"Joga Bonito": A lesson in football for World Champions Italy

“Joga bonito” comes from a Portuguese phrase meaning ‘PLAY BEAUTIFULLY’. I sincerely wish that this time the World Cup is hoisted by someone who complies with the phrase.

I am making this plea because the last time I sat down watching a World Cup final I saw my hopes being crushed, firstly by an idol who, in a moment of madness pressed the self destruct button, and secondly by a lottery of a penalty shoot out where Italians won it. I always believed it that the best team won it, the team who played the best football throughout the competition, but what did I know? And later the scenes of Italians rejoicing on their victory.

Tugging and kissing the jules rimet trophy, it was saddening. To add to it the news of the trophy being broken by the Italians during celebrations was like rubbing salt in the wounds. I mean you work your socks off for winning a thing and when you get it, you can’t even handle it properly? doofus ! Italy didn’t play the best football..They were a cohesive unit but they didn’t play great, I REPEAT!

Fabio Cannavaro behaved like a doofus. He broke the trophy and reports said that he had slept with it after the victory.

When you think of the champions you see a team that beats everybody hands down, that doesn’t rely or perhaps most efficiently uses the luck or the opportunity provided to it, that doesn’t beat round the bush giving excuses, singling out individuals for their mistakes. Champions have a stature, they win with pride, honesty. I am reminded of the West Indian cricket team of the 70s and 80s. For me they were champions in true sense, no question about their ruthlessness, fierceness and competitiveness but they were always fair, they played with a spirit and not blindly for success and that’s why they are still revered by many. And perhaps this wasn’t there to be seen in the last world cup. I didn’t have the same kind of respect for Italians winning the trophy.

I know it’s not always about the beautiful game, the flair and silken passing, glorious touches, exquisite moves, but still that’s what I look in my winner. Winners win or for that matter lose with grace. And I felt a wee bit pang about how Zidane was dismissed, I know there were insults being hurled upon him but he gave into the motives of Materazzi and lost it. Or perhaps the way Cristiano Ronaldo got Rooney red carded. This is the shallow stuff, you can win doing these things but you can’t be a winner at the end of the day.

Beauty is not only in the skills, techniques and moves but also in the perseverance, passion and morality of players and team. For me Marco Tardelli’s goal celebrations in 82 were beautiful, or the way Iran won it against USA in 98. At least on the football pitch, a victory of East against the ever so bully West or the way Beckham redeemed himself for the school boyish error in 98 for which he was haunted throughout in 2002 when he scored from the spot to sink Argentina. These are beautiful …because you feel like going to the person and hugging him, you feel connected, you feel true, you feel the passion, you have these weird Goosebumps thinking about these moments..because the feelings are so pure, so real or to say so “beautiful”.