Brazil Uncovered: A Footballing Pilgrimage

End of the Road

2006-01-09T21:32:00.000Z

After nearly two months of beach soccer, intense local games, carnival football and some insane local characters, its finally time for Doug and I to part ways and for Brazil Uncovered to come to an end. I intend to head off North in search of adventure on the Mighty Amazon, while Doug begins the long journey back down to Rio via the Pantanal and Southern states before his flight home.

From futvolley to futsal, from palm tree pitches to politics, football permeates every aspect of life in Brazil. And it is precisely that total coverage and infectious enthusiasm for the game that has overwhelmed and re-awakened us. Playing, watching and thinking about football is everything here. Its more than just a game, its a way of life.

Everytime you turn on the TV, everytime you turn a street corner, someone has something to say about football, and some are quite literally crazy about it! Meeting Fabinho the ball-juggler, Bernard, the Vasco hooligan, Mauro Shampoo and discovering our own friend Daniel´s Presidential ambitions were all highlights of our trip.

As for the games we went to see, the atmosphere was like nothing we´d ever witnessed before and left us pretty much in shock. The enthusiasm and passion which the fans maintain throughout the entire match is incredible and keeps you buzzing for the whole day, not just during the goals. The daredevil fans of Campinense Clube, the carnival game at Morumbi, and especially getting to see Romario play at Vasco were all fantastic experiences.

But if there was one thing in Brazil that really re-ignited our passion for football, it was actually playing the game here. Just walking down any street or beach in Brazil with a ball under your arm is enough to get you involved in a quick kickabout. Everyone wants to play from kiosk vendors to five-year old kids. Whether they speak English or not, football is itself an international language that brought us together with all kinds of people. All the games we played were special, but one in particular, a lazy kickabout on a golden beach in Maceio while a spectacular pink and red sunset lit the sky, will live long in the memory.

Thanks to all those that have been following our blog. We hope you enjoyed reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

Now we just have to get some tickets to the World Cup!

Cheers,

Dan and Doug

Ps. For anyone interested in reading an alternative Brazil blog, you can follow my semi-fictional adventures down the Amazon by clicking here. Cheers, Dan.

Campinense Conversion

2006-01-06T13:52:00.000Z

Despite the magnificence of Romario at Vasco, the success of Corinthians and the overwhelming support for Flamengo, none of these clubs have managed to kick my beloved Aston Villa out of bed. Indeed, with their recent run of form, it is almost as if they have been calling me back home to England to renew my love. How could I ever have doubted them?

However, while Villa will always be my first club, I stated that one of my objectives for this trip was to find myself a Brazilian club to support. And in Campinense Clube, I think I have found my team...

The most successful club in Campina Grande, Campinense have won the Paraiba State Championship an unbeaten 17 times, including a record straight 6 wins which they display proudly in the six gold stars on their shirt.

Since they only qualify for the National Leagues following years they finish in the top two of the State League, they are almost unknown in the rest of Brazil. However, their greatest moment came in 1972 when they finished Runners-Up in the Second Division. This is recognised with a silver star on the shirt. Unfortunately, they weren´t promoted to the top flight.

However, my real reason for supporting Campinense is not past glories, but the supporters; they are amongst the best I have met anywhere in Brazil. Regular readers will already know of their dare-devil efforts to erect the club flag at their new ground. Since it was put up, it has become a social venue with taxi drivers, children and local fans hanging around it at all times of day. The support for the local team here is nothing short of true passion.

After last year´s disappointing 4th place finish in the State League, Campinense had to build an entirely new team which they recently unveiled at their training ground. Despite the extortionate 5 real entry fee, the event amazingly attracted 5000 supporters!

The new team has already won its first three friendlies, all against superior opposition, and
with the new stadium on the way too, the season can´t come fast enough. This is a club built not on money or superstars but purely out of love for the beautiful game, which is exactly what we came to Brazil to find. Vamo Campinense!

Nb. To find out results of Campinense Clube´s games in this year´s Paraiba state league, click here.

Why do the Brazilians love football so much?

2006-01-04T12:40:00.000Z

Sitting down to reflect on our trip we tried to decide why it is that the Brazilians love football so much.

Most will agree that Brazil has the best players and the best team in the World, winning the World Cup more times than any other nation and currently having more representatives in the Champions League than any other nation. Thus, football has inevitably become a source of national pride and joy, something to give Brazil a conspicuous place in the World.

Of course, it is not enough to say that they love it because they are the best at it, so we were then faced with the question of why they are the best.

Firstly football is a game that is open to everyone regardless of age, race, wealth or social standing. Thus, as a game of the people, everyone has the opportunity to play and everyone can have the dream of making it as a professional player. For some, the simple chance to make money and escape poverty is probably incentive enough. For others, its a sport that can be enjoyed whenever and wherever.

