When Yevhen Tarasenko arrived in Latvia, he spent his first weeks driving across the country, attending matches in the Virslīga and the Nākotnes līga. He watched games in Tukums, Jelgava, Liepāja and Riga, observing stadiums, squads, tactics, and how teams responded under pressure. Some matches he attended quietly, others he revisited through video. The aim was not to evaluate results, but to understand the environment he was entering. In an in-depth interview with OnlyFacts podcast, the former Ukrainian Premier League defender talks about his journey to Latvia and his approach to football.
Tarasenko had not come to Latvia by chance. His route into Latvian football passed through Ukraine, where he spent most of his professional life as a player, agent and later club executive. Five years earlier, he had been involved in building LNZ Cherkasy from amateur status into a Ukrainian Premier League side. The project moved quickly, and it reshaped how he viewed football operations: structure mattered as much as talent, and patience mattered as much as ambition.
Latvia presented a different scale. Budgets were smaller, squads thinner, and margins narrower. Tarasenko was aware of this before he arrived, but chose to see it firsthand. “You can’t understand a league from match reports,” he says. “You have to see how teams train, how they react when things go wrong, how quickly problems show themselves.”
Joining Grobiņa
Last season, FK Grobiņa had struggled for stability. Results were inconsistent, the squad lacked depth, and the club was still adjusting to life in the top division. Tarasenko acknowledged the fact that these circumstances opened the door for his arrival. “If everything was working perfectly, I wouldn’t be here,” he says. “That’s normal. In football, change comes when results force it.”
His connection to Grobiņa developed gradually. A business relationship between club ownership and Ukrainian partners led to early conversations, initially informal and exploratory. Over time, those conversations became more concrete. When Tarasenko finally travelled to Riga to meet club representatives in person, discussions moved from general ideas to operational detail: recruitment models, squad planning, and expectations.
The role he assumed was comprehensive. As sporting director, Tarasenko oversees the sporting structure of the club: coaching appointments, player recruitment, squad balance and long-term planning. Financial responsibility sits with ownership, but sporting decisions must align with the resources available. “The biggest cost in any club is salaries,” he says. “Everything starts there.”
In Latvia, recruitment presents a persistent challenge. The league sits outside the main transfer pathways that players and agents prioritise, and many footballers aim for Western Europe. Clubs in Latvia often have to compete financially to attract players who see the league as a stepping stone.
“That’s true for Ukraine as well,” Tarasenko says. “Players look at the level of competition and future exposure. If you want them, you have to convince them with opportunity or pay more.”
Despite a major injection into the club’s budget last season, Grobiņa still does not have the resources to outbid established clubs. Recruitment therefore requires selectivity and pragmatism. As a sporting director, Tarasenko focuses on players whose profiles match the league’s demands – physical readiness, adaptability, and consistency over a full season. Statistical output plays an important role, but it is not treated in isolation. “If a player has played 25 matches for two seasons in a row, that matters,” he explains. “It tells you he can survive the league.”
New coach and fight for survival
Tarasenko says that he does not impose players on coaches. Every recruitment decision is discussed. “I’ve never signed a player without the coach’s approval,” he says. “If the coach doesn’t believe in him, it won’t work.”
This approach became particularly important when Grobiņan adjusted its tactical structure. Under previous management, the team had played with three central defenders. Tarasenko felt the system demanded a squad depth the club did not possess. “That system needs constant rotation on the flanks,” he says. “We didn’t have that.”
Following the departure of long-time coach Viktors Dobrecovs and the subsequent appointment of new head coach, Oskars Kļava, extended discussions about playing principles and squad suitability ensued. Grobiņa were scraping the bottom of the table and losing club identity. Tactical alignment did not guarantee results, but it allowed recruitment to proceed with clarity. “Once you know how you want to play, you know which profiles you need,” Tarasenko explains.
According to Tarasenko, Grobiņa’s primary struggle during the season was squad depth. Injuries and suspensions frequently reduced matchday options to eight or nine available players. Under those conditions, tactical flexibility disappeared. “Any injury became a problem,” Tarasenko recalls. “We worked with whoever was fit.”
