Is Brazil still the country of football?

At the stroke of ‘nice game’, ‘cracks’ legendary players, inexhaustible talent and five world titles, Brazil earned the reputation of “football country”. But does the land of ‘King’ Pelé still deserve this nickname?

If once the world surrendered at the feet of the mischievous and daring game of the eternal 10, as well as Garrincha and Ronaldinho Gáucho, the current ‘Canarinha’ is highly criticized for being unable to bring home the World Cup since 2002 and the Ballon d’Or since 2007 with Kaká.

“We are experiencing a decline. Before we had more high-level athletes”Edinho, eldest son of the late Pelé, recently told AFP.

The crisis does not escape President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva either, who recognizes that his country “he no longer plays the best football in the world.”

What happened to what was Brazil’s calling card since the first world conquest, in 1958?

First of all, street football, from which many Brazilian legends such as Rivellino, Zico and Romário came from, is on the verge of disappearance.

Children and young people no longer play ball as they did for decades, until the sun set on beaches, muddy fields and pastures.

“There is no one playing in the streets anymore. “You don’t hear stories about a hit by a ball that broke the glass of the neighbor’s house,” laments Lauro Nascimento, in the middle of a match for his amateur club, Aurora, in the north of Sao Paulo.

Barriers in the city

As a child, this 52-year-old financial sector worker broke several of his toes playing barefoot on dirt and stone streets in his Vila Aurora neighborhood.

But now the streets of this neighborhood are paved and two buildings were built in the pasture where they also fought.

“Before, any free space was enough to make football an initiation. Today they are seen as excellent land to build on,” points out sports historian Aira Bonfim, for whom urban insecurity has also kept young people from practicing the ‘king’ sport.

Stained by saffron mud and with his blue-blue uniform, Nascimento plays in one of the few “várzeas” (orange earth pastures) that survive in the north of Sao Paulo in the middle of the gray of the cement.

For this battered plot of grass and orange dirt, he and his friends pay 160 dollars a month.

Having to pay also represents a barrier for the lower classes, historical breeding grounds for the best players.

Poor children are at the mercy of going through free soccer schools (barely one in five is free, according to a 2021 independent study), at school or in social projects.

And many times on synthetic grass, which requires less effort than irregular fields, whose surfaces are considered key to developing the coveted Brazilian technique.

A tour of the noisy and populated Brazilian capitals is enough to confirm the absence of balls.

“The passion for football still exists, but it is an activity that is not so easy to practice today,” summarizes Edson Nascimento, 57, president of Aurora.

From cheerful to mechanical

The fall of the practice has “a very strong impact on our football”maintains researcher Euler Victor. “We have a gigantic generation of Brazilians playing in Europe, but very few protagonists”Add.

The last great exponent, Neymar, shone with the Barcelona shirt but his image has faded amid controversies and injuries.

Hopes are currently placed on Vinícius Jr, Real Madrid attacker, and the very young Endrick, 17 years old, about to emigrate from Palmeiras to the merengue team.

Brazil remains the main exporter and producer of soccer players, but receives less money for its sales.

In 2023, US$935.3 million were paid for 2,375 Brazilians, 19% less than what was paid for the 1,753 negotiated in 2018, according to FIFA reports.

The decline can be explained by the boom in free agent signings or the early sales of players to Europe (younger, cheaper).

But also due to the difficulty of finding stars that differentiate themselves in an increasingly homogeneous football, which prioritizes tactics based on the European model.

“The technical level dropped a lot (…) The style of play changed and that evolution has ended up taking away some of the creativity from our players. As a result, our football, which used to be more cheerful, has become more mechanical,” says Victor Hugo da Silva.

Physical difficulties

At the Flamengo school where Vinícius Jr was trained, in Sao Gonçalo, near Rio de Janeiro, Da Silva trains children between seven and ten years old on a synthetic grass field.

Two colorful giant posters with images of the attacker observe the practice as the hot Rio afternoon falls.

The goalkeeper Miguel, nine years old, has his hair dyed blonde, like Neymar. “My dream? Playing in the minor divisions of Flamengo,” he says.

Da Silva does not question the passion of the new blood for the most popular sport. But he warns of “difficulties” in training them due to physical delays that he attributes to inactivity and “vice” to electronic devices.

In Brazil there are more cell phones than the 203 million inhabitants and 34% of the population between five and 19 years old is overweight or obese, according to the 2024 World Atlas of Obesity.

“Before you took a child and he had already played in the street, so you gave him continuity in education and motor skills. Not now, many come very raw, without experience, without didactics, without motor coordination, and that is also reflected in the game,” says the coach.

And yet…

Robson Zimerman spends his days observing young aspiring defenders of Sao Paulo’s Corinthians.

Today’s promises, he warns, face greater pressures: from market demands, such as being multifunctional, to dealing with high family and media expectations.

“Before they only had to worry about playing,” explains the scout.

However, for the president of Palmeiras de Sao Paulo, Leila Pereira, Brazil will “never” lose the title of “soccer country.”

His ‘Verdão’ has been the protagonist of the dominance of Brazilian teams in South America and in their ranks he created Endrick, for whom Real Madrid paid 65 million dollars with bonuses, according to the press.

Other youth players from Palmeira, Estevão and Luis Guilherme, promise to follow in their footsteps.

“I disagree with those who see a drop in quality. If they are paying those astronomical values…”, says Pereira in a club room, decorated with trophies and immaculate boots.

Party in the favela

The board, one of the richest women in Brazil, is for many the face of modern Brazilian football, with enviable checkbooks for South America and record attendances in the stadiums… at the expense of the less well-off.

“With absurd salaries for the players, the clubs have to charge a high price for income, which alienates fans like me, devotees of the Maracaná,” deplores David Santos, a fan of Flamengo, the most popular team in Brazil.

The price of tickets for the recent final of the Carioca Championship, in which ‘Fla’ defeated a fourth division squad, ranged between 20 and 118 dollars, in a country where the minimum wage is equivalent to 279 dollars.

But the passion does not cease: to support his beloved eleven from the favelas of Cantagalo, Pavão and Pavãozinho, Santos founded the “Fla PPG” bar in 2019.

At the top of the hill that watches over the beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema, they recreate the atmosphere of the South American temple when ‘Mengão’ plays, like on this warm February Sunday against Vasco da Gama from Rio.

They decorate an old soccer field with flags, have barbecues, sing songs, drink beer and broadcast the games on a giant screen. And they even share with fans of the rival team.

“The country of football is being lost,” says Pablo Igor, a 38-year-old Basque native. “Football is this here, the people, the street kids. And these street kids, like me, no longer have access to the ‘king’ sport.

It may interest you