A Prolonged Exile: Three Israeli Teams Continue Playing Home Games on Foreign Soil in the EuroLeague

The meeting took place in Abu Dhabi — a detail that says more than any official statement. Maccabi Tel Aviv president Shimon Mizrahi and sporting director Claudio Coldebella could not sit down with EuroLeague leadership in Tel Aviv. They had to fly to the capital of the United Arab Emirates to hear the familiar answer: nothing has changed. I have followed Israeli teams playing on neutral courts for many seasons, and I have learned a rule: when an anomaly lasts long enough, it becomes a false normality. They call me a troublemaker. I am just listening to the creak of the wheel. This issue has dragged on for multiple seasons. EuroLeague currently has three Israeli teams in its competitions, and all three are forced to play home games outside their own country. Maccabi Tel Aviv is the most storied representative, a name tied to the league's history, a multiple-time champion that always generated a unique appeal with its passionate Tel Aviv crowd. The statement Maccabi Tel Aviv released on Saturday only confirmed the status quo: Israeli teams still cannot host games on home soil. The reason is the situation in the Middle East and the international conflict. But the most notable detail in the statement is the news that EuroLeague CEO Chus Bueno and competitions director Diego Gijón will travel to Israel within the next two weeks for an evaluation visit. The trip has been arranged at the club's invitation — a detail showing Maccabi Tel Aviv is trying to keep control of its own narrative. This is a rare signal that the league is actively re-assessing the situation, even though no commitments or specific timelines have been announced. For a club that has won the EuroLeague, Maccabi Tel Aviv is trapped in a paradox: the better they perform, the less urgency they create for a definitive solution. False stability is hiding a structural fracture. What concerns me is not that three Israeli teams are playing away from home — it is how the EuroLeague has turned an emergency into a long-running operational arrangement that no one dares to call by its real name. Every so-called home game for Maccabi Tel Aviv at a neutral venue is a chain of costs: arena rental, team travel, hotels, security, insurance. These costs are significantly higher than those of a standard home game, where the club already owns or has long-term contracts with its arena and existing operational systems. Meanwhile, revenue drops sharply: home-game ticket income disappears, Israeli fans cannot attend, and sponsorship contracts tied to live experiences lose value. Fans still watch the team on television, but they are no longer part of the ritual. We lose audiences not because of ghost games, but because we turned a ritual into a product. Worse, this is a compounding disadvantage, not a one-season problem. A team that travels more, recovers worse, and plays in front of fewer fans accumulates fatigue month after month. Home-court advantage in the EuroLeague is typically quantified at 55-60% win rate for the home team according to previously published studies. When that advantage disappears, Israeli teams do not just lose points in the standings — they lose their winning formula. Basketball culture does not die from losing games. It commits suicide when it believes winning is everything. The meeting in Abu Dhabi also exposed a subtle diplomatic move: the role of the United Arab Emirates in European basketball's map. The fact that the EuroLeague chose Abu Dhabi as the meeting location — rather than a traditional neutral city in Europe — suggests the league is calculating a broader Middle East strategy. Nothing in this meeting was accidental; it was an implicit statement about commercial direction. And perhaps that is why the exile of Israeli teams has lasted so long: if the solution of going home is no longer the priority, the focus shifts to pushing top-level basketball deeper into the wealthy Gulf market. Maccabi Tel Aviv's statement does not sound urgent at all. On the contrary, it resembles a routine update from a club that has grown accustomed to exile. The presence of Shimon Mizrahi and Claudio Coldebella alongside EuroLeague leadership in Abu Dhabi is meant to reassure fans rather than to exert real pressure. The EuroLeague is sending its CEO and competitions director to Israel within two weeks at the club's invitation. People call this an evaluation. I call it a way to delay every difficult decision for another quarter. There is a larger issue: systemic injustice. If the EuroLeague truly values competitive integrity, it needs a compensation mechanism for Israeli teams: higher broadcast revenue shares, operational cost support, or a dedicated scheduling system that reduces travel distances. None of this appears in the statement. Instead, fans receive a familiar line and a promise of a visit. The EuroLeague's silence on financial compensation is the most telling admission: three Israeli teams are considered expendable for the league's growth goals. There is an even darker area the statement does not address: the mental and physical health of the players. They do not just play away from home; they live away from home. Many have to bring their families along, while others accept living apart from their families to focus on their careers. No home arena, no traditional rituals, no community connection — the things that drive a professional player's motivation. The EuroLeague handled a similar situation well during the pandemic, when the entire season was consolidated in a biosecure bubble and every team suffered equally. The difference this time is that only three Israeli teams pay the price, while the other seventeen play under normal conditions. This situation is no longer force majeure; it has become a structural discrimination, quietly enforced season after season. If the evaluation visit produces positive results, the first step could be allowing Maccabi Tel Aviv to host a test game in Tel Aviv with an international security presence, similar to the model used in other conflict zones. But even the most optimistic scenario is a single game, not a full season. And even if security permits, logistical issues such as insurance for foreign players, away-team travel, and players' union approval remain significant barriers. Whatever the case, the EuroLeague's commitment to an evaluation visit does not mean it is looking for an early solution. It could simply be a public relations move while the league expands its business in the Middle East. But I could be wrong. Am I exaggerating by casting Israeli teams as victims of a strategic calculation? Perhaps playing at a neutral site, with good security conditions and a reasonably adjusted schedule, is actually the smart choice — because the alternative is leaving the EuroLeague entirely, a commercial disaster no one could accept. Perhaps the upcoming evaluation is a genuine step forward, and I am too pessimistic to see the progress happening behind the scenes. If the Israeli government eases security conditions for international sporting events, all of my analysis could collapse within weeks. But until that happens, one question remains: what price is the EuroLeague paying to keep three Israeli teams in the league, and is that price being pushed onto the clubs left behind? The evaluation visit by Chus Bueno and Diego Gijón to Israel in the next two weeks will be the most important signal of the season. If they return with a long report and a list of conditions requiring more time, the exile will continue as the default. But if they carry a roadmap for return — however distant — I will be ready to write a retraction. For now, three Israeli teams are still holding their fate in a foreign arena, far from home and far from their fans. And the question lingers: will the EuroLeague ever see this as its own problem, or just as the Israelis' story?