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Canadian Joe Raso
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SALVADOR DALLY
By Gareth Phillips
The battered little taxi slowly chugs up the steep hill over the badly made road. Larger vehicles overtake impatiently. Frankly, most pedestrians could leave us trailing at our present speed, which is a little disconcerting given the surroundings. We sit inside the taxi sealed off from the world outside the window. A world of run down housing, of unmade dust roads and shanties constructed from corrugated iron, planks and plastic sheets. This is the South America that doesn’t feature in picture postcards.
Earlier in the day we had already seen the stark face of poverty in Brazil, an entire family living amongst the debris beneath a motorway flyover. Now we have left the comfort of the main dual carriageway between the city centre and the airport behind, and are passing through the heart of the perifico, the slums on the edge of Salvador da Bahia, Brazil’s third city. The destination is the Barradao Stadium, home to EC Vitoria, second team of the capital of Bahia state.
This is a different world from the colonial grandeur of the Pelhourino, the tourist infested UNESCO Heritage Site at the heart of the city, a harsh sight of the reality of life for so many of the inhabitants of a country that could be a paradise. Those who have seen the film “Cidade de Deus” which portrays life in the favelas of Rio will recognise the surroundings. “Much social problem, much danger, much violence” says our taxi driver helpfully, emphasising our apprehension. They say you have to be mad or suicidal to enter such a place unaccompanied.
Yet such is the strange hypnotic appeal of a live football match that it would seem a defeat to turn back at this stage. As we approach the main entrance to the stadium, the taxi driver goes into overdrive. Cheekily avoiding a Police road-block and stopping outside the main gates, he swiftly negotiates two tickets at 10 Reis (about £2) each, and guides us to the turnstile, offering to wait for us until after the match at no charge. If nothing else we have a way home, and with that load lifted from our minds, we can concentrate on the attractions to come.
Into the Lion’s Den
After one frustration, we are finally going to see a game in Serie A as EC Vitoria take on Juventude of Caixas du Sol on a warm, humid Sunday afternoon. Vitoria’s mascot is a lion, and in some senses we seem to have come to Brazil’s equivalent of Millwall’s Den. There is a distinct feeling that this is a slice of real Brazilian life, far removed from the safe glass bubble of the tourist trips to the Maracana offered in the hotels of Rio. To see a Brazilian domestic fixture is hardly an everyday event, and this is our last opportunity on this trip. If nothing else, it looks as if we’re in for a memorable experience, on a trip that has already supplied many moments to take the breath away.
No visit to Brazil can be complete without taking in a football match, so central is the game to life in the country. Our trip had started in Belo Horizonte, some seven hundred miles to the south, where we had planned to attend Atletico Mineiro’s home fixture with Criciuma. However, crowd misdemeanours had resulted in disciplinary action by the Brazilian authorities, and the game was switched to Sao Paulo, some two hundred miles away. We had made do with a tour around the Mineirao stadium which Atletico share with Cruzeiro, and had watched the game in a lively bar in the city’s trendy Savassi district. To say this was frustrating is an understatement, particularly as the fixture with Criciuma looks as if it might be crucial to the final positions at the bottom of the Brazilian Serie A table.
The Brazilian season runs from March to December, and for the second successive year the league is being contested on a traditional round robin home and away basis. The abandonment of the traditional end of season play offs, a hangover from the days when the national championship was played between the various state champions, led some critics to fear that the Brazilian public would lose interest if there was no climax to the season. They shouldn’t worry this time around, as it looks as if the most serious issues will go to the final day. With seven games to play, no less than five clubs are contesting the Championship, whilst as many as nine are involved in the struggle to avoid the four relegation places. To add spice to the contest, traditional Rio giants Flamengo and Botafogo are fighting the drop along with Atletico Mineiro and EC Vitoria. Atletico Mineiro’s game with Criciuma had ended in a 2-2 draw, leaving matters wide open at the bottom. We are to pick up the tale a week later after
travelling overland by train and bus to Salvador, capital of Bahia state.
