Brazil

The ‘home of football’ in the modern era

Samba. Flair. The Beautiful Game. The Brazilian Football Confederation (CBF) bears an enormous responsibility that no other soccer federation in the world must: to produce not only a winning team, but one that wins with style. Even winning the World Cup, the greatest achievement in all of sport, cannot quench the thirst of a soccer-obsessed country.

Brazil is, in the words of The Guardian’s former South American correspondent Alex Bellos, a nation “built on stories, myths, and Chinese whispers,” a tendency that has romanticized past generations of players and exalted the the play of former selecaos — the name given to the Brazil national squad — as nothing short of sacred.

Though many were not even alive to witness it, Brazilians universally declare the World Cup champion selecao of 1970, featuring Pele, pictured at right following the 1970 finals victory, as the greatest football side ever.

These teams won on the scoreboard, but furthermore outclassed opponents and dazzled in a way that — in the eyes of Brazilians — has never been emulated by any other nation in the world. Thus, while most national teams will set out to compete against the best teams on the planet at this summer’s World Cup, Brazil will have the added challenge of competing not only against Mexico, Croatia, and Cameroon, but against its very own history of teams and players that played, won, and, above all, entertained.

Garrincha, famed for his dribbling prowess, was the epitome of the Brazilian style; physically inferior — even born with crippling disabilities — but able to best opponents through superior skill and clever trickery.

Although the Brazilian Football Confederation has existed for a century, Brazil’s success can perhaps best be attributed to disorganization rather than concrete sporting infrastructure. The urban conditions in cities from Rio to Sao Paulo foster acute ball skills and a glorified cheekiness that have become cornerstones of Brazil’s style.

The task of the Brazilian Football Confederation has been to create an organized chaos, to develop sporting infrastructure without stifling the creativity that has developed naturally without it. The CBF’s critics advocate for a laissez-faire approach; Brazilian players develop best on their own and the CBF would be best off staying out of the way, lest it destroy the very essence of what makes Brazilian soccer so great.

To the contrary, in the words of BBC writer Tim Vickery, it is “an idiotic myth that Brazilian football [is] some kind of Carnival in boots, a disorganized ballet” as many believe it and even praise it for being. Rather, in order to maximize the efficacy of Brazilian soccer, the federation has had to nurture, integrate, and provide a platform for the immense collective talent of its players.

The CBF has achieved these objectives primarily through its organization of club teams within the Campeonato Brasileiro, the league which it operates. Notable club teams such as Santos, Corinthians, Fluminense and handful of others have been responsible for the identification and development of talented young players within the country, a model that has served Brazil well with the production of greats from Zizinho to Pele to Zico to Neymar.

However, changing circumstances make this system potentially untenable, which may inflict severe damage on the continued dominance of Brazilian soccer. Beginning in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s, richer, superior European clubs began buying Brazil’s best talent. While today nearly 100% of Brazil’s players are still produced domestically, by the age of 22 or 23, the best have all been exported to Europe, meaning the quality of the domestic Brazilian league has lagged significantly behind its counterparts across the Atlantic.

Romario, pictured playing for Dutch club PSV, marked one of the first of Brazil’s elite to spend the majority of his career in Europe as opposed to on home soil.

This trend, compounded with vast amounts of debt accumulated by Brazilian clubs — even with the gargantuan transfer fees doled out to them by elite European clubs — has put the stability of Brazil’s developmental structure in jeopardy.

This is not to say that Brazilian soccer is in danger. So long as there is a Brazil, there will be a culture centered around the sport — and long lines of interested buyers for Brazil’s elite talent. What role the CBF plays in maintaining a competitive first division and national team however is very much up in the air.

Among its recent efforts, the CBF has proposed various penalties for clubs that carry too much debt or do not pay players or staff on time, an initiative that many, including former World Cup winner-turned-legislator Romario, have criticized as unrealistic and ineffective. The CBF however has shown resolve on this matter that indicates it is serious about preserving the future of Brazilian clubs. Federation spokesman Vilson De Andrade has warned that even the most storied clubs in Brazil “won’t open their doors” if they continue on this unsustainable path.

The CBF has accomplished a great deal during its century-long lifespan. It has put together the most successful senior men’s side in the history of the sport. It has built the Maracana, revered by many as the grandest stadium in the world, and is playing host to its second World Cup this summer. It has produced, or helped produce, the greatest player of all time, Pele, along with many of the other best of all time including Didi, Garrincha, Jairzinho, Socrates, Ronaldo, Rivaldo, and Ronaldinho. It operates what has traditionally been and continues to be in the eyes of most the best league in the western hemisphere.

The Marcacana Stadium was built in order to host games for the 1950 World Cup finals in Brazil, seating more fans than any other stadium in the world. The Maracana serves as a beacon of pride for Brazilians as a symbol of their country’s superiority within the world of soccer.

However, in the modern era, this historical success may prove to be the greatest enemy of the present. While Brazil brings a squad full of stars to this summer’s tournament, it is by no means head and shoulders above the rest. In order to win, it may have to sacrifice some of the aesthetics that the deified teams of 1958, 1962, and 1970 embodied. Some might even say that this process has been well underway for the past two decades, with the introduction of ‘destroyer’ type players like Dunga and Gilberto Silva — considered to be enemies of the “beautiful game” philosophy — into the central midfield places once exclusively occupied by skilled, elegant passers of the ball.

Similarly, the CBF must regulate clubs and instill a spirit of moderation in a league that is no longer one of the best in the world and cannot retain its top talent. While fans of Santos, Flamengo, and Sao Paulo may pine for the days in which they were the best clubs in the world, the reality that European clubs are richer and have far greater revenue streams from domestic and continental competitions reveals a need to put in place firmer regulations and accept the Campeonato’s role as a largely developmental league.

The 1950 World Cup ended in disappointment and embarrassment for the Brazilian Football Federation, with Brazil losing 2-1 in the final game of the tournament to its underdog neighbor Uruguay. What was referred to by Brazilian playwright Nelson Rodrigues as “our catastrophe, our Hiroshima” did not permanently cripple the development of the game though; rather, it marked the beginning of a period in which Brazilian clubs began to flourish and the national team accomplished more in a 20 year period than any other team in history. Hence, regardless of the result in the summer’s World Cup, the CBF must continue to grow, not in the shadow of legends past, but in the light of tactical innovation, economic realities, and beautiful soccer, redefined for the modern era.