Soccer – futebol, fútbol – is
unquestionably a significant part of Latin American culture, with the notable
exception of some Caribbean nations. It
is almost impossible to imagine modern Mexican, Brazilian, or Argentinian
cultural identity without soccer, and nothing brings this to the forefront more
than the FIFA World Cup, the phenomenon that develops into a nationalistic
frenzy every four years. By the time Brazil won the first of its five (to date)
World Cup titles in 1958, it had become clear that game as played by the
various national teams had evolved into distinct styles easily contrasting the
methodical Swedish journeyman play from Brazilian showmanship, for example.
Many scholars have debated how realistic such an assertion could be,
given that FIFA’s Laws of the Games apply equally to all competitions. These
students of the game claimed that international football was an English
invention and had not substantively changed from its origins. Everybody played
the same game by the same rules. Scholars with an opposing view pointed out the
differences in tactics and ball control styles that were relatively consistent
within countries’ national squads but varied greatly from one nation to the
next. While large regional distinctions were evident – e.g. the northern
European approach in contrast with the Latin approach – even within a given
geographical area, teams could be identified by their style of play: Brazilians
favored complicated footwork and individualism, Argentinians played with closer
marking and more physical contact, Uruguayans used tightly structured defense
and counter-attacks.
As recently as the 2006 World Cup, I argued in favor of the national
identities of soccer. I based my assertions not only on the actual way in which
teams played but also on the approaches to the game most highly favored in the
national media and general populace. In Brazil, looking at the teams that put
together three World Cup titles in the course of four tournaments (1958, 1962,
1970), a popular distinction was evident in the way Brazilians viewed Pelé
(Édson Arantes do Nascimento) and Garrincha (Manuel Francisco dos Santos). The
two were teammates in three World Cups: 1958, 1962, and 1966. While Brazilians
recognize Pelé as “the greatest footballer ever” (most career professional
goals, only person to win three World Cup titles, etc.), they tended to embrace
Garrincha’s flashy, playful style and off-the-pitch partying more than Pelé’s
professional athleticism. Observing the teams fielded by Brazil in 1978, 1982,
1986, 1990, and 1994, the least favorite leading into the World Cup was the
less arty and more defensive ’94 squad. Brazilian futebol, it was said, should be the epitome of the “jogo bonito,” the beautiful, stylized
way of playing. Prior to the ’94 finals, many Brazilians felt that the more
pedestrian group led by team captain Dunga (Carlos Caetano Bledorn Verri) would
fail miserably. Instead, they capture the title in the final against Italy, and
blazed the trail for Brazilian teams that went to the World Cup final in 1998
(lost to France) and 2002 (beat Germany). Four years later in 2006, the
Brazilian superstars seemed to approach the tournament as one giant Nike
commercial featuring their amazing ball control talent and trick passes. While
they did advance as far as the quarter finals, their game-winning abilities
were precarious throughout the tournament, their focus apparently more on style
than points. Still, they embodied the jogo
bonito of Brazilian soccer and, until their elimination, were much more
heartily received than the ’94 squad.
By 2010, things had changed. The best players from around the world
were now playing with and against each other in Europe. English, German,
Italian, and Spanish leagues surged with foreign players from Africa, Eastern
Europe, and the Americas. No longer isolated geographically between World Cups
and occasional friendlies or qualifiers, these players now shared their day-to-day
experiences and learned from one another. During the 2010 competition, nowhere
was this more evident than in the Argentina x Germany match. Traditionally,
German success on the pitch relied upon overwhelming athleticism. In the 1974
Cup, the amazing Dutch carousel – the
“Clock-Work Orange” as they were called popularly – dominated opponents through
their innovative “total football.” In the finals, however, the sheer
physicality of the West German athletes ended the Netherlands’ dream. The
German style of play depended to a great extent on being bigger, stronger and
faster than their opponents. They could boot the ball downfield and out run the
other team, leading to strong, accurate shots on goal. In the 2010 face-off
with Argentina, the South American squad expected to dissect the Germans
relying greatly on Lionel Messi’s incredible dribbling and passing abilities.
Messi had spent the years leading up to 2010 demonstrating on Barcelona just
how to cut apart opposing defenses in precisely such a manner, and garnishing
for himself the title of greatest soccer player in the world. The Germans who
defeated the Argentinians were a surprise. They exhibited ball control and
passing techniques similar to the traditional Latin American style of play.
They still dominated the long ball and fast break, but now had the flashy
footwork and intricate passing supposedly of another cultural identity.
This week, the 2014 FIFA World
Cup enters the semi-final stage. Few observers of the game would be surprised
to know that Brazil, Germany, Argentina, and the Netherlands are the final four
participants, three multiple champions and the historically best team never to
have won. What has been surprising are the upsets during the group stage and
the teams that qualified for the round of 16. Some European powerhouses went
home early, while “lesser” teams from African and the Americas demonstrated a
level of play equal and even superior to the favorites. Going nose to nose with
the soccer strongholds, the second stage included such teams as Chile,
Colombia, Costa Rica, Mexico, USA and Uruguay, as well as Nigeria, Algeria, and
Greece. Even more surprising, Colombia and Costa Rica both progressed to the
quarter finals. The two teams had won their groups, Costa Rica besting three
previous World Cup champions: Italy, Uruguay and England.
What is most significant about
this is not merely how less traditional teams have surfaced to such a high
level of competition, but rather what it means in terms of national styles of
play. The leading players of the world have been blending their styles in
European leagues in growing numbers over the past 15 years or so. For example,
of the 23 players that Mexico took to this year’s World Cup, in their final
game against the Netherlands six (if you count Ochoa who just finished his
contract with AC Ajaccio) of the starting 11 and all three
substitutes play in Europe. In contrast, on the team that Mexico took to the
’94 Cup, only star forwards Hugo Sánchez and Luis García played in Europe.
Another way to look at the question of nation-specific styles of play is in the
current embodiment of Argentine soccer, Lionel Messi. He developed his skills
since youth playing for Barcelona in Spain, starting in their farm system at
age 13. While his unquestionably natural ability factors immensely in his
success on the pitch, the coaching and environment in which he has honed his
craft are Spanish. When Messi first gained international media attention, some
observers suggested that his manner of play was that of a Spaniard rather than an
Argentinian. Now in 2014, such comments have lost meaning. Messi is Messi. He
plays for Barcelona regularly, and represents his country, Argentina, in the
World Cup. In the same manner, Robin van Persie plays for Manchester United and
represents the Netherlands in the quadriannual competition. At the highest
level of the sport, no one plays “Argentinian soccer” or “Brazilian soccer” or “Chilean
soccer.” They just play soccer.
