With its flamboyant game, its legendary cracks and its five world titles, Brazil has long been described as the “country of football”. But this status seems more and more threatened.
Pelé, Garrincha, Ronaldinho… These names were the dream of all football lovers. Today, the Seleçao is only a shadow of itself.
She hasn’t brought home the World Cup since 2002 and a whole generation of players has come along since the last Brazilian Ballon d’Or, won by Kaka in 2007.
“We are going through a slack period. Before, there were more high-level players,” Edinho, eldest son of “King” Pelé, recently told AFP.
Even President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva recognizes that Brazilian football “is no longer the best in the world.”
How did we get here?
Synthetic victory
“Brazilian football was born here,” proclaims this graffiti on a pedestrian bridge in Botago, Rio de Janeiro. / Pablo PORCIUNCULA / AFP
A first element of the answer can be found in the streets, increasingly deserted by budding footballers.
However, it was in alleys or vacant lots that cracks like Rivellino, Zico or Romario kicked their first balls.
“We no longer see kids playing in the street, we no longer hear windows breaking” after poorly measured shots, laments Lauro Nascimento, a 52-year-old amateur player for the Aurora club, in the north of Sao Paulo.
As a child, he broke several toes while playing barefoot on the dirt paths strewn with large stones in the Vila Aurora neighborhood. They gave way to tarmac streets.
Buildings were built on the vacant land where Lauro Nascimento also played wild games.
Children living in poor neighborhoods, where most of Brazil’s football stars come from, are finding it increasingly difficult to find places to play.
Mural to the glory of Brazilian football at the entrance to the “Morro de Babilonia favela” in Rio de Janeiro / Pablo PORCIUNCULA / AFP
According to an independent study from 2021, only a fifth of football schools in Brazil are free.
It is most often played on artificial turf, where it is easier to control a ball than on the irregular surfaces of vacant lots where many crack players have acquired their unique technical mastery.
“The passion for football still exists, but it is more difficult to practice it today,” summarizes Edson Nascimento, 57, president of the Aurora club.
Less profitable transfers
The fact that children play less football in Brazil “has a strong impact on our football”, estimates researcher Euler Victor.
“We have a lot of players playing in Europe, but few of them play leading roles,” he explains.
The last great Brazilian star, Neymar, shone for a few years, but his career was weighed down by injuries and controversies.
Hopes currently rest on Vinicius, 23, a twirling striker for Real Madrid, and the jewel Endrick, only 17, who will soon join him at the Spanish club.
Brazil remains the world’s leading exporter of footballers, but sales revenues have fallen sharply.
Fewer and fewer Brazilian children learn to play in the street, in difficult conditions which develop technical qualities. / Miguel SCHINCARIOL / AFP
Last year, 2,375 Brazilian players were transferred for an amount of $935.3 million, 19% less than the 1,753 transactions recorded in 2018, according to Fifa data.
This is particularly due to the fact that Brazilian nuggets like Endrick, Vinicius or Rodrygo are sold younger and younger in Europe, before their market value explodes when they confirm their potential by playing at the highest level.
“Mechanical”
The Brazilians are also struggling to stand out in an increasingly homogenous world football, where tactics often take precedence over individual technical quality.
“The technical level has dropped a lot (…). The style of play has changed and this evolution has ended up depriving our players of their creativity,” laments Victor Hugo da Silva. He trains children aged 7 to 10 on artificial turf in the football school that trained Vinicius, in Sao Gonçalo, a poor suburb near Rio de Janeiro.
“Our football, which exuded the joy of living, has become more mechanical,” he insists.
One of his students, Miguel, a nine-year-old goalkeeper, with hair bleached blond like Neymar, dreams of “joining the Flamengo training center”, the most popular club in Brazil.
Supporters of Flamengo and Vasco da Gama gathered to follow the carioca derby on a giant screen in the Pavao-Pavaozinho-Cantagalde favela Rio de Janeiro, February 4, 2024. / Pablo PORCIUNCULA / AFP
Victor Hugo da Silva does not question the passion of new generations. But he warns of new “difficulties” in training them, due to physical problems which he attributes, among other things, to the sedentary lifestyle of children “addicted” to video games.
Brazil has more mobile phones than people and 34% of the population aged five to 19 is overweight, according to the World Obesity Atlas.
“Before, we took children who had already played in the street. Now, they arrive without experience, without motor coordination, and this is reflected in their game,” explains the coach.
Regional supremacy
But Leila Pereira, president of Palmeiras, the two-time reigning national champion, assures that Brazil will “never” lose its title of “country of football”.
It was this Sao Paulo club that trained Endrick, sold for more than 60 million euros to Real, according to the local press.
“If there was really a drop in quality, we would not pay these astronomical amounts,” says Leila Pereira, one of the rare women at the head of a club in the world.
Aerial view of a field and a tent under which fans watch a match on a giant screen, in the Pavao-Pavaozinho-Cantagalà favela Rio de Janeiro / Florian PLAUCHEUR / AFP
Brazilian clubs display impressive supremacy in South American competitions, sweeping the last five Copa Libertadores trophies, including two won by Palmeiras.
The best teams in Brazil have financial means that allow them to attract talent from neighboring countries by offering them higher salaries.
But some supporters believe that clubs tend to cut themselves off from the working classes in the name of football business.
“By paying sky-high salaries to players, clubs have to sell tickets more expensively, and that prevents fans like me from going to the stadium,” laments David Santos. Living in a favela in Rio, he cannot afford to attend Flamengo matches at the Maracana, the temple of Brazilian football.