Technically, the Brazilians are also considered the best in the World. We came up with a few ideas as to why this was: the of hours of beach soccer, futsal and futvolley, honing their skills in difficult conditions, their love for dance, samba and capoeira, giving them natural rhythm and flow to their game, and even the simple fact of their confident, happy natures enabling them to play with such gusto and freedom.

Yet despite all our rationalising as to why the Brazilians are so passionate about football, there is something more than that too, something unexplainable that gives them a special love for the game that you don´t find on the same scale anywhere else in the World...maybe its just in their blood.

New Season: New Team?

2005-12-23T11:04:00.000Z

A perfect Summer afternoon saw Campinense play their first friendly of the season against Division Two team, Picui. With their new stadium still unfinshed (apart from the flag!), they played at the Governor-owned Ernani Sátiro "O Amigão" stadium shared with local rivals Treze.

As the players ran out onto the pitch holding hands in the traditional Brazilian manner of unity, I asked my friend Daniel to point out his favourite players for me.

"I don´t know yet, this is the first time I´ve seen them play," he replied.

I was confused, I thought this was his beloved club. Surely he knew every players name, weight and Mother´s maiden name?

However, he explained that since they did so badly in last season´s State Championship, they had failed to qualify for the National Third Division (only the top two clubs do so). As a result, they hadn´t played a competitive match since last June and all their players had left for other clubs. This was a completely new team from back to front!

The game itself was played at a fairly leisurely pace, but despite this, plenty of goals flew in. Campinense fought back twice to equalise at 2-2 before scoring a penalty winner for a 3-2 victory.

Daniel wasn´t so impressed with the win over superior opposition. "They played badly, and the new striker is stupid," was his cutting post-match analysis.

I wasn´t quite so downbeat. After all, when I thought about the biting cold and snow back home, a lazy day watching lower division football in the sun was practically heaven.

Futsal

2005-12-19T21:32:00.000Z

On the day that Ronaldinho was crowned Fifa World Player of the Year, it seemed fitting that we should play the game which helped him to hone his immense talents: futsal.

The game is played between teams of 5 on a brightly-lit, indoor pitch. By using a smaller, heavier football, the skill level is increased ten-fold, with players able to pull off all manner of mind-boggling tricks and skills. Games are won by being the first team to score 2 goals, and last no more than 10 minutes each ...and at the speed they play, its just as well!

Doug and I both struggled initially with the pace and skill of the game as it raced on around us.
However, despite a few falls and nutmegs early on, we both managed to adjust quickly to the game. The heavy ball certainly helps dribbling since it practically sticks to your feet most of the time, but getting in the way of a shot is a lot more painful!

After an hour and a half of racing about, we were both thoroughly knackered. Still, we had managed some glory: Doug had fired in the winner for his team in one match, and a couple of goals from me had helped my team to go on an unbeaten streak of 3 straight games at the end. Even the huge blisters we both suffered couldn´t take the edge off that.

Campinense´s Grand Unfurling

2005-12-18T21:31:00.000Z

This afternoon saw the symbolic opening of Campinense Clube´s first ever stadium; the unfurling of the team flag.

Although the stadium is still only half built, a large crowd had still gathered outside to watch in awe as two fearless (some would say crazy) builders attempted to fix the 2 meter flag to its pole on the shabbiest scaffolding ever constructed. Only one guy was wearing a safety harness and neither of them had a hard hat on. Indeed, they were both dressed casually in shorts and flipflops.

They struggled with it for about an hour as the scaffolding swayed ominously in the wind, all of us expecting one of them to fall off before the flag was unfurled. Eventually though, as they pulled apart the scaffolding they were standing on, the red and black flag swept out into the dusk sky to the proud cheers of the crowd below. Brazilian fans: always prepared to risk death in support of their team.

Best League in the World?

2005-12-18T21:30:00.000Z

Sao Paulo´s victory in the World Club Championship this morning kicked off a small debate amongst us as to which League is the best in the World. The obvious candidates are the Spanish, Italian and English leagues, but with Sao Paulo as World Club Champions, should the Brazilian League be included in the debate too?
Admittedly, the European teams have all the best Brazilian players. Yet some of the football we had seen over the last few months had contained just as much skill and passion as any of the major European leagues and now they had proved themselves as World Club Champions.

Doug argued that the World Club Championship isn´t taken seriously in Europe, but while this may be true, it probably isn´t fair. It´s certainly taken seriously in Brazil as a chance to prove that their teams are every bit as good as the better promoted and better paid teams of Europe.

Perhaps another reason that South American leagues in general aren´t taken as seriously by Europeans is down to the rumours of corruption and scandal that inevitably devalue the teams. Still, with any luck, Brazilian teams are putting this behind them and futher, having now adopted the European League system (with the team with the most points winning the Championship) I think that European clubs should be giving a lot more respect to their South American counterparts and to the result of the World Club Championship.

