Despite Romania’s national team suffering a heavy 0-6 defeat against Poland in Warsaw, life will go on for most Romanians. However, for Gheorghe Hagi, the country’s football legend, this loss signifies a turning point.
After the match, Hagi was candid about his feelings, stating, “Right now, I feel pain; I regret that this happened, it’s a great sorrow. But what’s important is that we need to reflect on our path, we must change things and do better. I’m sorry; it’s painful. This is a lesson for me, I will learn, so I can improve tomorrow.”
While many may be quick to criticize Hagi, if given the chance, I would remind him of the resilience shown by the team that defeated us, a group that knows how to rise after being thoroughly beaten.
Lessons from Viktor Frankl
Viktor Frankl, the Viennese psychiatrist who was deported by the Nazis, endured unimaginable suffering during his time in concentration camps, including Auschwitz. He lost almost his entire family but survived to author one of the most significant books of the 20th century, “Man’s Search for Meaning.”
Frankl noted that those who survived did not necessarily possess physical strength but rather had a purpose—a reason to look forward to the next day: a child to reunite with, a book to complete, a duty to fulfill. He often quoted Nietzsche: “He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.”
Mr. Hagi, you have your own why: Romania. You have expressed it countless times. You returned, at 61 years old, already a part of history, to a national team in its weakest moment.
While many with a reputation might have distanced themselves during such challenging times, you chose to step forward. The score from last night is just one aspect of the journey.
Frankl remarked that what matters is not what we expect from life, but what life expects from us. Last night, life expected a response from you, and you answered: “I will learn.”
This attitude reflects what Frankl termed “tragic optimism”—the ability to affirm life despite pain, guilt, and loss. It’s not the naive optimism you may have held prior to this campaign.
This is the optimism of someone who understands that it will be painful yet chooses to move forward anyway. That’s what I heard last night.
Dąbrowski’s Perspective on Crisis
Poland has also given the world Kazimierz Dąbrowski, a psychologist largely unknown in Romania. He lived through war and later communism, developing a theory called “positive disintegration.”
His premise, though unpopular today amid discussions of trauma and anxiety, posits that suffering, internal conflict, and existential crises are essential for personal growth. To build a better version of oneself, sometimes the old structure must fall apart.
Dąbrowski believed that truly great individuals are not those who have avoided crises but those who have learned to reconstruct themselves from them.
Mr. Hagi, you were a remarkable player and a two-time champion as a coach. Perhaps this recent setback was necessary to shed the shadow of your past successes and rebuild yourself as a national team coach.
Cleaning Up After the Storm
In recent discussions about Polish literature with writer Teodor Ajder, I discovered Wisława Szymborska, the Nobel Prize-winning poet, who wrote a poem titled “End and Beginning.”
Her central idea is straightforward: after every war, someone has to clean up. The rubble doesn’t clear itself, and those who do the cleaning do not appear in photos with the heroes.
This is perhaps the most challenging truth you accepted when coming to the national team. You are not here to reap the rewards of a golden generation but to clear away the debris from a difficult period, to rebuild brick by brick. It is a task often unnoticed and without immediate applause, but essential for any construction to begin.
Warsaw: A City Rising from the Ashes
The poem does not mention a specific city, yet it could easily be interpreted as about Warsaw. You lost 0-6 in a city that faced its own struggles, having seen the Warsaw Uprising capitulate on October 2, 1944.
By the end of the war, 84% of the city’s buildings were destroyed or damaged. The communist authorities considered moving the capital to Łódź, leaving the ruins as a memorial. Yet, the people returned and began clearing the rubble by hand.
Architects rebuilt the Old Town based on Canaletto’s paintings, brick by brick. Today, it is a UNESCO World Heritage site. The stadium where you faced humiliation last night literally stands on the ruins of that city.
The Polish have never forgotten their ruins, but they have not stopped there. If you could take away something from Warsaw, don’t carry the score; take the spirit of the city—a place erased from maps that found its reason to exist again amid the ruins.
