On All Fronts in Ukraine

Original article from France Football, published in 2023.

He hasn't lost his frenetic, ecstatic goal celebration. Long before Karim Benzema's famous declaration, Belanov had already made his Ballon d'Or an award for the people. "I try to show it as much as possible, especially to children," he says. The trophy's magnetism works its magic every time, across all corners of Ukraine, and its significance has only grown since the Russian invasion. Belanov has taken on the role of a pilgrim, carrying his golden prize into the trenches to motivate troops and donning military attire.

As an ambassador for the Ukrainian Football Association, he delivers humanitarian aid, including medicine and food, while focusing on legacy and passing on his experience. "There is a social function," a UAF official emphasizes.

A Mentor in Tears

Belanov's career would never again reach such a peak. A planned move to Atalanta fell through in 1988, followed by a transfer to Mönchengladbach in 1989 and his final cap for the Soviet team in 1990. "Businessmen intervened when I was supposed to join Bergamo, and the Soviet sports machine, in exchange for foreign currency, ultimately sent me to a team that wasn't a top contender," he recalls. "We had no say in the matter. And I earned almost nothing. Everything went into the pockets of officials in Moscow. Except at the end of my career, thanks to small arrangements—let's call it optimization."

Nothing clicked for him in Germany. "The people weren't communicative, the rules were strict, the language was difficult. Everything was against me and felt foreign. I could have reached my full potential in Italy, where I would have had a completely different level of exposure." He left the club with his reputation tarnished by a murky incident involving clothes stolen from a store by Soviet acquaintances. He didn't leave the country, however, instead dropping down to a lower division to play for Braunschweig.

His football was shaped by Valeri Lobanovskyi—"a second father, he had a gift for finding the right approach for every player"—the architect of Dynamo Kyiv and later the national team. "He wanted me as early as 1983. Dynamo was a world-class team. But I wasn't strong enough yet. I refused and stayed at Chornomorets Odesa for two more years." Belanov pulls out a photo of his mentor, in tears in his arms, during his own farewell match. "Young footballers need to see this. The coach-player relationship is fundamental; it creates very powerful emotions."

It also helped him secure housing. "The apartments belonged to the state. One day, I went to him and said, 'Valeri Vasylyovych, I've been working hard for two years. I have a wife and a child (named Valeri, in his honor).' He replied, 'If you score two goals against Rapid Vienna, you'll get one.' You can imagine I flew across the pitch like lightning that day!"

A Product of the Soviet Era

His story reflects the ambivalence of the Soviet period. "We had no rights or freedoms. And an athlete got nothing in return at the end of their career. It was an unjust system. But life was good. We young people had no basis for comparison. We played for honor; football didn't involve as much money as it does now. In the USSR, people weren't divided by nationality or republic. We all lived in one big country and represented a very competitive team that was hard to break into. If fans remember a goal and talk about its beauty thirty years later, then we didn't do it all for nothing."

His childhood, however, brings back fewer happy memories. The Moldavanka district of Odesa was so rough that it even intimidated another Ballon d'Or winner, Hristo Stoichkov, who visited years later. "He wanted to see where I grew up. That neighborhood was like something out of a movie. I was around gangsterism and crime. I had to deal with those people, learn to live with them but not become one of them. Some ended up on drugs, others in prison. Football was a stimulus, a way for me to rise above it."

When he was 16, his father—"a living encyclopedia of football"—was killed in a motorcycle accident. "It's the tragedy of my life. I was left alone with my mother. Everything rested on me. I became the head of the family and had to work, including as a stonemason building balconies. At the same time, I trained every day. I wanted my father to see, from the heavens, the heights I had reached. I regret so much that he didn't live to see his son become the best footballer in the world."

Ukrainian football legends like Oleg Protasov, Oleksiy Mykhailichenko, Anatoliy Demyanenko, and 1975 Ballon d'Or winner Oleg Blokhin have become symbols of national pride. "They show the people that they have legends to admire," one observer noted. Igor Belanov, another of these icons, is actively involved in boosting morale on the front lines.

"Look, I was on the front line in Mykolaiv," Belanov says, scrolling through photos on his phone. "I wanted to help the guys relax a bit. Here I am with soldiers in Kherson, under a bridge. And here, I went to visit the air defense units. It's very important to give them a few minutes of your time. These people defending our country could die at any moment."

The sight of the national hero and his gleaming Ballon d'Or trophy often brings a spark to their eyes. "I'm happy if it lifts their spirits," he adds. "They can switch off their brains for a few minutes and escape the horror of war."

When he isn't visiting troops, Belanov manages a thriving family steel business. He briefly entered politics in the 1990s with the goal of helping his local community but grew disillusioned with colleagues he felt were focused on personal enrichment. He left what he calls the "thankless" world of politics, tired of the constant criticism. His post-playing career included a successful stint as a player-coach at Metalurh Mariupol, leading the club from the third to the first division in just two years. A subsequent takeover of Swiss club FC Wil in 2003 was less successful; despite winning a Swiss Cup, he alienated fans and partners before disengaging from the project.

A patriot and a member of a territorial defense unit, Belanov remains deeply devoted to his hometown of Odesa. "It's my city, the best city on earth, the maritime capital of Ukraine, a pearl on the Black Sea," he declares. "I wouldn't leave it for anything. I breathe freely here. And even if the war comes, I will stay until the very end. I'm from the south; we love open spaces, communication, and humor." He finds a connection with nature through hunting and fishing, reflecting, "How wonderful it is to sit with a fishing rod, to think, to reflect, to feel the wind while sailing on a boat."

While he avoids large crowds, Belanov enjoys interacting with small groups "where everyone looks out for one another. Nothing can replace human interaction." He runs a foundation and, since 1999, has operated the Blokhin-Belanov football school in Odesa. The children adore him, lining up to see his Ballon d'Or. "Do they know who I am? Of course," he says, before sharing a funny story. "Except for one time, which was an embarrassing moment. A cheerful little kid was waiting patiently. It turned out he thought he was about to meet his idol, Dima Bilan (a Russian singer)."

An Enduring Ukrainian Hope

Belanov never turns down a request for a photo or a conversation. "I'm old school, I have values, I'm not a snob. Putting on a show isn't my thing," he explains. In Chisinau, at the birthday reception for the Moldovan Football Federation's vice-president, Dragos Hincu, he graciously posed for a stream of selfies, photos, and autographs. Mingling with guests over wine and local delicacies, he connected with the "deeply good and hospitable people" and proudly displayed his coveted Ballon d'Or. "I'm certainly not going to hide it," he remarked. Late into the night, he continued to share anecdotes in Russian, promising one last toast—"Nakanets!"—that inevitably led to another.

Soon, it was time for him to return home via the Palanca-Maiaky-Udobne border crossing over the Dniester River, the only passage between Moldova and Ukraine outside of pro-Russian Transnistria. The reality awaiting him is grim, with Iranian drones and missiles targeting civilians in western Ukraine. Yet, the nomadic hero offers a final note of optimism: "Thanks to the Ballon d'Or, I see sparks in their eyes, I read joy on the children's lips. Such emotions prolong my life."