The Brazilian League might not be the best in the World right now, but with continued sponsorship, the right media coverage and a shift in opinion, there´s no reason why it couldn´t challenge for the title in the future; it certainly has the potential.

The Everest Scandal

2005-12-17T21:28:00.000Z

This morning we travelled inland to Campina Grande to stay with Daniel, a Brazilian friend of mine whom I met working in England.

As soon as we arrived he whisked us off to his football team´s annual end-of-year Churrasco (BBQ), where not only were his team-mates enjoying themselves, but an entire community. Everyone from babies to Grandparents were gathered around a long, out-door table, knocking-back beers, eating piles of meat and shouting excitedly at each other. In comparison to the subdued and formal football evenings that usually happen in England, this was a lively, fun, family event.

The afternoon kicked off with a video of their annual friendly (although the tackles were anything but!) between rival fans of the two local teams in Campina, Treze and Campinense. This proved exciting as watching the actual game itself as the players leapt out of their seats to celebrate goals or argue fouls, running to the TV to organise action replays. I was pleased to see that my friend Daniel´s goal got the biggest celebration of all.

As is tradition for all end of year parties, next was the award ceremony. Daniel won a medal as second top-scorer and when he collected it made a short, rousing speech which had everyone chanting for him. I learned that due to his height, he had earned the nickname ´Everest´. I hadn´t realised he was such a good public speaker either.

It became clear next, however, that Daniel was campaigning for votes, as the next event of the afternoon was to decide the next Vice-President of the team. Daniel had even made up hilarious flyers displaying himself in regal pose alongside the slogan "The tall man for Vice-President!". His opponent, Ricardo, a weasly fellow in pink had barely said a word all afternoon, despite hanging around near the microphone. I had no doubt who would win.

However, when the votes came to be counted, ´Everest´ only got 12, to Ricardo´s 18. Daniel was outraged and stepped up to the microphone shouting "I can´t believe 18 of you could be so stupid!". It was all done in good humour though, since the Vice-President doesn´t actually do anything at the club, meaning the vote was more of a popularity contest than anything.

Still, as the forro band began to play, I questioned Daniel as to why he´d lost when everyone so clearly seemed to love him.

"Oh, the other guy paid people 10 reais each to vote for him," he told me.

He didn´t seem too bothered by this, as though a bit of corruption was perfectly normal. I guess if it goes on at the top level of football and politics in Brazil, as it did for many years, its inevitable that it will filter down.

Mauro Shampoo

2005-12-14T22:54:00.000Z

As Captain of the ill-fated Ibis FC, Mauro Shampoo achieved the dubious fame of being put in the Guinness Book of World Records as the Worst Football Team Ever after failing to win a game for 3 straight seasons. Curiously, by combining his passion for football with his passion for hairdressing he has become somewhat of a national celebrity since retiring, appearing on several TV shows, news programs, magazines and of course in Futebol: A Brazilian Way of Life . Today, we made the quest to downtown Recife to seek out this eccentric legend of Brazilian football.

Nervously stumbling into his salon, we couldn´t see anyone who resembled the moustachioed, grinning face that appeared in the hundreds of photos plastered all over the walls and doors. When suddenly in walked a man in an unconvincing Father Christmas suit and introduced himself as Mauro Shampoo.

He explained that he wore the suit all through December, and for the rest of the year wore only his Ibis football kit; studs and all. We sat down with a cup of coffee to watch a compilation video of his television appearances while he tended to his customers.

Afterwards, he was eager to show us his wide collection of memorabilia detailing both his Ibis career and that of a celebrity hairdresser cutting the occasional Brazilian footballers barnet. We were amiably introduced to his customers, friends and even his wife who runs a female salon in the same shopping centre.

Doug was even brave enough to get a haircut!

All in all, Mauro couldn´t have lived up to our expectations any more. He clearly revels in the attention he receives and is adored by those around him. By his own admission, he certainly is one of a kind. Mauro Shampoo: hairdresser, footballer and man.

Maceio

2005-12-10T22:33:00.000Z

We´ve just spent the last three days living the Brazilian dream in Maceio. This basically involved, lying on the beach and swimming in emerald waters all day, playing football in the early evening while the sunset hung in the sky, then feasting on all you can eat bbq and dancing the samba until the early hours.

Finally, we managed to realise our goal of playing a proper game with the locals. Every night on the beach, teams of 5 or 6 would take their own mini-goals down to the shore and play until the light was completely gone.

Watching for a while we were a little in awe of some of the crazy skills on display, but playing in the games was a different story. Doug and I managed to hold our own, even earning the occasional cry of Beleza! (Beautiful!) when beating a couple of men. Unfortunately, since we were always on opposing teams, we couldn´t yet achieve our dream of beating the Brazilians at their own game.

Over the 3 days we also noticed another trend. While most of the players here had incredible individual talent, their understanding of the team game was sorely lacking. It becomes a little frustrating when your team mates try and beat everyman on the pitch to score a wonder goal every time they get the ball. This was most evident in the younger players in the game.