City of the Saints
Salvador is in North-East Brazil at the centre of the former sugar cane fields that were manned by slaves imported from Africa by the thousand. Brazil imported nearly ten times as many slaves as the USA, and was the last bastion of slavery. The legacy is a huge black and multi-racial population – around 80% of the population of Bahia is black or of mixed race - but with the collapse of the region’s traditional industries, little in terms of sustainable economic activity. The Salvador area is considered the greatest concentration of poverty in the whole of the Americas. If that seems a cold statistic of the type brandished by anonymous economists, the hard practical evidence of the human cost is before our eyes outside the Vitoria ground.
Yet the area is fiercely proud, and can lay claim to being the font of Brazilian culture. It was in Salvador that the traditions of African drumming gelled with European influences to produce the samba music that is most readily associated with Brazil. Not content with this seminal role, the area is also home to giants of Brazilian popular music such as Gilberto Gil and Caetano Veloso, and their more contemporary protégés Carlhinos Brown and Virginia Rodrigues. Every Tuesday evening Pelhourhino Square reverberates to the drums of Olodum (given world-wide exposure by Paul Simon on “Rhythm of the Saints”) whilst on other streets there are impromptu displays of capoiera the African martial art that has metamorphosed into a graceful yet energetic dance form. Anywhere you go in Salvador it seems impossible to escape from music that sets the rhythm of a city that has distinctly African influences.
Salvador’s vibrancy extends into its football, the city being home to two major teams. Bahia’s red white and blue striped shirt can frequently be seen worn around the city centre, which is unsurprising as the 66,000 capacity Fonte Nova stadium is within walking distance of Pelhourhino, the old town district. National champions in 1988, the club are the best supported in the city, but suffered the ignominy of relegation at the end of Serie A’s first flirtation with a proper league system. They have partially recovered this season and are involved in the final round of the play off system that determines the final two promotion spots from Serie B.
The city centre comes to a partial standstill on the Saturday afternoon as shop and bar television sets are tuned to their away fixture at Brasiliero. Whilst the traditional commentator’s roar of “Gooo-aal” is accompanied by cheering from open windows throughout the heart of the old city, the local favourites lose 2-1. Whether they will renew acquaintance with city rivals EC Vitoria hangs in the balance. The police must be hoping that the clubs avoid each other. In the last derby match in 2003 four spectators were shot.
A Little Piece of England
EC Vitoria are the older club, having started life in 1899 as the brainchild of two upper class Bahians who had studied at English Universities, and brought back with them a love of English sports. The Rubro-Negro originally featured a cricket section alongside the football. Whilst the sound of willow on leather never truly captured the Brazilian imagination, the football club prospered. In recent seasons the team featured former World Cup winner Bebeto, and were runners up in the national championship as recently as 1993. However, the realities of economics appear to have caught up with North Eastern football, and all the regions clubs are struggling whilst the power base of the domestic scene appears to have switched to Sao Paulo and the south.
Vitoria are named after one of Salvador’s most up market seaboard suburbs, but the club now play at the Barradao Stadium on the outskirts of the city. As we have seen, this area has become considerable less salubrious, and its fair to say that the majority of the club’s present day supporters are not drawn from the upper classes. The club are planning to completely rebuild the stadium as a state of the art 30,000 all seat multi purpose arena, although what implications this may have for it’s immediate environs is unclear.
If the journey to the ground had been daunting, the current stadium itself does not lack character. A welcome contrast to the somewhat anonymous municipal concrete bowls that feature in most major Brazilian cities, the Barradao in some respects resembles Charlton’s Valley before it’s redevelopment. Three huge terraces are dug into a natural hillside, whilst the fourth side is wholly given over to the cricket pavilion style changing rooms, two huge floodlight pylons and two trees under which there are deckchairs, a genteel scene wholly at odds with squalor of the streets leading to the ground. The capacity is now officially 32,000, although this figure is debateable because it was at one time much higher, and although most of the crowd sit on the deep steps, the hard-core support behind each goal resolutely stands. The crowd is officially given as just below twelve thousand, although the atmosphere generated suggests that the ground is rather fuller.
