Towards the end of the group phase Vanderlei Luxemburgo’s Brazil, with Ronaldinho and Alex shining, had booked their place in the second round. Colombia seemed sure to join them. They had played well, and only needed to avoid a five goal defeat against the Brazilians to make sure of their slot. I interviewed the Colombian coach, Javier Alvarez, the day before the game. “It is not Colombia that need to be worried about Brazil,” he said, “but Brazil who need to be worried about Colombia.” He was so sure of the strength of his team that he left his best players on the bench – and then hurriedly had to bring them on as the goals started flying in. Whatever he did, he could not stop the flow. But the time the final whistle came Colombia had lost 9-0 and Alvarez was out of a job. There is a big lesson there – never be so foolish as to underestimate Brazilian football.
I thought of that story when I read in the Brazilian press about the latest issue of English magazine ‘Four Four Two.’ I haven’t read the magazine – I can only go on the repercussion in the Brazilian media. But Sunday’s version of sports daily ‘Lance!’ did helpfully print a copy of ‘Four Four Two’s’ front cover, which proclaims ‘The Death of Brazil.’ It comes as a shock, especially as publications such as this one have spent years pushing the virtues of the so-called samba stars. So why the change?
Perhaps one explanation is that, as a result of the 2014 World Cup, the planet is starting to become acquainted with the deficiencies of football organisation in Brazil. The front cover proclaims that ‘2014’s in chaos.’ And indeed the state of preparation is a long, long way short of ideal.
But there is little new or unpredictable here. The big villain is the archaic and semi-feudal federal structure of Brazilian football. Brazil effectively knew that it would stage the 2014 World Cup in March 2003. The host cities were not announced until the end of May 2009 – and, for the first time, the decision was pushed to FIFA. Over six years were thrown away. Why? Because the power base of Ricardo Teixeira, long term boss of Brazil’s FA, is not formed by the clubs, but by the presidents of the federations in the 27 states that make up this giant country. Excluding cities – barring them from the party – would alienate part of this power base and turn them into enemies, and so, on political grounds, Teixeira passed the buck.
It is, though, for exactly the same reason that the calendar of Brazilian football continues to include the ludicrously obsolete State Championships, where the big clubs waste their time playing endless matches against tiny, insignificant opponents. Take away the State Championships and the State federations will have little to do. He who controls the small clubs controls the state federations, and therefore, the calendar of the Brazilian game, in a manner that sacrifices the interests of the big clubs. It is a classic case of the tail wagging the dog. It is the way Brazilian football is run – and was run while magazines such as ‘Four Four Two’ were fawning all over the ‘samba stars.’
On the pitch, the magazine cover contends, Brazil’s ‘best players are defenders.’ We could argue about whether Daniel Alves could really be classified as a defender, but there is something more fundamental here – which is that Brazil’s defence resources are currently looking a little thin. Lucio is indeed a top centre back, though he is nearing the end of his career. Thiago Silva is a magnificent defender, while David Luiz is promising but erratic.
It is worth bearing in mind that in 1994 Brazil lost its two first choice centre backs, Ricardo Gomes and Mozer, on the eve of the World Cup. The next in line, Ricardo Rocha, was injured in the opening game. Even so, Brazil patched up a superb defence with Aldair and Marcio Santos – and superb centre backs such as Julio Cesar, possibly the best of the lot, and Mauro Galvao were not even called up. Now that was defensive strength in depth!
Going back further, it is mind boggling to consider how famous the likes of Orlando Pecanha or Domingos da Guia would have been in today’s globalised football. But Brazil’s tradition of wonderful centre backs does not fit the image – which is totally misleading – of Brazilian football being all about fun and expression, of teams prepared to concede six as long as they can score seven. And here we reach the crux of the matter.
‘The football’s ugly,’ screams the cover of ‘Four Four Two.’ It is backlash time!
Since the tie in with Nike in the mid 90s, an attempt has been made to capitalise on a global scale on the image of the Brazil national team as the great entertainers, the spiritual guardians of the soul of the game. In advertising terms, the product was oversold – which has now been laid as bare as the Emperor in his new clothes by the appearance and consolidation of a rival reference point.
The Barcelona/Spain school has now taken Brazil’s place in this regard. And the interesting aspect here is that the Catalan camp are doing things which many of Brazil’s coaches had been arguing were no longer possible. It is no coincidence that there it is all but impossible to find equivalents of Xavi and Iniesta in contemporary Brazilian football. Ever since Rubens Minelli in the 1970s the argument has been that the physical development of the game obliged the central midfielders to be tall. Also, the statistics seemed to show that there was no future in the passing style – if the move contained more than seven passes then the chances of a goal were reduced.
Based on these premises, Brazilian football looked to produce athletic players built for explosion. Midfield elaboration was old fashioned. The quick counter attack was the way forward, coupled with the skilful execution of set pieces.
Pragmatism, though, is all very well when it wins. When it falls short, when its failure does not leave the odd golden moment in the memory, then there are calls for change.
One of the most interesting things that Mano Menezes said when he took over as Brazil coach was the need to change the style of play, to come up with something more traditional in order to ensure that the home fans are fully behind the team in 2014.
It is still early days. But two developments can be highlighted.
One is the end of the Gilberto Silva figure, the central midfielder who is more like a third centre back, and whose lack of passing skills robs the team of rhythm. Lucas Leiva, a much more versatile, forward thinking player has been filling the role.
The other is the constant apparition of new talents, products of Brazil’s unequalled conveyor belt. Neymar is by no means the finished article, but at 19 he has already packed in plenty of experience as he hones his special talent. A year ago no one would have imagined that Lucas of Sao Paulo would be in the national squad, and that the fans would be calling for his introduction from the bench. Others will surely emerge in time for 2014.
This is a fascinating moment to follow Brazilian football, precisely because so many things would seem to be in a state of flux. Can the big clubs find the courage to break out of an antiquated structure? Can the coaches and players respond to the challenge of Barcelona/Spain?
Maybe, maybe not. But it hardly seems wise to proclaim the death of Brazil. Javier Alvarez made that mistake once.