After chatting with the friendly owner of the local internet cafe, we discovered that the football infrastructure in the poorer North-East of Brazil wasn´t as good as that of their wealthier cousins down South. As a result, while kids were able to develop flair and ball-skills on the beach, this wasn´t consolidated by tactical knowledge and team work that players need to really make it as professionals. Perhaps this goes some way to explaining why the teams in the North of Brazil have been less successful.

The Season Finale

2005-12-05T13:57:00.000Z

In order to know exactly what was going on in all the vital last day fixtures, we decided to have a chilled afternoon watching the games on TV with a few beers.

I was secretly hoping that Internacional would win after learning about all the match fixing scandals that ended up with Corinthians replaying 2 games they´d lost and gaining another 4 points, meaning they technically should have been one point behind Internacional at the start of play.

As it turned out, with Coritiba taking an early lead against Internacional there was little drama to be had. Corinthians won the title despite their 3-2 loss at Goias, Inter finished second and Coritiba went down. Indeed, the only excitement of the afternoon was that Romario scored 2 penalties to make him the league´s leading goalscorer.

To cheer ourselves up, we rounded up some folk in the hostel and headed down to floodlit Barra beach for a game of beach soccer. England v an International team comprising a Mexican, an Italian and a Spaniard. With the rain pouring down, and the pitch being partially submerged by waves every couple of minutes, conditions were not ideal and we conceded 2 quick goals. A Doug thunderbolt off the post looked to have put us back in it, before we fell to another 2 goals. The tough Italian defence was proving difficult to beat and the pitch was getting worse with play.

However, as the tide started to come in, we realised that the waves were smoothing out one side of the pitch, and by timing our attacks correctly we could race down the line without obstruction. Our team-mate Josh scored a classic solo goal, then he and I completed a neat one-two before I megged the keeper for 4-3. Finally, from a corner, Josh smashed a Tony Yeboah-esque volley into the roof of the goal from my knock down. 4-4.

With everyone pretty knackered, we called next-goal-wins, and after a period of frantic play, Doug poked the ball through to me to score the winner. Goooool!!

Ecstatic at our first win on foreign soil (well, sand) we resolved that next time we had to take on the ultimate challenge, the Brazilians!

Road Trippin´

2005-12-03T18:37:00.000Z

After taking the cheap flight to Salvador in the middle of the night, we decided to get straight on the road by hiring a car and heading South towards the beach resort of Porto Seguro, 800kms away.

Even in remote areas alongside the highway we managed to find football everywhere. Most towns we drove through had kids playing on dusty pitches or on the roadside. Perhaps the most spectacular though was a partially flooded pitch on the banks of Rio Jequitinhohna. We watched from the bridge as 20 kids played a competitive match, gleefully taking it in turns to throw themselves into the river when the ball inevitably flew in.

We spent a few days recovering from the long road trip in Porto Seguro, before taking a more leisurely journey back towards Salvador via Ilheus, Itacare and the incredibly picturesque Morro de Sao Paulo.
One evening, just outside the port town of Valenca, we drove past a huge roadside crowd of around 300 cheering and shouting around a high, wire fence. Stopping to find out what was going on, we found ourselves watching the local tournament where teams play 5-a-side games on cordoned off, sand pitches. Chatting to some locals, we discovered that the game currently being played had finished all square and that they were playing the playground rule of ´next-goal-wins´. Excitedly, we found ourselves a decent spot to watch the action.

The furious pace of the game immediately showed that neither team wanted to lose as they raced around, tackling hard and shooting harder. Suddenly, the striker on the White team looked to have got free, only to be hacked down by a Yellow defender: Penalty! The striker picked himself up and smashed the ball past the keeper before running away from the screaming mob of his teammates into the corner of the pitch for the ubiquitious pile-on.

The Yellow team, clearly enraged by the penalty decision surrounded the referee, viciously berating him. As he tried to walk away, another guy in an orange vest(who we later learned was their Coach) came racing onto the pitch going completely wild. The next thing we know the police appear and people start running in all directions. For a moment it looks as though it could all turn nasty with the crowd getting caught up in the heat of the moment, but it quickly dies down and the Yellow Coach is marched away by the police.

We drove away unable to believe just how much excitement and adrenaline had been created over a local 5-a-side game. Clearly winning was every bit as important as playing beautiful football.

Corinthians v Ponta Preta

2005-11-30T21:11:00.000Z

A ridiculous detour from Ilha Grande via Rio by private car then luxury coach saw us arrive in Brazils largest metropolis Sao Paulo. We blended seemlessly into the amazingly diverse 18 million strong population.

We had negated several travelling companions advice to give the big city a miss on the premise that we wanted to see the mighty Corinthians attempt to take the title with one match to spare.
Rumour had it that the 70,000 available tickets had all been sold. Hardly suprising considering the overwhelmingly passionate fan base of the samba school (hard core fan group) and its 15 millon other supporters dotted around Brazil´s vast expanse.

