Brazil Futebol

⚽ Maracanã: Setting the Stage for Futebol Fever

To truly understand what I witnessed yesterday, I need to properly set the stage by drawing a comparison to my own experiences. I have been to easily over 100 sporting events in the U.S. I have visited some of the greatest shrines in American sports and watched legendary players in their prime.

I’ve been to the original Montreal Forum for a classic Canadians vs. Bruins showdown. I sat in the original Yankee Stadium for a heated Red Sox vs. Yankees clash. I’ve visited the oldest baseball ground in America, Fenway Park—it needs no introduction, just “Fenway,” like some legendary rock star with only one name. And, yes, I’ve been to the old Boston Garden for Celtics and Bruins games. These stadiums and teams boast long, deep histories, sometimes over 100 years, and countless championships. I have seen pivotal sports moments and championship games in these hallowed venues.

The American Decibel

Nothing, absolutely nothing, compares to what I witnessed yesterday. In any of those U.S. venues, we cheered—loud, or so I thought. We got angry when a call went against our team—or so I thought. Our expressions of cheering and celebration would seem long by my usual standards; perhaps a minute or two of noise after a goal is scored or a bad call generates some loud boos. But then it dies down to a quiet rumble.

In fact, the atmosphere often gets quite subdued as we watch the action, with an occasional “oooh” or “ahh” depending on the play. You can easily hold a normal conversation. In many cases, I’ve witnessed people discussing things that have absolutely nothing to do with the game. “Hey, Timmy, how was dinner?” “Fine, Mom, we got burgers then went swimming at Joey’s house.” “Cindy, that is a nice blouse. Where did you buy it?” It’s not uncommon, even though we do genuinely love our sports in America.

The Brazilian Revelation

Maracanã Stadium, Brazil, and its fans are nothing like sports in America.

First, it is a culture, and futebol (the proper name for soccer in Portuguese) has produced one of the very few athletes to truly transcend the sport: Pelé. He is known everywhere, not just in soccer. I honestly do not think we have a comparable athlete in major U.S. sports; only Muhammad Ali in boxing would register on this global scale. Pelé himself coined the phrase, Jogo Bonito—”The Beautiful Game.” I do have to do my review on his book, which was awesome.

The sport also features something called Ginga (pronounced Jing-gah), which means Rhythm or a certain fluid, acrobatic way of moving. I mention this because you feel it. You feel the Ginga the minute you step into the stadium and see the field.

The intensity starts for real about 45 minutes before the game, gets loud, and continues to get deafeningly louder. There are flags everywhere, and the drums are constant, maintaining that rhythm. This Ginga not only defines the style of play but completely transcends it, flowing into the fans.

There is no need for seats; nobody sits! There is singing, there is dancing, and it is non-stop loud. Even when nothing is happening on the pitch, the drums, the dancing, and the shouts are relentless. You feel it; it literally moves you. I looked at my wife ten minutes into the frenzy and said, “What the hell is happening?” Not the actual words but you get my drift.

Now get this: The game was a regular season match. This was not the playoffs. This was not a championship. It was a game. When the first goal was scored (there were two, thankfully), I was genuinely concerned: How can the stadium structure sustain the noise, the dancing, the drums, and the sheer human vibration? It was, without a doubt, unbelievable.

A Hugging Culture

In the stadium, they are one—and I mean it. You have to see it. Nobody is talking about Timmy’s dinner or Cindy’s blouse; absolutely everybody at this game is immersed in that game. Even babies! And yes, there were many babies; one right next to us was wearing her team jersey for her first game. That is another thing: Everybody had a futebol shirt on, and I mean everybody.

If you have never had an interaction with a Brazilian, they are warm, loving, all-consuming people. They are close. Personal space is not really a thing. When the first goal was scored, the guy next to us was hugging my wife. On the next goal, he was hugging me, and a different guy and a woman were hugging my wife. That is what it is.

It is a culture, a way of life. Next year, the World Cup is happening, and I cannot imagine what that will be like, especially as Brazil is the only country with five World Cup championships.

It is not a game; it is a culture, a way of life. If you love sports, regardless of whether you know anything about futebol, this is definitely something you must experience.