A Passion Like No Other

Football is everywhere. And in a football-mad city, with the world cup just two months away, it was only a matter of time before I would have to write about it. But don’t let that inevitability scare you off. This is not a tactical analysis, more an exploration of how and why football holds such standing in the Brazilian psyche.

It’s a stereotype that Brazilians love football, that the country stops for the national team’s matches and that babies are born with a ball at their feet. This is not a misconception. I see football-related things on a daily basis. Firstly, football shirts are sported in abundance, from professional journalists in the workplace to babies adorned from head to toe in the colours of their team. Rio’s four teams, Flamengo, Fluminense, Vasco da Gama and Botafogo are well supported, but you will also see the usual suspects from Europe: Liverpool, Chelsea, Real Madrid etc… On the beach, there is the constant patter of footballs and volleyballs, as men, women and children alike exercise the right to show off their skills, which are plentiful.

Support is huge. Despite protests and concerns that stadia won’t be completed, there are already ridiculous levels of excitement in the air as the World Cup approaches. Advertisements and talk of the ‘Copa’ is relentless. At work, a sports newspaper, in an environment made up largely of adult males, there is a phenomenon that is taking the office by storm: the World Cup Sticker Book. I queried this with my colleagues, explaining that where I’m from, the sticker book is aimed at children. I was not only shot down straight away, but have since bought a copy of my own and become an avid collector, to the extent that my local newsagent no longer has to ask what I’ve come to buy. Now, I begin my working day by trading players in a throw back to the Pokemon era. Here, being obsessed with football is not only tolerated, but understood and encouraged. The same cannot be said at home.

My sticker book

But for all this love of the game, stadiums are rarely full. One may cite the cost of tickets or the dangers of returning home late as reasons for this, but in reality, Brazilians tend to be fair weather supporters. That is to say, they’ll only come to see a winning team play. Last week, I went to see Botafogo play in the Copa Libertadores (South America’s Champions League) and was quite shocked at the fans’ reaction to going a goal down. Having applauded wild shots from distance and hissed any pass played backwards, the entire crowd completely lost their rag when Botafogo conceded. Abuse was hurled at the players for the remainder of the game and they continued to get an earful whilst heading down the tunnel. Similarly, many Flamengo fans boycotted yesterday’s Rio State Championship Final against Vasco da Gama, following their side’s exit from the Copa Libertadores in mid-week. Unlike in Europe, the domestic competitions are considered almost irrelevant in comparison with the continent’s greatest prize, such that many Flamenguistas weren’t present to see their team triumph.

Vasco fans celebrating going a goal up

Yesterday’s final was a sensational spectacle. After much deliberation, I have adopted Vasco as my local team. The strip is classy, all black with a diagonal white stripe, which is reversed when playing away from home. The support is deafening, as I experienced yesterday, but as I said, only when the team is winning. Flamengo’s goal two minutes from time, rendered half of the Marcanã silent. It was eerie. The stand emptied moments after the final whistle had sounded, which was not only remarkable but also reassuring, in case an emergency evacuation is required during the World Cup. Sound travels extremely well in the Maracanã’s bowl-shaped stadium. Capable of holding 80,000 people, I was surprised by the amount of noise just 50,000 could create. Jumping, swearing and banging things ferociously would best describe the typical Vasco fan.  

Me in a vasco shirt

But there is something else that characterises the Brazilian football fan: a fear of disappointment. Rather than try and give the players a lift, he will complain loudly at their ineptitude, bemoaning the lack of success that his team might enjoy. The 1950 World Cup Final, which Brazil lost in the Maracanã against Uruguay, by a goal to nil, was an unbelievable disappointment. I’ve heard stories of fans committing suicide after that game, claiming that they had nothing left to live for. Brazilians have perhaps become more realistic since then, but losing this year’s World Cup is still a largely inconceivable notion. The pressure on the players will be unprecedented, far greater than the expectations we place on the shoulders of the England team every four years.

Botafogo vs Unión Española

The country will be brought to a standstill. Basic services will cease to operate. These are not wild predictions; I have it on good authority from several Brazilians and many foreigners, who have lived here for donkey’s years. The one prediction I will make is that Brazil will win in the Maracanã on the 13^th July. The Copa is destined to end up in their hands, urged on by a population that simply will not contemplate anything but victory. When Brazilians are in a good mood, the parties are a lot of fun. If Brazil were to win the World Cup, the excitement levels in Rio will be nothing short of dangerous. Bring it on.