So Brazil crashed out of the 2010 World Cup after having been favourites yet again. Five times winner, everyone’s favourite ‘second’ team, Brazil is always the team against which every other team is measured. After all, they play ‘joga bonito’— the beautiful game.
What Brazil (and the rest of us by virtue of association) must learn, however, is that having beautiful skills is not all that is required to win the World Cup. The mental game is of equal importance, as illustrated by Germany, who have never been the best when it comes to ball skills (although they changed perceptions in this world cup), but who have always been one of the best when it comes to attitude and ability not to be rattled—which is why they have won three times.
And it is exactly in this area that a critical mass of Brazil’s team faltered. Malice and petulance were just examples of how, as Dunga, their coach, has said himself, “Brazil is Brazil’s most dangerous opponent”. With the cool-headedness and focussed intent of the Germans, Brazil would have won the World Cup at least half the times it has been played.
Of course, every nation has its strengths, and from a neutral point of view it is not of paramount importance that Brazil keep winning the World Cup. In fact, the World Cup, as with all human dramas, has lots of learning contained in it, no matter who wins. Consider the human virtues displayed through fair-play and sporting behaviour, team spirit, and so on. Or the vices displayed by the opposite—dangerous tackles, play acting and cheating. The human drama of the ‘hero’, Zidane, walking off the field in disgrace in the final of 2006, after having head-butted an opponent in the chest, is there for all to see and ponder—and learn from.
Obviously, learning doesn’t occur just from observing; if it did, certain players on all the teams would play a more honourable game. My point is, however, that we all have a ‘Zidane’ inside of us, as well as a hero, with integrity, calmness, sense of justice, etc, and that it all depends on our awareness and our choices as to which aspects get cultivated the most.
I know that most do not watch the World Cup with the above level of self-scrutiny in mind, but in the absence (thankfully) of world war and other catastrophes, the whole world playing football together is a wonderful opportunity to play out, observe, and learn from—if one wishes—the drama of the human condition. And in a (fairly) safe context.
Granted, we cannot judge and transpose a person’s integrity on a football field onto what he or she would do when faced with oppression, fascism and the threat of survival. But it seems to me that a football field—or the supermarket, work place, etc—is a good place to start, given that character tends to persist over time and across events.
In 1982, when I was 13 years old, I cried my eyes out when Brazil, the best football team I have ever seen, even to this very day today, went out of the World Cup to Italy. That experience was one of the first ones where I was faced with the sense that life is uncertain, unpredictable, and seldom just (from an observable point of view at least!). It was the first of many lessons in my life that has helped me view life and myself from a deeper perspective. Football is not just the beautiful game, it is also a way of becoming—whatever one chooses to become.
Every time the World Cup comes around, I hope to see my beloved Brazil team of ’82—whether they are from Germany, Ghana or Australia. Apart from beautiful football, they also represented, particular through their midfield-playing doctor, Socrates, an attitude that winning is not everything. How you win, or loose, is of equal, if not greater, importance.
Please learn Brazil (and anyone else who aspire to be as good) until next time when the World Cup comes around! Because I, together with many other fans, will be hoping for nothing less than beauty in heart and mind, as well as skills.