Candy Floss and Ice Cream
The game is important to both sides, for whilst Vitoria desperately need a win to help stave off relegation, opponents Juventude lie in sixth position, well placed for entry into South America’s equivalent of the UEFA Cup, the Copa de Sul America. The home team make an aggressive start, giving their supporters much to cheer. Below us behind each goal the ultras will the team on, the omni-present drummers accompanied on this occasion by a man bearing what must be a contender for the biggest air horn in Brazil.
We sit toward the top of the terrace in amongst a mixed crowd containing many women and children. We are possibly the only two white faces in the ground, our northern European appearance contrasting wanly with even the Mediterranean hued skin of the those Brazilians who would be considered to be ethnically white. Any thoughts of blending into the crowd are futile. The presence of riot police a few rows back is initially comforting, but it soon becomes apparent that our fellow supporters see us gringos as mildly diverting and unusual rather than prey. If the approach to the ground had made us apprehensive, and the atmosphere inside the ground had a distinct edge, we gradually relax and concentrate on the game. There are brisk sales of ice cream, nuts and candy floss (!) by the vendors in our part of the ground, somewhat incongruous in the overall context.
Black clouds have now filled the sky, and as the rain gently starts to fall it seems likely we are due a good tropical soaking on the uncovered terrace. Yet the temperature remains in the mid-30s, and the glowering skies and threat of an imminent storm add to the intimidating atmosphere. There are no away fans, for even allowing for the thousand mile plus journey from the south, this is an inhospitable place for the opposition. One suspects that if you survived the ground that getting away through the surrounding favelas would be no joke.
After a quarter of an hour the ball is skilfully played through the Juventude defence to Leandro Dominguez who sends the ball crashing into the top corner of the net with a mixture of accuracy and power. This sends the red and black shirted Vitoria fans wild, and the hard core behind the goal are soon bouncing up and down in lines, with arms on shoulders and legs kicking in unison, in a routine is vaguely reminiscent of the Tiller Girls. Vitoria continue to take the game to the visitors and are unlucky not to be further ahead at the interval.
The reasons for Vitoria’s struggle do not seem to lie up front where strikers Edilson and Obina have scored 17 and 16 goals respectively, and the supply from midfield and the wings is as skilful and lively as one might expect from a Brazilian team. However, the defence looks rather less up to the job, and are surprisingly poor at distribution for a team from this country. A series of misplaced passes into touch brings howls of derision from the crowd. What they would have made of Neal Sharpe isn’t worth thinking about.
Rubro-Negro!
Half time sees a banner paraded around the ground pleading with fans to behave in order not to incur the wrath of the Brazilian football authorities. Despite the security fences reminiscent of British grounds in the 1980s, and the high anti-missile nets behind each goal, the referee and his assistants appear accompanied by the armed police escort that had followed them off the pitch at half time. They make their way to each end to inspect the goal nets en masse, as if seeking safety in numbers.
The second half sees Juventude play more like a team in their league position, and there are a number of close shaves for the Vitoria goal. Just as the threat seems to have burned itself out, the visitors score with a fairly routine header from a free kick on the left. This prompts the crowd into the most concerted chanting of the afternoon as dusk falls and the floodlights take effect. The Rubro-Negro coach Everisto de Macedo gambles by taking off his seemingly influential left sided midfielder and goalscorer Dominguez in favour of fast and tricky winger Magnum. This has the effect of opening up the game as Vitoria search for a vital winner, but Juventude look dangerous on the break.
With ten minutes left a fine move sees the ball played back across the goal with the ‘keeper floundering, but Edilson powers his shot over the bar when deft accuracy might have reaped a better reward. With five minutes to go another Magnum cross flies across the goal but somehow evades the two incoming strikers and bounces off a defender to safety. The crowd gesticulate energetically, but this is the anger of frustration rather than a genuine threat of disorder. There is suddenly the dread feeling that these misses will prove costly, and that Juventude’s increasingly incisive breaks might see them grab the winner. Our welcome thus far has been fine, but the thought occurs that a late winner for the visitors might turn the mood ugly, and we leave as the fourth official holds up the board showing two minutes remaining. There is no further score and the game ends one all.
