Characters

The last watchmaker in Kadıköy. The hundreds of clocks in his shop all show different times; “they’re all right,” he says.

The gym’s only woman boxer and its hungriest. A hospital secretary by day, she pounds the bag by night.

The team captain. No armband, but everyone listens to her; she writes the line-up in her own notebook.

Your next-door neighbour. Her mantı is legendary; she feeds the pigeons and hears every rumour.

He was the star of the Betonya Boxing Team: sixteen wins and a chip at his temple. He didn’t fight to win; he fought to be “efficient”.

The barista who owns Kuzey Coffee. Coffee by day, open mic by night: poems, guitar, sometimes just confessions.

Your manager: sharp suit, fast talk, believes everything has a price.

The neighbourhood barber. His father opened the shop in 1962 and the scissors haven’t stopped since.

Forty years a freighter captain; now he coaches rowing at Kalamış and runs sunset trips on his boat, the Martı.

The pitch’s owner. He writes bookings in a squared notebook and lets no one on the pitch before the tea has brewed.

Chef at the Seaside Restaurant who wants fish as fresh as the hour it was caught.

The goalkeeper coach. She kept goal for the under-19 national team until a shoulder injury ended her career early.

The neighbourhood’s boxing coach. In 1979 he couldn’t afford the European Championships, so he opened the gym instead.

Head coach of the Elite Academy and a Rio Olympic quarterfinalist.

A retired PE teacher. He has coached the Karanfil Stars for free for ten years; the whistle never leaves his neck.

The street artist who paints Kadıköy’s walls. Her surname is Yıldız; her tag is a little star.

The Elite Academy’s youngest talent. Listens to no one except you.

The striker. He does the same dance after every goal; he never counts the ones he misses.

A physicist. She spent seven years on Betonya’s secret “Project Kronos”; one night she resigned and moved into the old observatory on the hill.

The state hospital’s ER doctor. She can’t stand boxers, yet patches up every one.

The Business professor. Her father’s bakery went bust when she was twelve; that’s where she learned profit isn’t cash.

Owner of Mürekkep Tattoo. She quit fine art in her final year and chose the needle; half the neighbourhood wears her lines.

Uncle Hüsnü’s nine-year-old grandson. A kid called Can won’t leave him alone at school.

The site foreman. He’s been putting up this city’s buildings for thirty years.

88, the ward’s longest stay since his hip surgery. Balkan champion in 1956.

Runs the courier depot with military discipline and raises two kids alone.

A retired heavyweight who helps Tekin at the shop and teaches kids timing.

The lighthouse’s last keeper. For forty years he has lit the lamp every night and logged the wind and the ships.

The Shipyard Arena’s ring announcer, with a voice that lifts the roof.

The building’s doorman. He leaves your bread at the door each morning and knows who came home when — but only tells if asked.

The garden’s simit seller. Students call him ‘the real rector’.

Headman of the neighbourhood for twenty-two years. Knows what’s cooking in every house.

A projectionist for fifty years. First at Karanfil’s open-air cinema, then, when Betonya knocked it down, here in Moda.

For thirty years the neighbourhood’s night hero: the Iron Eagle. His knees no longer obey and retirement is days away.

The gym’s heavyweight joker. 118 kilos with a heart like cotton; a nightclub bouncer after dark.

Runs his late father’s döner shop alone. When the rent doubled he nearly shut it.

In the eighties she sang on the station buffet’s stage. The trains stopped, and she stayed: she built a fight club under the platforms.

Owner of the coffeehouse and an old boxer who won the neighbourhood belt in 1978.

A documentary photographer shooting every corner of the neighbourhood before it gets torn down.

Owns the furniture and electronics shop and would rather tell stories than sell.

Owner of the sports shop, an old amateur who knows every stitch of a glove.

A fashion designer who walks her dog Paşa by the sea.

The neighbourhood vet. She ran the pharmacy for years, then finally closed it to open the clinic she always wanted.

The oldest pickle-maker in the market. Forty years, the same crocks, the same vinegar; every jar has a name.

The winger and the team’s fastest player. After training she sits on the touchline and draws everyone.

A volunteer sea-rescue diver. She swims off the lighthouse rocks every morning, even in winter.

He was the neighbourhood’s feared man: protection money, the shortcut, three henchmen. After you beat him, Coach Cemil gave him two choices: the mop or the police.

The clerk at your shop, and your biggest fan.

The team’s keeper. Bespectacled, shy and mad about comics. More than diving for the ball, he’s trying not to be scared of it.

The Psychology professor. A promising boxer once, he never stepped into the ring again after a knockout.

The Sports Science professor, once the national team’s doctor.

The neighbourhood’s night watchman, who knows every corner by torchlight.

Leader of the “Gece Ritmi” dance crew. A courier by day, a street dancer by night with a speaker in the park.

Betonya’s site engineer. She didn’t design the tower, but she calculated every bolt.

The hotel’s head receptionist, fluent in six languages.

King of the park court. 1.92 m tall, shooting 500 a day with an NBA dream.

Forty years behind the counter. He’s raising his grandson Efe while his daughter works in Germany.

Forty years a ring referee. Now he sits at the barber’s every day telling old fight stories.

Third-generation tailor of Moda. He cuts a suit to thirty-two measurements; “a person is known by thirty-two places,” he says.

The accordionist of Kadıköy Pier; a different song for every ferry.

A film student. She sells sunflower seeds in the evenings and shoots a documentary about the neighbourhood by day.

Karaköy’s oldest fisherman; he sells Chef Murat his freshest bluefish.

The fastest on the sorting belt: four thousand parcels a day, and she knows where every one is going.

Kanal Spor’s star reporter and presenter.

The neighbourhood’s old champion. In one story he leaves you his gloves and a torn ticket from 1979.