With a spring in our step fresh from an interesting night sampling some of Sao Paulo´s excellent nightlife we decided to taxi it down to the ground hoping to pick up an elusive ticket or 3. Our good friend Dave had joined us on our trip, and was about to experience his first ever live football match globally! What a match to pick!

Some legendary negotiating skills by Dan and his pigeon portuguese saw us land 3 tickets for only double the standard asking price. We were in! A resounding shout of Cooooooome on!, was drowned out by one of the insanely loud fire crackers being unleashed by the ecstatic Corinthians fans jumping about like kids at play school.

In a attempt to blend in we decided to purchase one of the many ridiculous hats available from street vendors trying to make a fast buck.
We realised the error of this when walking into the ground to find a suitable viewpoint. The mainly half naked, tattoed testosterone fuelled males all seemed to turn in our direction, whilst pointing, shouting and uttering phrases in slurred portuguese, wearing wooly hats in 30C searing heat probably wasn´t the best choice of head gear! Slightly intimidated by this we feverishly looked around to find a suitable spot, and were drawn in by 5 fans standing at the front beconing for us to come over. After an exchange of high fives and handshakes, and small talk about where we were from and who we supported, attentions started to focus on the match in hand, and the obvious excitment that today Corinthians could be crowned champions of the national league once more.

We were now nestled in the thick of the crowd in the amorphous mass of sweaty bodies, ready to salute our team as they ran out the tunnel infront of 70,000 adoring / obsessive fans. Black and white balloons now filled the stadium, representing the colours of the home side.
Huge banners started to appear over large sections of the crowd from nowhere. The largest and most spectacular, over the hard core fans. A banner which requires a staggering 100 people to carry it in and out of the stadium!

...And then the crowd start stamping their feet and going wild even more so than before...the team start filing out of the tunnel, bending down to pick up a blade of grass and cross themselves across the chest before waving to the delirious fans. The biggest explosion imaginable then echoes round the ground. For a stunned couple of seconds I fear for the lives of the people on the opposite side of the ground, but then quickly realise this is a planned part of the extravagant build up as black and white streamers swirl around the ground. I dont envy the people who had the mamoth task in the post match clean up operation.

The debate for Dave our virgin top flight football attendee was to whether the crowd shenannigans or the match itself was the more entertaining! I had to agree with him to some extent, that the spectacle and carnival atmosphere of the people was more memorable and event than the football itself. In many ways, for many the game serves as a side show, with key moments serving as a trigger to go wild, release any inner frustrations and grab the nearest person to you and lift them into the air like a trophy! Dave had first hand experience of this when Corinthians Gustavo Nery volleyed a nice equaliser into the top corner just before the break to cancel out an early crowd silencing header by the Ponta Preta forward Everton. (Being a Liverpool fan, this made me dislike Ponta Preta even more!)

The second half carried on in the same vein of energy, a 1-1 draw looking more and more likely, the first half Tevez missed penalty looking more and more crucial.......Then in the 90th minute, a Corithinas freekick placed on the right hand side of the area a decent 30 yards out was lashed in by Coehlo. .......................................GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!! Beer, water, sweat flying everywhere, at least 5 new friends were made instantly, as everyone hugged each other in sheer joy. What timing.

The team were now on a complete high feeding off each other in complete harmony, this served to rub salt into Ponta Preta volley when 60 seconds later deep into injury time an audacious 25 yard drive by Carlos Alberto found the top corner of the net! 3-1...........Now we waiting on the Inter result. Unfortunately for Corinthians, they too had won, so, despite todays thrilling victory, the real celebrations would have to be postponed for another week.

Beach Soccer

2005-11-28T19:14:00.000Z

After a few half-hearted kick arounds with kids on the beach, it was time for us to get involved in a proper game. Signing up for an inter-hostel match, we headed down to Copacabana for the match of the decade, Mellow Yellow v. Che Legarto.

We found a decent floodlit pitch with nets down on the beach and kicked off a thrilling 6-a-side match. Just two minutes in, I set up our big Irish striker, Rob, for an early lead, then tapped in myself to make it 2-0. This was going to be a walkover.

But after 10 minutes of running around in heavy sand, we were all sweating and panting heavily. How do the Brazilians play on this stuff?! One of the Aussie lads decided he´d had enough and wandered off back to the hostel. Che Legarto quickly came back into it, scoring 4 goals in quick succession as we struggled with a man down.

Doug was forced to come off the bench, where he was kicking back taking photos, and for a while it looked as though we would recover when he scored twice. Unfortunately, his goals were matched by Che Legarto, and the game finished 6-4. A disappointing first game, but at least we´d be fitter and more used to the sand for next time!

