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Don’t Call It Luck: The Divine Powers of the Soccer Fan Transcendent Games, in More Ways Than One
(about 2 hours later)
SALVADOR, Brazil — There is a saying in this coastal city of mixed religious heritages and many creeds that goes more or less like this: If superstition decided soccer matches, all matches would end in a tie. SALVADOR, Brazil — There is a saying in this coastal city of mixed religious heritages and creeds that goes more or less like this: If superstition decided soccer matches, all matches would end in a tie.
Still, that has never kept fans here from turning to rituals, magic, prayer or just odd practices to give a helping hand to their club, or to the Brazil national soccer team, which plays Chile on Saturday in the Round of 16 at the World Cup. Still, that has never kept fans here from turning to rituals, magic, prayer or just odd practices to give a helping hand to their favorite clubs, or to Brazil’s national team, which plays Chile on Saturday in the Round of 16 at the World Cup.
Whether it is wearing the same shorts for as long as the team is winning or leaving a sacrificial chicken and other offerings on a street corner to some African deity, fervent soccer fans in Salvador and beyond believe the outcome of the matches is somehow in their control. Whether wearing the same pair of shorts for as long as their team is winning or leaving a sacrificial chicken and other offerings on a street corner, many fervent soccer fans, in Salvador and beyond, believe the outcome of matches is somehow in their control.
“I write the name of the opposing team on a piece of paper, put the piece of paper inside a glass and put the glass in the freezer,” said Heraldo Souza da Silva, a businessman and father, explaining his strategy of “chilling the adversary,” generally applied to his local team, Esporte Clube Vitória, but adapted to serve Brazil during the World Cup. “I write the name of the opposing team on a piece of paper, put the piece of paper inside a glass and put the glass in the freezer,” Heraldo Souza da Silva, a businessman, said, explaining his strategy of “chilling the adversary” that is generally applied in support of his local team, Esporte Clube Vitória, but is adapted to serve Brazil during the World Cup.
Talent does not always dictate the result in soccer. Luck is the 12th player on the turf, and there are plenty of stories about clearly weaker teams scoring against much superior opponents. Think of the United States’ 1-0 victory against England in the 1950 World Cup, also in Brazil, a stunning feat by an American squad made up of part-time players, including a teacher and a hearse driver, against a team considered one of the best in the world. Talent does not always dictate results in soccer; luck is the 12th player on the turf, and there are plenty of stories about teams that scored against superior opponents. Think of the United States’ 1-0 victory against England in the 1950 World Cup, also in Brazil, a stunning feat by an American squad made up of part-time players, including a teacher and a hearse driver, against a team considered one of the best in the world.
Nelson Rodrigues, the Brazilian playwright, had a name for those unlikely and inexplicable goals, at least in earthly realms: “gol espírita,” or spiritualist goal, because, it is said, they can happen only by divine intervention. Nelson Rodrigues, a Brazilian playwright who died in 1980, had a name for those unlikely and inexplicable goals, at least in the earthly realm: gol espírita, or spiritualist goal, because, it is said, such a goal can happen only through divine intervention.
Brazilians are certain that such intervention expresses itself in many ways. Fans of Cruzeiro Esporte Clube, a top-level squad from the mountainous state of Minas Gerais, say the team had no chance earlier this year against San Lorenzo de Almagro, its Argentine opponent in the quarterfinals of the prestigious Copa Libertadores, because Pope Francis is among the team’s staunch supporters. (These days, rumor has it that the pope’s prayers are for Argentina, his home country and a soccer powerhouse.) Brazilians are certain that such intervention expresses itself in many ways. Fans of Cruzeiro Esporte Clube, a top-level squad from the mountainous state Minas Gerais, say the team had no chance this year against San Lorenzo de Almagro, its Argentine opponent in the quarterfinals of the prestigious Copa Libertadores, because Pope Francis is among that club’s staunch supporters. (These days, rumor has it that the pope’s prayers are for Argentina, his home country and a soccer powerhouse.)
“Luck interferes, for sure, but the most ardent soccer fans don’t call it luck,” said Ordep Serra, a professor of anthropology at the Federal University of Bahia, who has researched extensively the role of religions in Brazilian communities. “To them, it’s the prayer they prayed, the ritual they followed. There is chance in soccer, and though people know they can’t control or predict things that happen by chance, they’re quick to assign meaning to them.” “Luck interferes, for sure, but the most ardent soccer fans don’t call it luck,” said Ordep Serra, a professor of anthropology at the Federal University of Bahia who has extensively researched the role of religion in Brazilian communities. “To them, it’s the prayer they prayed, the ritual they followed. There is chance in soccer, and though people know they can’t control or predict things that happen by chance, they’re quick to assign meaning to them.”
