Despite repeated promises of ushering in a new generation, Iran national team head coach Amir Ghalenoei continues to sidestep meaningful reform—opting instead for symbolic gestures that give the illusion of change while clinging to the same aging core.
Ghalenoei’s public rhetoric has, for months, championed a “youth movement,” but the reality on the pitch tells a different story. While younger players have appeared on preliminary call-up lists, they are often omitted from final squads in favor of familiar veterans—regardless of form or fitness. This duplicity has not gone unnoticed by fans or players.
The growing frustration recently came to a head with the high-profile absence of Mehdi Torabi. The in-form midfielder refused to accept his latest call-up, reportedly disillusioned by what he and others see as a pattern of favoritism and empty words. Torabi has been outspoken about the hypocrisy of a coach who claims to value youth and meritocracy, yet repeatedly sidelines deserving players in favor of those entrenched in the system.
Iran’s average squad age at the 2022 World Cup was 28.9—the oldest among all participating nations. That figure barely budged in AFC Asian Cup 2023, with the average only falling to 28.6 under Ghalenoei. This stagnation has sparked increasing calls for a generational overhaul, particularly following Iran’s qualification for the 2026 World Cup after the 2-2 draw against Uzbekistan.
In the aftermath of that match, Ghalenoei assured fans change was imminent:
“From now on, there will be more time for young players. I promise to give them more opportunities. But it has to be done in a way that ensures they remain part of the team for years to come.”
Yet, just weeks later, his tone shifted. Speaking at a national team training session on Monday, Ghalenoei walked back his earlier commitments:
“These two games (Qatar and North Korea) are very important for us… their results affect our ranking and seeding. The youth trend has started since we arrived. Whoever is worthy and the best at the time will be selected.”
Such statements have become increasingly hollow to a public that sees little evidence of change. Critics argue that Ghalenoei is merely paying lip service to the idea of generational renewal while continuing to rely on the same old faces—many of whom are well past their prime.
After Iran’s controversial performance against North Korea and Kyrgyzstan, criticism of Ghalenoei’s tactics and team selection intensified. His response was deflective and combative:
“They don’t love Iran; they love their own interests.”
But it’s not criticism for criticism’s sake. Fans are demanding accountability, transparency, and a future-focused approach. The superficial rotation of a few younger names in training camps—without meaningful match time—is increasingly viewed as a deliberate tactic to pacify public opinion while avoiding real change.
With the upcoming fixtures against Qatar and North Korea looming, the question remains: Will Ghalenoei finally back his words with actions, or will Iran’s national team continue to drift under the weight of broken promises and aging legs?
The clock is ticking—not just for Iran’s next generation of footballers, but for the credibility of its national team’s leadership.
