BETTER THE DEVIL YOU KNOW
Brazil lost their capacity of winning
7/8/20263 min read
As expected, Brazil won’t be winning a sixth title this time around. To absolutely no one’s surprise, the team fell by the wayside once again. We could list various factors leading to yet another frustrating result for Brazilians—starting with the chaotic management at the CBF, the lack of organization in our football, the unprofessional way teams handle everything from youth scouting to operations, the corruption, and a host of other issues known to any well-informed person. The Brazilian national team embodies Einstein’s definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.
But that isn’t what I want to discuss here. While Brazilians mourn an early exit, Argentines are celebrating another gritty victory by their national team—a squad that was indeed a favorite. From the electrifying match against Cape Verde to the unthinkable comeback against Egypt, Argentina demonstrates that it possesses not only Messi—who actually missed a penalty early in the game—but also a quality that Brazilians increasingly lack: sheer drive.
The average Brazilian has lost that drive and accepts being a pawn for both the Right and the Left. The average professional in Brazil accepts poor working conditions or—worse yet—accepts unemployment, relying on government aid and blind faith. Brazilian fans view a 2–1 loss as a positive outcome, considering it could have been much worse—especially since the 7–1 thrashing revealed that we are just another ordinary national team. First, we stopped playing beautifully in order to win. Then, we stopped winning altogether. We used to lose while playing well; today, we lose while playing worse and worse.
The fear of defeat—and even the lack of hope for victory—has stripped Brazilians, across all sectors, of the desire to win. We settle for scraping by or even for defeat (something we already know how to handle) because we are unsure if we are capable of winning or what responsibilities victory might bring.
Argentine players, born in a developing nation amidst financial hardship, face virtually the same struggles as Brazilians. Messi is a prime example; he had to move to Barcelona because no team in Argentina was willing to cover the cost of his medical treatment. Yet his bond with the country is so strong that he chose to play for Argentina anyway. Patriotic sentiment prevailed. The question is: how many Brazilians would do the same?
The sentiment shared by players and the Brazilian public alike is unanimous: the national team jersey carries increasing weight—it is a difficult, stigmatized burden—yet the payoff is minimal. Getting it right is an obligation, while a mistake is fatal. Just ask Barbosa and Zico—two players who became symbols of Brazilian defeats. But don't think that’s why we lose. We lose because we’ve forgotten how to win. We let economic disparities speak the loudest, let admiration turn into fear, and allowed the desire to belong to erase our roots.
Brazil is no longer shocked by anything; it feels no outrage over scandals and never pauses to demand change. Protests have become mere street parties where the outcome doesn't matter. We want change, yet we settle for the crumbs.
In Brazil, beating the opponent isn't enough: you have to overcome the referee, the ball boy, the pitch, the crowd, the organizers, the rules, the weather, and the technology. Everything is rigged to go wrong. Everything is designed to make you throw in the towel. Winning isn't just an option; it’s an exercise in stubbornness. Brazilians aren't strong or resilient—they are stubborn.
It doesn't surprise me that the players are so apathetic; after all, their pockets are getting fatter thanks to ubiquitous betting apps and hundreds of unimaginative sponsors who confuse hiring a paid celebrity with a genuine testimonial. But the public isn't apathetic. Or is that windfall of handouts enough to live a prosperous life and dream big? For many, refusing to work for a pittance is becoming a better option than busting a gut for a miserable wage.
I don't think Brazil cares about winning anymore. 11th place is fine. A fleeting illusion is enough, because the end of the year and Carnival are just around the corner. And at any moment, there’s always a "Tiger Game," a betting app, or the Mega-Sena lottery to gamble on. While living the dream of striking it lucky in games of chance, life passes by and the country racks up scandals and shady deals, getting left in the dust by the rest of the world.
Of the BRICS nations, only Brazil remains the "country of the future." All the others are—for better or worse—doing their homework. But not Brazil. After all, who needs luck or hard work when God is Brazilian?