This month, the writer João Ubaldo Ribeiro, who was born on an island off the coast of Salvador, wrote that his father confined him to the bathroom for many of Brazil’s games at the 1958 World Cup in Sweden after realizing Ribeiro was there, flushing the toilet, when Brazil scored against Austria in its first match. (My father, who is from Salvador, refuses to let my mother in the room whenever his beloved Esporte Clube Bahia plays. He said it was to avert the temptation of blaming her for the team’s losses, of which there have been many of late.) This month, João Ubaldo Ribeiro, an author who was born on an island off the coast of Salvador, wrote that his father confined him to the bathroom for many of Brazil’s games at the 1958 World Cup in Sweden after realizing Ribeiro was there, flushing the toilet, when Brazil scored against Austria in its first match. (My father, who is from Salvador, refuses to let my mother in the room whenever his beloved Esporte Clube Bahia plays. It is to avert the temptation of blaming her for the team’s losses, he said, of which there have been many of late.)
In Rio de Janeiro, José Ribeiro, a rapper, fasted until the end of Brazil’s friendly match against Panama on June 3, out of belief that “on an empty stomach, it’s easier to channel my energy to the players.” (Brazil beat Panama, 4-0.) In Rio de Janeiro, José Ribeiro, a rapper, fasted until the end of Brazil’s friendly against Panama on June 3, believing that “on an empty stomach, it’s easier to channel my energy to the players.” (Brazil won, 4-0.)
That afternoon, at a bar just blocks from Maracanã, Rio’s famed soccer stadium, Guilherme Vieira donned the same “lucky shirt” he was wearing when Brazil beat Spain in the finals of the Confederations Cup last year. Roberto Sant’Ana carried in his pockets the same three rocks he picked up years ago, after he heard in a dream that if he took the rocks to a stadium, any game, his team would win. That afternoon, at a bar just blocks from Estádio do Maracanã, Rio’s famed soccer stadium, Guilherme Vieira donned the same “lucky shirt” he was wearing when Brazil beat Spain in the Confederations Cup final last year. Roberto Sant’Ana carried in his pockets the same three rocks he picked up years ago, after he heard in a dream that if he took the rocks to a stadium, for any game, his team would win.
“I can’t tell you it’s 100 percent, but I’ll tell you one thing,” Sant’Ana said. When Brazil faced France in the quarterfinals of the 2006 World Cup in Germany, “security told me I couldn’t bring the rocks with me,” he said. “And Brazil lost.”“I can’t tell you it’s 100 percent, but I’ll tell you one thing,” Sant’Ana said. When Brazil faced France in the quarterfinals of the 2006 World Cup in Germany, “security told me I couldn’t bring the rocks with me,” he said. “And Brazil lost.”
Serra, the anthropologist, half-jokingly said that here “even atheists make exceptions to plead the saints for help for their team.” It almost seems as if superstition is contagious. Serra, the anthropologist, said half-jokingly that here, “even atheists make exceptions to plead the saints for help for their team.” It almost seems as if superstition is contagious.
Simon Johnson, who is from England, was a soccer fan in his home country, but hooligans were wreaking havoc at the stadiums back then, so he stayed away. When he moved to Salvador in 1993, he said, the first game he saw was a Vitória match and the team went on to reach the finals of the Brazilian championship. Simon Johnson was a soccer fan in his home country, England, but hooligans were wreaking havoc at the stadiums at the time, so he stayed away. When he moved to Salvador in 1993, Johnson said, the first game he saw featured Vitória, and the team went on to reach the Brazilian finals.
Johnson has worn the same black Bermuda shorts he had on that day to every game he has attended. They have been washed so much that they have gone from black to gray. Johnson has worn the same Bermuda shorts he had on that day to every game he has attended. They have been washed so much that they have gone from black to gray.
“The shorts,” he said, “are the key thing.”“The shorts,” he said, “are the key thing.”
Augusto César, a priest in the Candomblé religion, a mix of Roman Catholicism and African polytheism that is one of Salvador’s dominant faiths, has another theory.Augusto César, a priest in the Candomblé religion, a mix of Roman Catholicism and African polytheism that is one of Salvador’s dominant faiths, has another theory.
“Soccer is a game, like everything in life, and though you can never tell what’s going to happen when the ball starts rolling, it never hurts to ask for a little protection from above,” he said.“Soccer is a game, like everything in life, and though you can never tell what’s going to happen when the ball starts rolling, it never hurts to ask for a little protection from above,” he said.
But in the end, César conceded, “even with your saint as the arbiter, most times it’s the best team that wins.” In the end, though, César conceded, “even with your saint as the arbiter, most times, it’s the best team that wins.”