Showing posts with label Brazil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brazil. Show all posts

Friday, 13 June 2014

The Backlash Against Brazil - Why Are We Underwhelmed By The Seleção's Opener?




Neymar - lucky boy

It’s here. The greatest festival of football on its greatest stage – Brazil, the game’s most beautiful team surging to 3-1 win over Croatia with the tournament’s poster boy Neymar grabbing a brace in a pulsating game.

Except that’s not how many fans will see things today. Instead the talk will be of a dive, debatable refereeing and whether Brazil are a bit rubbish but FIFA will see them right because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. 

It’s strange that the backlash should be so strong – opening games of World Cups are often turgid affairs, and this one had incident, goals and was a genuine contest between teams who for periods looked to take each other on rather than spar and wait for easier assignments. In 1998, a far more strongly fancied Brazil struggled to beat Scotland.

But then this is Brazil we’re talking about – a team whom neutrals feel obliged to be dazzled by or feel let down. A slightly cynical group stage victory over tough but less storied opposition by the Germans, Italians or Argentinians (despite their talents) brings grudging admiration – its ‘typical’ of them. By Brazil it’s viewed as a form of sacrilege.

The brilliance of Brazil's  unsuccessful 1982 team

Brazilian football fans almost certainly take a different view – understandable given the trauma of watching the 1982 team go from a seemingly indomitable force to a key component in the World Cup ‘if only’ industry. More recently the 2006 team looked to field a ‘Magic Square’ of the world’s most talented attacking players, only to look listless and run into Zinedine Zidane.

But surely Brazil not quite living up to their billing deserved little more than an exhalation of disappointment and the shuffling of a few fingers rearranging Betfair accounts? Instead it got anger, disappointment and in some wildly disproportionate cases outrage, with Twitter awash and ludicrous declarations that people would be supporting ‘anyone but Brazil' after last night’s game.

Fred dropping as if dead for Brazil’s vital penalty was unedifying and a poor piece of refereeing, Neymar could have seen red – but if he had then the referee would’ve been accused of spoiling the game. Home and big teams getting marginal decisions is hardly a shock in football, with a number of papers showing how refs are influenced by partisan crowds. The World Cup is littered with cases of questionable decisions going in favour of the hosts or its more storied nations, most famously in recent times facilitating South Korea’s extraordinary run to the Semis in 2002 –that's not to mention Azerbaijani linesmen, 1966 and all that.

Part of that backlash is the universal rule of social networks magnifying idiocy, but there is something deeper in at least the lack of enthusiasm for a Brazil victory outside the host country– despite the fact that it would make the tournament into a footballing party we’ve never seen the like of before.  

That anger or at best lack of enthusiasm, for this might come from a different place than fans discovering their often absent sense of aesthetic ideals or exacting sense of fair play. Instead it may be a result of this Brazil side’s conflicting roles as front men for something rather less beautiful than the country’s footballing history and culture.


Brazil's victorious 1994 team



I remember during the first World Cup I watched in 1994 their seemed a moral duty to support Brazil. They hadn’t won since 1970, with the previous ones being won by the unromantic Germans, the streaky Italians (who’d stopped Brazil’s wonderous 1982 team despite not winning a game in the first phase) and the cynical if talented Argentinians. Despite Dunga’s side not being particularly committed to the ideals of ‘Joga Bonito’ there was a sense that after the dark side had been defeated and football was back in the hands of its moral custodians.  

By 1998 Brazil had far more fantasy players, but that sense of organic joy was now a marketing tool. Rather than celebrating the sheer joy of Ronaldo in full flow for its own sake we had to buy the Nike gear and listen to endless lazy media droning about their virtues. They were in short, just another (very good) football team with jazzier marketing.

In 2014 the Seleção are not just a collection of talented players representing a fascinating nation but the conflicted nature of this World Cup in concentrate. While a part of us wants to see Rio in full carnival mode as Neymar sashays through defences, another part sees this as what FIFA and its sponsors want us to think -  a position unwittingly and shamefully articulated by Pele when he said in ITV’s build-up program that protestors would pipe-down once Brazil began winning.



If you define a good course of action by doing the opposite of whatever pseudo-rap abomination Pitbull does then seeing him defile the storied golden shirt in the opening ceremony was a stark reminder that this World Cup's Brazilian flavour also comes served with a dollop of homogonised  crap. For Brazilian protestors the presence of an emaciated Vin Diesel lookalike is the least of their worries, with the World Cup circus' demands of a poor and unequal country symbolising just how cut off the competition is from the reality of  the culture it is supposed to 'celebrate' (read use on marketing material).

That reluctance to be charitable to Brazil when they understandably don’t thrill as much as expected, or adopt them as a second team perhaps tells us less about their merits and more about the fact that even a win will not live up to the past's lofty ideals. They will no doubt thrill us at times, but we'll be unable to view them with quite the same wide-eyed innocence and joy that we did them, and football in the past.

Friday, 9 May 2014

From Bobby Charlton's Comb-Over To Corden And Barlow - A Cultural History Of The England World Cup Song





 Gary got on with Michael like a house with rising damp
 
With the Premier League winding up this weekend, attention will soon shift to The World Cup and everything that goes with it. Of course it’s the football that matters, but it’s impossible to ignore the media paraphernalia that goes with it, of which the primary example is of course the World Cup song.


For this year’s effort the FA have shown their usual imagination by roping in the one man ‘Can I have a Knighthood?’ campaign that is Gary Barlow, and the result is like every electron in the former Take That man’s body – bland.

Despite the fact that it’s not even a new song or a substantial reworking of an old one, ‘Greatest Day’ seems to perfectly fit our footballing era. Like most things involving Barlow it’s ever so slightly insipid – Our Gary’s default expression being that of a man who’s mildly narked that you haven’t used his favourite brand of tea bag. Like most X-Factor montage songs, any inspirational qualities it may have once had have been destroyed by a thousand saccharine shots of teary meetings with elderly relatives. Rather than a battle cry to go into battle for Harry and St George, it’s the sort of song that might inspire you to do your tax returns early (or possibly not in Gary’s case).

Friday, 15 November 2013

Tonight It's Not Just Cristiano v Zlatan But Pop Versus Rock and Roll





The egos have landed, the hair gel and hair ties have been meticulously put into place and tonight two of the world’s greatest players go up against each other to decide who’ll be taking centre stage in next year’s Nike ambush marketing campaign, and who’ll be ITV’s number one target for the job of pretending Adrian Chiles isn’t a total moron at the World Cup next summer. 

Yes it’s Zlatan versus  Cristiano, Ibrahimovic against Ronaldo, or to give the match its proper title Portugal v Sweden. This match represents more though than two men and their mediocre teams’ Freudian journey from Lisbon to the Copacabana. 

It represents the divide in our culture between rock and pop, between the desire to see the talents of the wanton libertine and the pretty boy superstar, between the difficult unpredictable artist and the ultimate artisan.