Usually, we’re excited when a job opportunity in sport psychology comes our way, right? Positions are limited, competition is tough, and we spend a lot of time thinking about how to land that next opportunity—how to impress the right people, convince the decision-makers, and secure that position.

But have you ever asked yourself: What would need to happen for me to quit working for a club or federation?

I believe this question is just as important as figuring out where to find the next job or how to navigate career opportunities. Because at the end of the day, our work isn’t just about getting a job—it’s about standing by our values.

Let me share a quick story, and I’d love for you to reflect on it with me.

Two weeks ago, in Cologne, there was a match against Fortuna Düsseldorf—a derby, as they call it.

In German football stadiums, it’s common for fans to create elaborate pre-match choreographies. Hardcore supporters dedicate time, effort, and I’m sure a good amount of money to design large-scale visuals that fill the stadium with their message. Some of these choreographies are truly impressive. And some leave me absolutely speechless.

This time, it was the latter.

The supporters chose to display an image of the Joker (from the DC universe), wearing an FC Köln tie, holding a knife to the throat of the goddess Fortuna (you can see the image ​here​). My first thought? Is this really the kind of football culture fans want?

I could have focused entirely on the image itself and what it says about football culture. But honestly, the image wasn’t even the worst part.

What shocked me the most—what still shocks me—is that Dr. Christian Keller, Managing Director of Sport for 1. FC Köln, along with the club, was aware of this depiction and approved it. He defended it, saying:

“We didn’t see anything discriminatory in the image, nor any incitement to violence.”

And:

“You can debate the image. For me, it represents the rivalry between two active fan scenes, which is normal in this culture. Whether the average spectator likes it or not is another matter.”

I can’t wrap my head around this. What does a violent threat have to do with ‘culture’? What kind of society have we become if threatening and glorifying violence is just considered part of the game?

Some might argue, “But Christian, no one is actually being hurt in the image.”

Technically, that’s true. But we live in a time when we constantly hear about stabbings, violent attacks, and acts of aggression in public spaces. Threats—whether visual, verbal, or physical—are no small thing.

And let’s not forget the real-world consequences of this football culture. That night, police had to work for more than 12 hours to ensure safety inside and outside the stadium. And even then, they couldn’t prevent all harm—a bystander suffered a head wound from a thrown beer cup.

So I ask again—what kind of culture is this? What kind of society are we living in?

For me, this situation—and especially the response from the club’s leadership—made me so angry that I couldn’t help but wonder: How can anyone still work for an organization that blatantly ignores the reality we live in?

At the same time, I also recognize that clubs operate under complex pressures—from fans, sponsors, and league dynamics. Leadership has to navigate difficult trade-offs, and I don’t believe that everyone involved is intentionally supporting violence. But at some point, we have to ask where the line is.

Years ago, I worked for this club myself. After three years, I left—because it no longer aligned with my values. And two weeks ago, I was reminded once again why that was the right decision.

I know it’s not always easy to turn down a job, to walk away from a paycheck. But at some point, we all have to ask ourselves: What do I want to be known for?

Many people enter football because that’s where the money is. But is money really worth compromising our own moral values—and the greater ethical standards of our society?

As frustrating as this situation was (and still is, even as I write this), it also gave me the chance to reaffirm my values. It made me reflect—once again—on what truly matters to me in my work, whether in sport psychology or beyond.

Now, I’d like to ask you: When you see that image of the choreography, what do you think? How do you feel? If you imagine working for this club, how would you respond? Would you respond at all? Why or why not?

I’m not here to tell you what to do in such a situation-not at all! My only hope is to spark reflection—to encourage you to think about your values and how they influence your decisions. Because when we are clear on our values, we can make informed choices—even in difficult situations—and navigate challenges with integrity.

When I revisit the question I posed at the beginning—What would need to happen for me to quit working for a club or federation?—I now have a clear answer.

If I were still working for this club, I would resign after hearing this statement from the Managing Director of Sport. Because this response doesn’t just reflect one individual’s opinion—it represents the perspective and possibly even the philosophy of the club itself. And I simply could not work for an organization that stands for this.

Because this is not what I stand for.

What do you stand for?