THE GREATEST VICTORY OF THE BRAZILIAN TEAM.
Mário Filho | 14/07/1950

It was a football spectacle like never before seen. Some thought it impossible for any team to play better than the Brazilian team had against Sweden. Except for the Brazilian team itself. Willy Meisl, who had never witnessed such a performance, asked me on that Sunday night of the seven-to-one defeat if I didn't think "that" was the best the Brazilian team could produce. I was at a loss for words. The Brazilian team had played a style of football that would be difficult to replicate. And now comes the answer from the Brazilian team itself. Against Sweden, there had been some hesitations from Augusto in the initial moments. Augusto's concern disappeared as the Brazilian team grew stronger on the field. But it wasn't clear whether Augusto's rise was due to the decline of Swedish resistance or not. So much so that one of the concerns in the match against Spain continued to be Augusto. And now Augusto returns to his glory days. On the field, he did more than just his important role of captaining the defense, preventing it from being disturbed, even by his own mistakes. Augusto completely neutralized Gainza. He was another guarantee for Brazil's victory. And Augusto's security must have contributed to the Brazilian team's state of grace. There is no other expression that can convey the form of the Brazilian team. There was, it's true, the complete willingness of each player to give their all. But this willingness was also present in the Spanish team. The Spaniards fought with truly admirable bravery. Beaten, crushed, they did not give up. They continued fighting, and even more so. Not to win, but to lose by less. And that is what they achieved. The six-to-one score doesn't reflect what the match was like, the arrogant superiority of the Brazilians. The Brazilians dominated both halves in a true crescendo. If the Spaniards hadn't fought as they did, if they had given up for even a moment, the score would have been unprecedented in a World Cup match. Brazilian bravery wasn't translated into epic gestures, but rather into a display of the best football in the world. It began with a sprint. But this Brazilian sprint was a show of the most perfect technique in football. Only at an accelerated pace. There was no resistance capable of containing them. That's why the goals followed one another, quickly defining the match. The Brazilians entered the field to decide the match as quickly as possible. And they decided it decisively. Like in the match against Sweden.

THE VICTORY OF GREAT GOALS.

But against Spain, it seemed that the Brazilian players were determined to score goals worthy of the match. worthy of the expectation of the largest crowd ever to attend a football match. There wasn't a single empty seat in the stadium. The blue lake of numbered seats had become the raging sea of ​​the sonnet. The raging sea whose waves crashed in the stands. In the stands that had never been full and that now overflowed. The raging sea, a crashing wave in the general admission area and a vast ocean in the stands, seemed small. The world's largest stadium had become too small. It was as if the crowd had sensed the great victory and didn't want to miss it. The crowd of two hundred thousand people who had come to support the national team, but who had brought victory scarves to the stadium. Ready for the marvelous flight of white wings. Everything conspired to make the spectacle something fantastic, something never seen before and never experienced. Even before the match, each spectator considered themselves privileged. They looked at the full stadium, heard the oceanic roar of the crowd, and felt happy to be one of the two hundred thousand, to participate in that moment. And the moment was greater than expected. The Brazilian team turned it into a rare instant in the life of world football. There wasn't a single goal in the match that wasn't a great goal, including the Spanish one. Ademir's first goal showcased everything a player's skill is capable of. Ademir's run, his sense of opportunity, the instantaneous conception of the almost impossible goal. Ademir barely had room to turn the game around. And he turned in the same spot to finish past Ramallets. Then the stadium transformed into a huge mouth shouting "goal!" And then came Jair's goal, which made the stadium delirious even more. It's difficult to say which goal was more perfect: Ademir's or Jair's. Jair's goal came unexpectedly. Jair invaded the area, advanced the ball slightly, the ball dying on the field a step away from him, and as if he took a penalty. Ramallets still touched the ball that was about to lift the Spanish net. And then came Chico's goal, Chico on the right wing, switching feet to decisively beat Ramallets. That was the score at halftime against Sweden. Those who didn't think it possible to crush the great Spanish team were witnessing a victory for the Brazilian team that surpassed even their victory against Scotland.

THE SIX-ZERO.

It was announced by the flurry of handkerchiefs. The certainty of victory didn't just come from the three-nil score. It came from more than just the three-nil score, from the fabulous performance of the Brazilian team. The Brazilian team was a machine of well-tuned parts. But at full steam. The enthusiasm, the spirit of the Brazilian players didn't disturb their technique. The perfect communion of technique and enthusiasm was evident. Every greater effort by a Brazilian player led to a series of perfect plays. Even when those plays didn't result in a goal, they still provoked admiration. Ademir was seen both in the goals he scored and in the goals he didn't. Ademir at the peak of his form. Euphoric and in a state of grace. And it wasn't just Ademir. There was Zizinho, there was Jair, there was the Brazilian attacking trio creating situations of great danger for the last Spanish stronghold, sweeping away Spanish resistance, and there was Chico in his best days, and there was Friaça who hadn't yet shown himself in the team. And Bauer was in full inspiration, growing ever stronger on the field, and Danilo was having a great afternoon, fighting relentlessly, and Bigode was making Basora disappear from the field, and Augusto was playing as everyone wanted to see him, and Juvenal was completely neutralizing Zarra. The Brazilian team showed even more fighting spirit than in the match against Sweden. The numerical advantage seemed to demand an even greater effort from them. It was as if each player felt it was their big day. No one failed to give their all. Hence the score widened so quickly, just like in the first half. Zizinho gave a perfect pass to Ademir, Ademir went to the end line, from there he passed to Chico who beat Ramallets. A minute later Zizinho repeated Ademir's play and Ademir scored the fifth goal. Ten minutes later, Ademir broke away to give a back pass to Zizinho. Zizinho covered Parra and on the way down he volleyed the ball past Ramallets. It was six to zero, and then the flurry of handkerchiefs grew, engulfing the entire stadium. The stadium shimmered in the white wings of the victory handkerchiefs.

