Sport - Football

Why the Brazilian game is the ultimate in sport

By Nirmal Shekar

In every pub in every street in England, there would have been someone who might have quietly celebrated when Rivaldo crowned Ronaldinho's dash of genius with the equalising goal for Brazil against England in the quarterfinals on Friday, and then again when the little man with the toothy smile and an unkempt mop of curly hair produced that devastating free kick which dipped like a guided missile into the corner of the goal.

In every town and city in every country where football is played and watched, there were, of course, millions who celebrated those goals, and finally, a magnificent Brazilian victory, with greater fervour than they might have been able to work up had their own country accomplished something of significance in the world of sport.

What, then, is it about Brazilian football that unites us — sportsmen, sports media, sports administrators, and sports fans alike — like nothing else can in the world of sport?

Why do so many men, women and even children have so much at stake emotionally each time the Samba drums beat and the ball rolls on the turf in a major tournament? Why do grown men, sane men, accomplished men, ignore lucrative businesses and important work at office to stay glued to the TV screen when Brazil plays and then find themselves close to tears when the South American team is under threat of defeat, as it was when Michael Owen scored that early goal for England?

So many different peoples — Asian and European and American and African — so many different voices — Spanish and English and Hindi and Urdu and Tamil and Malayalam and Sinhalese and Portuguese — but one cause, one reason to celebrate: a Brazilian victory!

Isn't that extraordinary? What else can match this phenomenon in the world of sport?

A Sachin Tendulkar century, even when India loses a Test match, is often reason enough to celebrate for millions of Indians who idolise the little master from Mumbai. A David Beckham free kick that fetches a goal will bring the roof down in many a pub in England. A Shane Warne believe-it-or-not leg break that knocks the bails off like an angry hissing cobra is a thing of beauty that would bring gasps of delight in the bars and beaches of Sydney and Melbourne.

But these wonderful sporting spectacles, as vivid as they are as images in our memory, are dwarfed in comparison to the collective celebratory mood of the whole world of sport when Brazil wins at football.

Why? What is so special about Brazilian football that it should erase national boundaries, ethnic divides and religious and political and linguistic barriers to bring hundreds of millions of people together for a celebration like no other?

Beauty. That's the key. Nothing in sport is quite as astonishingly beautiful as Brazilian football at its best. Surely, on Friday, it was not quite at its best. And this team itself cannot be compared to the mightly Brazilians of 1970 spearheaded by the incomparable Pele.

But beautiful moments there were aplenty, not the least when Ronaldinho cut a swathe down the middle on turbo charged feet and then nonchalantly laid the ball on for Rivaldo to score, and, just into the second half, authored a free kick match-winner that was a Perfect 10 in terms of art and beauty.

Does the leather orb look quite as much a thing of beauty as it does when the Rivaldos and the Ronaldos and the Carloses get their feet to it. It is almost as if they were born with the ball stuck to one of their feet!

And sometimes, when the show is on, when football makes that giant leap from being a mere sport to a rare art form, the result itself seems insignificant. That is the folly, both with us — the worshippers of Brazilian football — and the gods of artistry on the turf such as the Ronaldinhos. We tend to get carried away.

For results do matter and football is all about winning and losing like any other sport, all about getting the goal that matters, all about doing the so-called ``right things'' on the field. And art and beauty often take a beating when they do not translate as ``right things.''But, then, did Van Gogh worry about winning at a painting competition when he painted Sunflowers? Did Mozart think about winning at a music festival when he composed those great works of genius?

Indeed they did not. And, for many of us too, it would perhaps be irrelevant whether Brazil won or lost so long as we got to see those brush strokes of genius on a football field from its players.

The only problem is, in competitive sport, you don't get to play anymore when you lose. And this is the only reason that this writer, or any other connoisseur of the Beautiful Game, would want Brazil to keep winning in this World Cup.

Let's hear it one more time for Jogo Bonito. There isn't anything like it in the world of sport.

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