And the World Cup goes to.....

Being a Brazilian, you are taught to appreciate a soccer game from the moment you are born. Parents dress their babies in the colors of their favorite teams. Nowadays it is easier to find baby clothes, sheets, blankets, curtains, rugs, bedspreads, sneakers, etc. in the team colors and symbol.

Fathers are proud when their young choose to support the same team. Sometimes hell can break loose when the child dares to support a different team than his or her father. Some youngsters only do so when they reach an adult age and cannot be punished. (not so dramatic, but I have heard of some cases)

Although I grew up in the US, my story was not any different, except for the clothes and items mentioned. I remember my dad used to listen to some games over the radio. We lived in a small city in the northeast of the US where a lot of Portuguese immigrants lived. For this reason he could listen to games via the Portuguese radio station. That is where my ability to understand the radio announcer narrating a game sprouted. That was when I also learned about Pelé and the Cosmos. But especially learned to love and support my dad’s favorite team SPFC ( São Paulo Futebol Club).

When we returned to Brazil, dad and I used to watch our team’s games on TV together. We’d curse, scream, yell at the referees, and jump up and down when a goal was scored. However, throughout the years this changed due to our health. Really. Dad has a heart condition and I was just getting to nervous. That couldn’t be good. So, we would avoid watching the games. Nonetheless, we would always be informed about the results of the game on the following day. I remember calling my dad while on my honeymoon to scream that our team had won the Brazil National Cup during that period. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?

Anyhow, not watching SPFC play these days hasn’t changed. However, when Brazil plays that is a whole different deal, especially during the World Cup Matches. For these games my family gets together dressed in our yellow or green shirts ready to support the team. It is ninety minutes of cursing, screaming, jumping, making noise and a lot of food, which can’t be good for our health either.

This year the World Cup was held here in Brazil. It was to be something else. When our country was drawn four years ago, a lot of people cheered. However, as the event got closer riots started and some people did not want the Cup to happen, a bit too late in my opinion. I often ask myself why the riots did not happen four years earlier, right after we were selected.

Nonetheless the World Cup started on June 12^th.  The country stops to watch Brazil play in a World Cup. It has been like that as far as I can remember. It wouldn’t be any different this year that the Cup was being held in Brazil. There were days that people had off; some days where only half a day off was given. Changes had to be made in Sao Paulo because of the traffic jams. People were encouraged to watch the games near their jobs instead of heading home at noon. Schools were let out on vacation sooner than usual. People started decorating their windows with the Brazilian flag and the energy in the city was flowing really well. It seemed peaceful and as if everything were running smoothly. Although the media did not show anything but the good side, we know that that was not reality.

All was going well until the semi finals when Brazil lost to 7 to 1 to Germany. What a blow that was! I remember watching the players just standing there while Germany made the goals. I looked at my dad and recall asking him why they were just standing there. He just shrugged.

After this fiasco, we still got together to watch the last game Brazil played; they got 4^th place. It did not cheer us up especially because they were not playing well at all.

If only Brazilians had the same passion for other areas of the country, it would be the best country to live in. However, perfect is an abstract word.

Nonetheless, the World Cup goes to the best team: Germany.

(Written July 15, 2014) Todos os direitos reservados a Meire Marion.

 

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