SIX TO ONE.

Gone was the spectacle of the handkerchiefs from the match against Yugoslavia. Anyone looking around would have felt their heart racing. I saw many people hugging and kissing, many in tears. It was a way of thanking the national team for the wonderful spectacle and the great triumph. True, the crowd had already been moved earlier, sending shivers down everyone's spines as two hundred thousand voices sang the National Anthem. It was the anticipation of a great, unknown, and as-yet-unexperienced emotion that stirred the crowd so deeply. But what followed surpassed even the highest hopes. In the end, the crowd found just one way to express itself. Suddenly — without warning, and without anyone leading the way — they sang "Touradas de Madri." The Spanish team was defeated but had not surrendered. They fought on — harder and harder — even while being outclassed. One compliment is due to the Spaniards: they did not make fools of themselves while the Brazilians put on a masterclass. The Brazilians were running rings around them, yet the Spaniards remained Furia La Furia. It was a Furia that no longer sought victory, but merely aimed to avoid a shutout—to score a goal at any cost. And the Spaniards deserved that goal. It came during the Brazilian defense's only moment of relaxation. Yet the Spaniards deserved what the fans call a "goal of honor" — a reward for the bravery with which they fought, never giving up. A different team — one with less fighting spirit, less raza than the Spanish — would have lost by a score of ten or twelve. Let this further justice be done to the Spanish team: they demanded everything from the Brazilian squad, even though the Brazilians were superior at every stage of the match. They never allowed the Brazilians to let their guard down, not even while putting on a show.

NOW, URUGUAY.

The Brazilians' masterclass was different from the kind of display they usually put on. It was a way to avoid close-quarters combat, physical contact, and the risk of injury. After the sixth goal, the Brazilian players were already thinking about Uruguay — about the final match of the World Cup. And this exhibition was another way to showcase technical virtuosity; the moment for pure showmanship had arrived. Whenever Bauer and Zizinho combined, their one-touch passing became a spectacle. On the left flank, Jair was putting on a show of his own. Ademir was a different breed altogether; he wanted the goal — that extra one the crowd was clamoring for after the score had already reached six-to-one. The scoreline didn't hit seven, as it had against Sweden, but it was more than enough against an opponent like Spain. Indeed, it was a massive scoreline against a team like Spain. Only the sheer potency of Brazilian football could pull off such a feat. I cannot recall a more complete victory in the history of Brazilian football. Don't talk to me about the football of the past — whether the distant or recent past. Don't bring up 1919 or 1945. This is the supreme moment for Brazilian football. Never before has football like this been played in Brazil. That should come as no surprise to anyone, given that foreign critics unanimously agree they have never seen football quite like it. Yet, this victory — which sparked the "July Carnival" the city witnessed — does not mark the end of the Brazilian squad's campaign. That is something everyone must bear in mind. The win against Sweden had already raised the stakes for the Brazilian team — not just because of the result, but because the performance demonstrated their potential to win the World Cup. Now, following the victory over Spain, the pressure on the Brazilian squad has grown even greater. They need only repeat their performance against either Sweden or Spain to clinch the World Cup title. And what once seemed like a difficult challenge — matching the level of play shown against Sweden—was actually surpassed in this match against Spain.

THE DEBT TO BE PAID.

This shows that Brazilian football is experiencing a special moment. The Brazilian squad grew stronger as it approached the finals, taking on irresistible form. Fans have a term for this irresistible state the Brazilian squad is in: they say the team is gleaming The Brazilian squad is gleaming. Those who took longer to find their form — like Augusto — have now fully achieved it. And those who were already in form have honed their physical and technical condition to such a degree that they have transformed into the likes of Zizinho, Ademir, Jair, and Bauer — monstrous talents, true football machines. Yet, they are machines in the Brazilian style, not the English one; they possess hearts as big as those of the Uruguayans and Spaniards. What’s more, the Brazilian players possess what fans call "hunger for the game." They are enjoying themselves — playing with the ball, mastering it, doing everything imaginable with it. They do not limit themselves to merely playing their part or doing just enough to secure a victory. For them, "enough" means giving their absolute, total maximum effort. Hence those two crushing victories over Sweden and Spain. Now, full justice can be done to Sweden — the team that, after eliminating Italy, nearly knocked Uruguay out of the World Cup. Brazil's great victory over Spain has enhanced the value of its great victory over Sweden — a great victory few understood, a great victory whose true significance few grasped. The momentum, however, must continue; it can only end when the match against Uruguay concludes. The Brazilian squad has incurred a debt to the fans; it simply needs to play as it did against Sweden and Spain. It simply needs to fight as it fought against Sweden and Spain. And then, the Brazilian squad will earn the nation's gratitude. It was in anticipation of this gratitude — foreseeing this very moment — that Brazil built a monument to its football; the largest stadium in the world.