After we won the Bundesliga in 2011, I got a text from my agent:
“Hey Nuri, Real Madrid wants you.”
It’s kind of funny that it just happened like that. Through a text. It wasn’t like you imagine when you’re a kid.
I had heard my name mentioned in transfer rumors before, but never with Real Madrid. And now, here they were. The white kits, the Bernabéu, the history. And I remembered the promise that I’d made to myself all those years ago. There was a part of me that wanted to say no. Dortmund had given me so much — how could I leave them? It was hard to think about. I lost sleep. I talked for hours with my wife and family. But I had to speak with Dortmund’s manager, Jürgen Klopp, before I could decide. I will remember our conversation forever.
“Nuri, it is your choice,” he told me. “But if you leave, you must know, I will always be on your side. You are my friend forever.”
“If I stay,” I said, “I will think about life in Madrid. I will be in Dortmund physically, but mentally … I’ll be lost. I couldn’t live like that.” And I told him that I only had one life to live — that I didn’t want to regret any part of it.
Jürgen understood, and he told me to follow my heart.
A few hours later, I announced my decision. My wife, who was four months pregnant, moved with me to Madrid. We had to start over, sort of. I spoke Spanish, but we had to figure out being pregnant in a foreign country. And then I got hurt in my first training session with Madrid — life in Spain did not get off to a great start.
From pitch level, you can’t even see where it ends. It’s just … yellow, as far as the eye can see. It’s the greatest sight in sports.
In September 2011 our son arrived. He was perfect. And I was so thankful to be a father. My mom and mother-in-law flew down to be with us, and while they were there I kind of realized how much I missed home. Dortmund wasn’t just a club or city, it was where the most important people in my life were.
I tried to recover from injury as quickly as I could, but at when a club like Madrid is winning and playing well it can be very tough to get back in the team. I was out for six months, and when I was getting close to coming back, Dortmund called and asked if I wanted to come back. I hadn’t come to Madrid to quit. I went on loan to Liverpool to try to get back to the level I knew I could play at.
In England, I felt even further from home. I wasn’t playing well — something was missing from my game. I couldn’t really figure it out. But then it sort of dawned on me: I wasn’t missing something from my game, I was missing something from my life. I needed to be part of the family at Dortmund again. The people there are the reason I played football like I do.
My agent made some calls, and a few weeks later I was on my way back home.
I wasn’t sure how the Yellow Wall would receive me when I came back. It had hurt them when I left, I knew that. I was a substitute in my first match back. I was warming up on the sidelines, and right before I was going to head onto the pitch, Jürgen called me over:
“Nuri … close your eyes. Can you hear that?”
I turned to the Yellow Wall and closed my eyes. They were singing my name.
“I really thought they were going to hate you,” Jürgen said. And then he let out his classic booming laugh. He messed up my hair, pushed me out onto the pitch and the crowd erupted.
That bond that I have with the people of Dortmund will never be broken. I know that now.
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