Our taxi driver is as good as his word and is waiting for us at the main gate. Thirty minutes later we are back in the safe world of the old town feeling that we’d been on a bit of an adventure, and had certainly seen things that organised tour groups would never get near. Touchingly, Oldemar the driver, who by now seems to think we are complete eccentrics, doesn’t want to charge us for either the journey out or the time spent waiting. Naturally, we wont hear of it and push 100 Reis into his hand. The hefty tip is probably worth a lot to him, whilst for us it is a cheap price for having pulled off a unique experience in safety.
The draw hasn’t turned out to be good news for Vitoria, however, for wins for Flamengo and Botafogo leave them just outside the bottom four. Atletico Mineiro’s 1-0 defeat at relegation rivals Paysandu leaves them in the relegation zone. Yet only four points separate 16th from 22nd place with six games to go. Meanwhile at the top Atletico Paranese move closer to the title, but are still pursued by four other teams within four points. This looks like a race to the wire at either end of the league.
Home Thoughts Abroad
Direct comparisons between the Brazilian game and the British are difficult due to the very different positions the two countries find themselves both in world economics and in football’s variant. There is certainly little to be gleaned off the field from Brazil where league and club administration have become bywords for incompetence and corruption. Brazilian President Lula has stated that two of his goals are ensuring that all Brazilians eat three meals a day and also the cleaning up of the national game. Some would say that his chances of achieving the first far outweigh the second. Meanwhile crowd violence is still alive and well in this part of South America.
Yet on the field there is much to admire. The technical standard is high, with a level of skill that would leave most Premiership teams looking like pub sides. If the comprehensive victories for Vasco da Gama and Corinthians over Manchester United in the ill-fated World Club Championship a few years ago were anything to go by, then even the Premiership’s leading lights might struggle in this company. If Britain is serious about closing the gap on the World’s leading nations and seriously competing at international level then we must look at ways of addressing the skill deficit.
The rather frightening aspect is that many Brazilians consider the current domestic standard to be poor, mainly due to the fact that most of the leading lights of the national side play in Europe. What would the standard be if the likes of Ronaldo, Ronaldhino and Kaka still played at home? Yet there seems to be a queue of candidates waiting in the Brazilian league to step up to the national team and take their chance, as was evidenced in the last Copa Sud America tournament when the majority of European based players did not appear.
The Football Factory
Why then does Brazil produce veritable hordes of international class players with verve and skill? Part of the answer obviously lies in the huge size and population of the country, which at around 160 million clearly gives them a head start. Yet if you put the four British home nations together with Germany and the Scandinavian countries you would have a similar population pool to draw on, but on current evidence just a fraction of the highly skilled attacking players. Brazil’s allure lies not in the numbers of players produce, but the type and quality of player.
Traditional explanations for the “Brazilian way” tend to concentrate on climate and the traditions of players playing on beaches and back streets. Certainly climate plays a part, for in the tropical temperatures of cities such as Salvador and Recife the northern European workaholic player would be likely to pull up with heat exhaustion. Making the ball do the work is a necessity, and few Brazilians will make the professional ranks, regardless of position, if they don’t possess basic ball skills. Whether the tradition of street and beach football contributes to this mentality is a moot point. Sitting outside a bar in central Salvador following the Vitoria match we watch a small pre-teen boy and his friend playing with a tennis ball. Each takes it in turn to try to beat the other. Their tricks are deft and control sublime. If we thought that that this pair were exceptional, a third boy joins in showing similar remarkable skills. Does the desire of Brazilians to develop and show off their skills have its roots in the pleasure to be derived by poor children making the best of limited playthings?
On the other hand, Simon Clifford, the English promoter of Futebol de Salao, maintains that the secrets of Brazilian football are rather more scientific, citing levels of preparation at a professional level, and well-designed training techniques employed with young players. Whilst the cynic might argue that Clifford has a direct financial incentive for propounding the benefits of Futebol de Salao, played on a small pitch with a small heavy ball, it would be wrong to dismiss the arguments out of hand, and time will tell whether this theory is well founded, as graduates of the scheme come of age. Whether such an approach will catch on in British football where our traditions are rather more physical is an altogether more difficult point. One aspect of the Vitoria match that was striking was the protection given by the referee to the skilled players, and the Brazilian game, whilst highly competitive, was noticeably less physical than the British variety.