Maracana

2005-11-26T21:10:00.000Z

Despite the Maracana being closed for renovations for the Pan American games in 2007, we couldn´t leave Rio without paying a visit to the biggest football stadium in the World.

After spending 20 minutes standing in the footprints of the great players on the sidewalk of fame, we were picked up by young Jorge, who took us on a tour of the stadium and gave us a brief history.

The Maracana was originally built for the 1950 World Cup, where the largest-ever recorded crowd (nearly 200 000) saw Brazil tragically lose 2-1 to Uruguay in the final. The national stadium has played host to some unforgettable football achievements, including Pele´s 1000th goal, and has also welcomed the Rolling Stones, Frank Sinatra and even the Pope over the years.

We were particularly interested in learning that the name Maracana comes from two words in the Tupi indigenous language: ´Maraca´, meaning ´rattle´, and ´Na´, meaning ´like´, referring to the terrific sound and atmosphere generated by the cheering fans, bugles and drums.

Unfortunately, with much of the stadium being rebuilt, we weren´t able to visit the locker-rooms or go onto the pitch. Taking a lift up to the top floor, we did get to look out onto the ground, but it was left to our imagination to wonder just what how incredible it would have been to have actually witnessed a match here.

Feeling a little disappointed, we were cheered up by the wonderful ball skills of the ever-smiling Marcio in front of one of the executive boxes as he made juggling a football, a tennis ball and even a golf ball look effortlessly easy.

We were challenged to keep a tennis ball up 10 times on our heads, but despite Doug´s very respectable score of 7, it never really looked like happening.

There is certainly a special buzz about the Maracana. The sheer size of the ground is awe inspiring in itself. Hopefully we´ll be able to come back to watch a game one day and experience it in all its glory.

Football fundamentalists

2005-11-24T10:44:00.000Z

Having enjoyed myself so much last time at the San Januario, I had no qualms about going to watch another Vasco game on Sunday. Thanks to the kind assistance of our hostel, Mellow Yellow, we headed to the ground hoping for more Romario goals and Vasco passion.

With nothing really at stake in the game, it wasn´t surprising that only a rather small crowd had decided to show up. There were certainly a lot less fans than at the Fluminese game. But the Vasco drummers were as enthusastic as ever, and as the rain started to pour down, everyone surged backwards for shelter creating a quite a decent atmosphere for kick off.

The first half was entertaining and fairly open as Vasco dominated a poor Paysandu team. Romario was hoping to catch up with the league´s leading scorer, Paysandu striker Robson, and should have opened the scoring after just 5 minutes when a defender completely missed a right wing cross, but despite having time to steady himself, he shot straight at the keeper. He wasted an ever better chance midway through the half when he missed a penalty. The teams went in at half time goal-less.

The game roared into life in the second half however as Diego fired in, following a Morais cross. Morais scored then scored a stunning long-range second goal to put Vasco 2-0 up, before Romario beat the keeper in the area to put the game out of sight in just 7 second half minutes. The rest of the match was pretty much a formality, and was finished off in style with a second Romario goal three minutes from time, taking him to within one goal of Robson. There hadn´t quite been the excitement and tension of the last Vasco game, but we´d certainly enjoyed some fantastic goals.

As the crowd started to disperse, I looked up to see a huge Vasco fan making his way towards me shouting, ´Hey, you!´.

It turned out that he had recognised the Aston Villa shirt I was wearing and was a massive fan himself. Introducing himself as Bernard, he explained that he had studied for a while in England and went to see Villa v Blackburn in 1999. He´d even bought a Villa shirt for his baby daughter when she was born (along with a Vasco one of course) !

After comparing Dwight Yorke and Juan Pablo Angel for 5 minutes he revealed that he was one of the directors for the Vasco da Gama hooligans. I was slightly taken aback by this since he seemed like such a nice guy and asked if they should maybe refer to themselves as ´hardcore fans´instead. In a matter-of-fact manner he replied that they arranged all the guns and fights for away games so they actually were hooligans.

I also questioned him about the provacative imagery used by Brazilian clubs for their flags and emblems. Vasco hooligans use Eddie the Zombie from Iron Maiden, while I had also seen Flamengo´s fans waving flags with the ice-mask of Jason from the horror movie Friday 13th. Further, at the game today we had seen several people wearing an extremely graphic t-shirt displaying a girl in a Flamengo t-shirt fellating a Vasco fan.

Bernard explained that the various hooligan groups had come into fruition 15 years ago, when violence was much more prevalent. Vasco had many Iron Maiden fans at the time and thus chose Eddie. The bassist from the band had even come to a game when Iron Maiden played in Brazil!

He also told me that the societies are actually recognised by the clubs and get into games for just 1 Brazilian Reais (about 25p). Indeed, these were the fans that were the heart of the crowd, bringing banners, flags and drums and keeping the atmosphere going throughout the game. Yet they were also responsible for causing much of the trouble outside the stadium, precisely because of the fervence of their support. These were the fans that were prepared to actually live and die for their club.

