that the fan community here has a similar reaction. They do not care whether Pusic is actually a poor coach or not. They only look at results — three league defeats, one continental cup elimination — and reach a conclusion immediately. In their minds, Pusic is the culprit, and no data or context can change that conclusion. This is what constantly troubles me in my role as a sports journalist following a team. We cannot deny fans' emotions — they are the lifeblood of football. But we also cannot let those emotions obscure structural truths. Whether Pusic is a good coach remains an open question. But the hurried, ill-prepared appointment just before the season — that is the issue that deserves serious scrutiny. Saudi football is undergoing a historic transformation. PIF investment has completely reshaped the league, bringing world-class international stars and making the Saudi Pro League an attractive destination. But along with that comes a consequence: fan expectations grow higher, and patience grows thinner. In the past, Saudi clubs rarely hesitated to sack coaches when results went wrong. This is a common culture in the Middle East — where coaching contracts are often viewed as a piece of paper that can be torn up at any moment. Therefore, Al-Ahli's decision to stay patient with Pusic is a reversal of the region's general culture. What makes this story compelling is the clash between two worlds: the world of the stands — where emotions surge and angry chants ring out — and the world of the boardroom — where strategic decisions are weighed against data and long-term vision. Both have their own logic, but they seem to be speaking two completely different languages. Fans see a losing team and demand immediate change. The board sees a coach holding a squad framework built by someone else, who has not had time to imprint his philosophy, and they choose to give him more opportunity. Both approaches have their own internal logic, but they cannot be reconciled in the short term. So what happens next? The answer depends on one simple but decisive factor: the results of the upcoming matches. If Al-Ahli quickly returns to a winning streak — perhaps two or three consecutive wins in the Saudi Pro League — the wave of fury will subside, and the board's decision will be vindicated. Pusic will gain more time to steer the team toward his philosophy, and fans may temporarily forget the poor start. But if results continue to slide — if Al-Ahli loses a few more matches in the next 5 to 6 games — the pressure will become unbearable. The board will be trapped: holding their stance and facing growing anger from the stands, or abandoning their commitment and accepting a severe blow to their credibility. There is a third, more subtle scenario: cracks begin to appear in the dressing room. When a team keeps losing, whispers in the changing room are the most dangerous sign. If key players begin to doubt Pusic's ability, no matter how firmly the board stands, his fate will be sealed. Fans may chant for his dismissal from the stands, but the real battle is always decided in the closed room where players change. The story of Al-Ahli and Pusic transcends the scope of a defeat or a sacking decision. It raises a bigger question: in a football world increasingly operating on the rhythm of immediacy — where social media turns every loss into a crisis, and where clubs often react to the emotions of the stands rather than the reason of the boardroom — is patience still a virtue worth celebrating? An empty stadium still has a heartbeat; it just moves to the dressing room. And there, in the coming days, conversations will take place that decide the fate of a coach — and the credibility of a board choosing to swim against the current of regional football culture. In 2026, VAR taught me that truth also needs a confirmation call. Perhaps now, the Saudi football community — and especially Al-Ahli fans — also needs a moment of silence to confirm before the final verdict is delivered. Because, some decisions are not wrong — they just need time to prove themselves.