Despite this, the team managed to stabilise late in the season. The results were not spectacular, but they were sufficient to meet the club’s immediate objective of remaining in the Virslīga, albeit via relegation play-offs. Tarasenko attributes this to collective effort rather than structural perfection. “The players fought,” he says. “That mattered.”
He also acknowledges the emotional volatility that accompanied decisive matches, including during those infamous relegation play-offs against JDFS Alberts. VAR decisions and refereeing debates did not surprise him. “When the stakes are high, emotions follow,” he says laconically. “That’s football.”
Loans, youth and sustainability
One of the recurring dilemmas in Latvian football concerns player loans. Larger clubs regularly loan young players to smaller teams, offering short-term quality but limited long-term return. Tarasenko does not oppose the practice, but he treats it cautiously.
“A loan player comes to play,” he says. “If he doesn’t play, it helps no one. If he plays, he helps the team for one season.”
Youth development presents the opposite challenge. Developing local players requires time, tolerance for mistakes, and acceptance of uneven results. Tarasenko believes both approaches can coexist, but only if their roles are clearly defined. “You need short-term competitiveness and long-term continuity,” he says. “That balance is difficult.”
At Grobiņa, the focus remains on local recruitment first. Financial limits reinforce that approach. When foreign players are signed, Tarasenko prioritises quality over nationality. “The passport doesn’t matter,” he says. “The quality does.”
Having worked as an agent himself, Tarasenko approaches agent relationships pragmatically. He rejects the idea that agents are inherently harmful. “Agents are part of football,” he says. “Players need someone who protects their interests.”
From a club perspective, clarity matters more than ideology. If a player has an agent, communication goes through the agent. If not, discussions are direct. Tarasenko avoids interfering in contractual arrangements between players and their representatives. “That’s their business,” he says.
He also stresses the importance of honesty. Promises of rapid transfers or guaranteed pathways rarely materialise. “Transfers are hard work,” he says. “They don’t happen overnight.”
This is also because of how complex recruitment and selection has become. Modern recruitment increasingly relies on data. Tarasenko uses statistics as a filtering tool, not a deciding factor. Injury history, minutes played and positional usage shape early assessments. Advanced metrics are considered when available, but they do not replace observation.
“At smaller clubs, you don’t have full analytics departments,” he says. “You use what you have.”
Judgement remains central. Motivation, adaptability and professionalism cannot be fully measured. “If a player doesn’t want to play football, nothing helps,” Tarashenko remarks.
Adapting to work in Latvia and what the future holds for Grobiņa
Latvia did not present major adaptation obstacles for Tarasenko. Language familiarity and regional experience eased settling in. Ukrainian players, in particular, adjusted quickly. “The football mentality is similar,” he acknowledges.
He notes broader trends in recruitment, including increased interest in African markets. These players often arrive at lower cost and with resale potential, but require structured support. “Talent alone isn’t enough,” Tarasenko says. “You have to integrate them properly.”
Tarasenko avoids grand predictions about Latvian football. He believes progress depends on structure, education and consistency. Youth development remains central, but only if it is linked to senior football pathways.
“Everything starts at the bottom,” he says. “Children are the same everywhere, whether in Latvia, Spain or Ukraine. It is conditions decide outcomes.”
He points to international examples where long-term investment in youth structures produced delayed but sustainable results. Those models, he believes, are transferable only with patience. “You can’t copy outcomes,” he says. “You copy processes.”
Looking ahead, Tarasenko does not frame football as a moral project. Clubs operate within constraints set by resources, geography and timing. Success depends on how those constraints are managed.
“At this level, football is about choices,” he says. “You choose where to invest time, money and trust.”
At Grobiņa, those choices continue to evolve. The club remains a work in progress, defined by small adjustments rather than sweeping change. For Tarasenko, however, that is less of a shortcoming and more the reality of football on narrow margins, where structure and diligence determine survival as much as ambition, if not more so.
Source: https://youtu.be/MrjwExl0Jy4?si=7zN0IapLlz9ejy2S
