“You are not a Brazilian. So, you do not know what football means to us,” admonished my friend Elaisa. Brazil had conceded a goal to France in the first half of the World Cup final game in 1998. Elaisa was sobbing uncontrollably. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. I felt helpless, but also surprised.
“Look this is only a game, someone has to win and someone has to lose. Brazil is a rich country and has so much more than football. The Iguassu falls, the Amazonas forests, Rio, Copacabana! Why do you weep?” I asked incredulously.
“You do not understand, football is not just a game for us, it is like religion for us,” she replied, between her sobs. Then, Brazil lost to France. Elaisa was inconsolable.
Of all the days I lived in Brazil, the most horrendous day was when Brazil lost the finals in the World Cup 1998 to France. It was a very depressing, horrible day.
Actually, the Brazilians expected to win. They were playing pretty well. In the street where I lived, for almost 10 days before the final match, restaurants were piling up inventories of beer, drinks and food. From the gallery of my apartment, I could see trucks arrive, daily, laden with food and drinks for the celebration. Everyone was gearing up for a Brazilian victory! For, had Brazil won, there would have been a carnival for 10 days. People would have sung and danced endlessly! The bands were ready to burst into carnival music!
Unfortunately, Brazil lost. The munificent preparations were wasted.
The streets were empty. The night was ghostly silent. There was not a car on the street. Not a leaf moved. I could not bear to be home. I went down. The restaurants were empty. There were a scattering of people, all very depressed. It was as if, a pall of gloom had descended over the capital. I sensed, it was across the country.
Everyone was miserable. Marcos, the owner of my favourite restaurant at Rua Oscar Friere, was sobbing uncontrollably. “Look, take it easy. Brazil will win next time,” I consoled him. “I cannot wait four more years. I want that Cup today”, he responded vehemently. Unfortunately, the Cup had already gone.
“What happened yesterday?” I asked Silvester, my driver taking me from my house to my office, the next day. He exploded, “Are you joking with me, ‘chefe’ (boss)?” he asked.
He erupted into a 30-minute tirade in rapid-fire Portuguese, analyzing the entire game, in which Brazil had lost to France. He was agitated and gesticulating with one hand and driving the car at top speed with the other. I was mortified. After that frightful ride, I never discuss football with a Brazilian, when he is driving a car.
The Brazilians are very passionate about football. They had won the World Cup four times (They won once more subsequently in 2002). This is a great source of tremendous national pride.
When the World Cup is on, the entire country turns yellow and green, the colours of the Brazilian flag. The colours of many buildings are changed, during the World Cup. The buildings, 25 floors or 26 floors, are painted green and yellow stripes, to resemble the national flag. Every house has Brazilian flags fluttering. Every car has the flag of Brazil, flying on the bonnet.
The colours of the national fla dominate the clothes of people, of all ages. The ties, which men wear to office, are printed in the colours of the Brazilian flag.
The colours of the swimsuits of the pretty lasses in Rio de Janeiro change to green and yellow during the World Cup. At Copa Cabana, the signature beach of Rio, 6 out of 10 girls wear swimming costumes of the Brazilian colour.
Bikinis, called “dental floss”, are very thin and even they change into yellow and green strings during that period. Even the sweaters of pet dogs in Sao Paulo are green and yellow. There is only one goal: Brazil must bring home the World Cup.
Corporations are smart and adopt flexibilities in the work timings to enable their staff to see the matches. When Brazil plays, most offices either close down or give the staff a holiday. However, if the match is in the morning around 10.30 a.m. then all offices will open after lunch. If the match is at 4.00 p.m., then all offices close after lunchtime. If the match is at mid-day or around 1.00 p.m., then companies just rent 100 TV sets and put them in every department so that everyone can watch the match. When the match is on, everything stops.
The entire country is frozen in time during those three hours when the World Cup match is on. Everyone is glued to the televisions in their homes, offices, restaurants, anywhere! Nothing moves. Brazil as a country simply freezes for three hours.
The mood of the country changes vividly with Brazil’s performance. When Brazil scores a goal, the echoes of “Goooooaaaaal” tear the skies asunder. However, if Brazil loses a game, the entire country is plunged into national mourning.
Brazilians adore football. Football unites the country. Brazil is one of the few countries which has achieved harmonious integration of people of different racial backgrounds through the love for the game.
The top footballers of Brazil are superstars. They enjoy tremendous respect and adulation in the country. It is the dream of every five-year-old boy to be a Pele, Ronaldo, Dunga or a Kaka someday. They are revered heroes of Brazil.
Therefore, this time, 12 years later, when Brazil went out of the World Cup, I was saddened again. I know Elaisa would be shedding tears again, somewhere in Sao Paulo. But this time, I was heart-broken too. Elaisa and Brazil had taught me to “adora” (love) football, as a Brazilian does. Over the years, Elaisa’s team had become my team.