I thanked Bernard for the conversation, but left the ground feeling slightly confused about the destructive nature of his total obsession for football. I wanted to re-gnite my passion for the game, but fundamentalism of any kind is clearly a dangerous thing.

Copacobana beach

2005-11-23T10:02:00.000Z

When Doug finally arrived, the first thing we did was head down to Copacobana with the football. Just walking along with a ball in hand is enough to get you a game. Immediately we had several kids running around us wanting to play. Despite being only about 9 or 10 years old, they easily managed to run circles around us, mesmerising us with their dancing feet. One kid even nutmegged me! After that the pride kicked in and we used the fact that we were twice as big as them to keep the ball between us, but they seemed to enjoy being swung around and pushed over just as much. They were happy just to play.

Once they had completely tired us out, we headed further up
the beach where we stumbled across a game of footvolley, where four lithe, tanned players in unfeasibly tight shorts were keeping a football up over a volleyball net. This wasn´t a friendly bit of beach entertainment though, this was serious sport. All the players were fiercely competitive, fighting every point. One unbelievable rally lasted a good couple of minutes as the players threw everything into retrieving lost balls with diving stretches and overhead kicks. Unsurprisingly, quite a large crowd had gathered to watch the game while soaking up the sun.

Young and old, everyone on the beach is either playing or watching football. Its where children first kick a ball and develop their skills and the older players can hone their talents, get some exercise, or just show off!

Fabinho

2005-11-21T17:49:00.000Z

Strolling down the Copacobana, football is everywhere you look. From kids playing on the beach, to street hawkers trying to sell football shirts and flags.

Up on the main street, I was accosted by a young guy in full Brazilian kit to watch his football show. Encouraging me to get out my camera to build up a crowd, he proceeded to do keepy-ups with an egg, a coconut, and then even a pink ball-bearing. It wasn´t just a matter of keeping the object in the air though, he was the complete showman, striking poses while balancing with the ´ball´ on his feet, neck and even under his shirt, swallowing the ball-bearing then spitting it out, and pretending to head the heavy coconut before feigning at the last second. I was amazed at how easy he made everything look. This was real entertainment!

We chatted briefly after his performance and he told me his name was Fabinhno, and that he came down to the beach everyday to display his silky skills. This was his main job. His dream is to go and perform his show in Europe, and with that sort of talent, I told him that I didn´t see why not. Football dreams seem to be what Brazil is all about.

Flamengo, the Brazilian Man U?

2005-11-20T17:45:00.000Z

With Doug still trapped in the UK and the tour guide, Paolo, an ex-member of the Flamengo Youth set up, I decided to go to the Flamengo v Fortaleza game with the hostel once again.

En route, Paolo told me how Flamengo were the best supported and as a result most hated team in Brazil. The team of the people, they usually played their games in the fabulous Maracana. However, while it´s under renovation for the 2007 Pan American games they find themselves playing way out of the city in the hastily built Arena Petrobras.

The wider streets leading into the ground made for much easier access, but it lacked the fervent atmosphere of the Vasco Fluminese derby. Flamengo´s recent good form had taken them out of the relegation zone, but this was still an important game to secure their safety for next year.

Entering the stadium, I was faced with a huge, and rather unsteady looking scaffolding stand. These temporary monstrosities made up three sides of the ground, with a simple concrete grandstand completing it. In comparison to the Vasco ground, this felt crude and ugly. We took our seats in a central position behind the Flamengo goal and settled down with a flat beer and a soggy burger courtesy of Bob´s Burger.

However, despite my initial reservations, once the game kicked off I was enthralled by the superior quality of football. While the Rio derby had been all bluster and passion, but with no flow, Flamengo were playing fast, attacking football. Players weren´t as concerned about beating their man every time, and shifted the ball quickly and skillfully up the field.

Fortaleza were being overwhelmed as Flamengo created several early chances, pumping up the crowd until the stand was shaking, literally. It was only a matter of time before the first goal went in. Flamengo´s star striker Ramirez showing quick thinking to turn in a scuffed long range free kick from the penalty spot. Souza scored their second goal came just a few minutes later courtesy of an exquisite left footed free kick, chipped over the wall with just a one step run up. Goal number three quickly followed when the left winger burst into the box beating two defenders and firing in a powerful cross shot. The keeper was only able to parry the ball into the path of the onrushing Ramirez who duly roofed it for his second.

By half-time, it looked as though the game could turn into a rout and with the atmosphere reaching fever pitch, I was excited by the prospect of more goals.

Unfortunately, the second half was something of a disappointment. Fortaleza made a game out of it by playing some neat attacking football, but they were let down by some woeful finishing. Flamengo too, stepped off the pace and were content to sit back for the rest of the game. In turn, the atmosphere amongst the fans gradually died down until we were all pretty much silent. Thus, despite a great first half, I left feeling slightly deflated.