Futebol – A Brazilian Way of Life?
If you discount the more well rehearsed theories of climate and poverty determining what is perceived as the Brazilian style of play, is there something more profound within the country’s culture that results in a certain mindset for aspiring players? Brazilian culture owes much to both the Portuguese colonisers, and the largely Yoruba slaves they imported from West Africa, from what is largely now Nigeria. This is exemplified in Candomble, a religion that combines African deities with Catholic saints, whilst in music the cultures met and resulted in samba. Is it more than an interesting coincidence that Portugal, Nigeria and Brazil are amongst the most entertaining, free-flowing football teams from their respective continents?
The prime difficulty with the idea of Brazilian football being a samba-like mix of Portuguese and Nigerian influences is, of course, that African football has been rather later in developing, and that it is more likely that Nigerians were inspired by the likes of Pele than vice versa. Also, most Brazilian clubs were founded and developed under British influence, rather than by the Portuguese colonisers who had been kicked to touch by Brazilian independence long before organised football arrived on the South American continent. However, it is interesting to speculate as to the influence of the neo-African culture on what is seen as “traditional” Brazilian football. It should also be said that Southern Brazil does not have such a large afro population, and sides such as Gremio of Porto Alegre are traditionally reputed to play in a more organised defensive style that some critics attribute to the high percentage of German immigrants in that area.
Does a clue as to the origins of the philosophy of what we think of as the traditional Brazilian approach lie in capoiera, the athletic mix of dance and martial art developed out of African fighting rituals? Like a combination of floor gymnastics, ballet and kick boxing, capoiera began life as a form of combat, but now is seen as a graceful dance form that depends on split second timing. Muhammed Ali’s description of floating like a butterfly and stinging like a bee would be highly applicable for this art form that can still result in serious injury. Traditionally, the participants landed serious blows to an opponent, but had to do so with grace and precision to the rhythms of drums and berimbau. Does Brazilian football share these concepts of marriage of conflict and art? Is it possible that a people’s culture can affect the way that they approach their football? Or are these mere perceptions, a case of wanting to make the facts fit the theory?
If the “cultural antecedent” analysis is correct then it will be many years before we see anything approaching such levels of skill in the British game, whose mentality too often over emphasises homage to the dogs of war rather than the inspired artist. Change is particularly unlikely as long as the cash registers of the Premiership keep ringing regardless of the mediocrity of much of the product, a process exacerbated by the potentially disastrous consequences of relegation, and a football inspired by fear rather than fired by inspiration. In the meantime, those who love the beautiful game would do well to take in the football of a country that literally dances to a very different beat.
Postscript. In the next round of matches Atletico Mineiro beat Flamengo 6-1 in a relegation six pointer played at the neutral ground of Itapiraca in eastern Minas Gerais. Vitoria drew 0-0 at bottom but one Guarani. With Botafogo also winning 4-1, this meant that Vitoria slipped into the last relegation spot.
The weekend of the 20th November saw Vitoria beat Gremio 2-0, whilst Atletico Mineiro lost 1-0 at other strugglers Parana. The relegation dogfight of the weekend saw Flamengo held 0-0 at the Maracana by Botafogo in a Rio derby.
Round 43 saw Vitoria lose disastrously by 5-1 at Coritiba whilst Atletico win 2-1. With Flamengo pulling off the shock of the day by winning 2-1 away at championship chasing Palmeiras, and Botafogo also winning this leaves the Rubro-Negro in deep trouble.
The table with three games to play stands as follows:-
17. Botafogo 50
18. Criciuma 49
19. Flamengo 49
20. Paysandu 48
21. Vitoria 46
22. Atletico Mineiro 46
23. Guarani 43
24. Gremio 39
Gremio and Guarani look doomed, but for the rest there’s just a whisker in it.
Postscript 2. On a more serious note the ABC Trust, whose patron is Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin, are a charity who finance projects designed to help street children in North East Brazil, and in particular Bahia. Details of their work can be found on their website at www.abctrust.org.uk
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