Edin Dzeko: The Heart of Bosnia-Herzegovina’s Team

Edin Dzeko, it seems, is doomed to always be underrated. There is a strange quality about him so that, when things go wrong, it looks terrible. Perhaps it’s something to do with his size or gait, an awkwardness that lends an air of suspicion that he’s not quite good enough. Had Roberto Mancini stayed on as manager, Dzeko probably would have left Manchester City—yet this season he has been vital in the title run-in. His aim now is to carry that form into the World Cup.

It was no secret that Dzeko and Mancini didn’t get on. Manager Manuel Pellegrini, it’s said, had to persuade him that there was still a place for him at the Etihad Stadium despite the signing of two high-profile forwards last summer. Dzeko’s opportunities early in the season were limited, but when City needed him, he responded magnificently.


He scored nine goals in the last 11 games of the season, including five in the three matches before Sunday’s final game—scoring doubles against Aston Villa and Everton and settling what could have been awkward games. It was fitting that it was his knockdown that led to captain Vincent Kompany settling the May 11th win over West Ham United and so sealing the title.

Historically Pellegrini has tended to favor a target-man figure, and Dzeko’s physicality has meant there is always another option to complement the neat passing. “The kind of player he is, he's not just a goal-scorer,” said the Chelsea manager Jose Mourinho, who is not one to hand out praise lightly. “He assists, he plays, he behaves, he's fair, doesn't dive, doesn't try to put opponents in the stands with an accumulation of cards. He was the third-choice striker at the beginning of the season. He was hidden behind his manager's first choices and when the team needed him in crucial moments of the season, I think he made the difference.”



Tellingly, Mourinho’s words highlighted not only Dzeko’s abilities as a player, but also his human qualities. For Bosnia, he is the heart of the team, not just because he is the highest-profile player but for those morale qualities– and also, perhaps, because in this team of the diaspora, of players who, because of the war grew up in Germany, Switzerland, Luxembourg and Canada, he stayed at home, a typical child of Sarajevo. “I was six when the war started,” he said. “It was terrible. My house was destroyed so we went to live with my grandparents. The whole family was there, maybe 15 people all staying in an apartment about 35 meters square. It was very hard. We were stressed every day in case somebody we knew died.”



Football seemed a world away. “A lot of footballers start to play by kicking a ball around in the street but for me that was impossible,” he said. “But when the war finished I was much stronger, mentally. After the war I played with my friends in the streets, at school, then my father took me to Zeljeznicar.” Their stadium lay on the front line and when the siege was finally lifted, the first thing players and officials had to do was to clear the pitch of mines.

There have been suggestions recently that Dzeko has become more distant—Bosnian journalists have complained that he has stopped returning their calls, although that may be a necessary side effect of completing a big transfer—but he has a reputation for being hospitable and down to earth, as you’d probably expect for somebody who, until they were 20 years old, was regarded as a bit of a joke.

The Rise of “Kloc”



When Czech Republic team Teplice offered the Sarajevo team Zeljeznicar 25,000 euros (US$34,245) for Dzeko in 2005, the Bosnian club’s hierarchy thought the sum so preposterous that they broke out the champagne. “We thought we’d won the lottery,” one director
admitted. Back then, Bosnian football didn’t really understand Dzeko. He was lanky and clumsy and, frankly, looked “a bit English,” as that same director put it. Even within the former Yugoslavia, where technical ability is prized more than anywhere else in Europe, Bosnian players have a reputation for being skilful dribblers, and Dzeko wasn’t that.

By the standards of an English target-man, Dzeko has a fine first touch; in Bosnia, though, he was a figure of fun, and picked up the nickname “Kloc"—the local slang term for a lamppost or the pole that holds up a street-sign. Fortunately a visiting Czech coach liked what he saw, and recommended him to Teplice. Two successful years later, Dzeko was being sold to Wolfsburg for a little over £4million (US$ 6.73million).

Dzeko is a fine header, holds the play up well, but he also has surprising pace (although Sir Alex Ferguson apparently didn’t pursue an interest because he thought him too slow off the mark) and, as a record of 58 goals and 31 assists over two and a half seasons at
Wolfsburg and 46 goals and nine assists over three and a half at City suggests, he can both finish and create. There are times when his confidence dips and his skill for strong finishes deserts him but, given a run in the team, he probably offers a greater range of abilities than any other forward in the Premier League.



I first met him shortly before Bosnia’s World Cup qualifier against Turkey in 2009, when he was the major star of a team that was threatening an unlikely qualification for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. We’d been chatting on the terrace of the team hotel for a few minutes when he was called away by the press officer. Given that most footballers will take any opportunity to avoid talking to journalists, I didn’t really expect him to return, but about quarter of an hour later he came back. “Sorry about that,” he said. “The prime minister turned up and I had to have my picture taken with him.”



Perhaps he simply saw his future in the Premier League and recognized the benefit of trying to raise his profile by talking to the English press. But a Sarajevo journalist tells the story of having gone to Germany a couple of years ago to do a piece on the two Bosnian players at Hoffenheim. On his way back, he and his photographer made a snap decision to drive to Wolfsburg to see Dzeko. Not only did he agree to a lengthy interview late that evening, but having tried to book them into a hotel and discovered that a VW conference meant there were no beds to be had anywhere in the vicinity, he gave them the keys to his flat and went to stay with his girlfriend. The following morning, the journalist took a panicked call on his phone. It was Dzeko apologizing for having forgotten to tell them where the fresh coffee was kept.

He is a fine player but, increasingly rarely among footballers, Dzeko is a considerate man with a sense of social responsibilities. It’s tempting to suggest this is all the more impressive given his centrality to Bosnia’s achievements, but perhaps the truth is that it’s because of this that he is so central to Bosnia’s achievements. Dzeko is a very fine footballer, but he is also very aware of the world beyond football.