Reflecting on the game on the bus home, I couldn´t help but feel that Flamengo reminded me of a certain Premiership team; they wear red shirts, play fast attacking football and are well supported by capricious fans who only sing when they´re winning...Man United of course! Flamengo might have some great players, play exciting football and have the Maracana as their home ground, but as much as I´d like to overcome my prejudices, I just can´t support the Brazilian equivalent of Man U. Sorry Paolo!

Romario lives!

2005-11-19T03:12:00.000Z

After 20 testing hours of airports, planes and buses (including a best forgotten incident where the sleeping Frenchman next to me mistook me for his Brazilian girlfriend) I finally arrived at my Copacobana hostel.

As I was filling in the form, the receptionist looked strangely at me and asked, "Do you want to be Ronaldo?"

How could she know my secret already? Was it that obvious?

"What?" I mumbled, astonished.

"Your locker...is Ronaldo ok?" she said.

It turned out that my dorm name was ´Futebol´and all the lockers were named after Brazilian heroes. Not just a reference to my blistering turn of pace then, but fitting all the same for a trip of this nature.

With Doug stuck in England due to unforeseen passport problems, and still feeling a little jet-lagged, I decided to take the easy route to my first game and signed up for the hostel tour to the local Rio derby, Vasco da Gama vs Fluminese.

Vasco´s stadium is located just north-east of the Maracana, hidden amongst dirty back alleys and grey buildings. Hundreds of fans and about as many street vendors swarmed excitedly through the streets. Feeling quite self-conscious in search a large group of tourists (about 30 of us after we´d hooked up with another hostel) I kept my back to the stadium and attempted to absorb the sweaty, dusty atmosphere.

On the ground were stationed not only the regular police, but the armed military police and even the fire brigade. A huge charging crowd of Vasco fans seemed to be doing laps of the ground. A helicopter swept in low to observe them, the police hanging out of the side with huge guns in hand. This was of course greeted with a deafening roar and a sea of middle digits.

Despite all the protection however, I didn´t feel too intimidated and began casually chatting with some fans about the history of the club and its players. They told me how Vasco were the first team to really use black players despite heavy discrimination at the time. As for today, with Fluminese still chasing the title, Vasco were hungry to spoil their chances of glory. They were all but safe from relegation themselves, but local derbies always stir up cup final like emotions, and this one was no different.

Asking who I should look out for in the Vasco team, I was surprised to learn that at 39, Romario was still in the starting line up. In fact since he had returned to his home-team, he had been a revelation, winning the prestigious Golden Ball in 2000, and was their top scorer this season with 17 goals. Along with Hagi and Baggio, Romario had been one of my favourite players at USA 1994, and here I was about to see him play!

Inside the ground, I was immediately struck by the strong smell of urine, which I quickly realised we were actually walking in when I saw a number of fans relieving themselves against the walls. Just as well I hadn´t worn my flip flops then.

The stadium itself is shaped like a horse-shoe, opening out onto a fantastic view of Corcovado. Standing right behind the goal, we were in the perfect postion. The fans on my left were already going crazy, jumping up and down, waving huge flags and t-shirts to the accompaniement of a thumping drum beat. Romario was about to kick the game off and I couldn´t wipe the smile off my face.

The game got off to a thrilling start when Vasco broke down the pitch and won a 5th minute penalty, duly converted by who else but Romario. The crowd went into ecstasy; a huge banner was spread across the entire left stand from top to bottom, beer was thrown in the air, tears were shed.

Fluminese began to come back into the game, flashing several shots wide to the relief of the crowd. I was mesmerised by the deft touches and flicks shown by every player on the pitch. Even the centre backs seemed to be incredibly skilled.

The crowd was never silent, not for a second. They seemed to have an infinte number of chants and ways of support: flags of all sizes, firecrackers, banners, balloons. The party just kept on going, feeding off the game and getting faster and more excitable with every Vasco attack.

With 2 minutes to go, a terrible challenge by the Fluminese centre back resulted in a red card, which recieved a bigger roar than anything that went before it. And with his marker gone, Romario took full advantage to race clear in injury time and poke the ball under the keeper´s body to seal the match. In that moment, you couldn´t help but get carried away on the wave and I found myself jumping around wildly and embracing my new found friends. Here was the passion and excitement I had been searching for. This was what I had experienced as a boy, I thought. This was what got me hooked in the first place.

As the players left the pitch, one of the Vasco fans asked me where my shirt was. I hadn´t bought one yet I told him. Vasco da Gama were no doubt a great team. Their stadium had a fantastic view, the fans were so passionate and friendly that they made me feel one of their own and they have Romario up front! But this was the first game I´d been to in Brazil. Giving allegiance to Vasco right away would be tantamount to marrying the first girl I met. I needed to see some more games first, but for now, Vasco were top of the list.