A bit of poetry by the great NELSON RODRIGUES

[Ze da Fiel]

- What counts really iis the ball and the kid, and by a ball you can think about a coconut, an orange or an egg, because I've seen people juggle an egg! If a football can be considered the sublimation of a coconut, or a rehabilitation of an egg, the official pitch is nothing more than a boring rectangle. That's why, in the spare time , our professinals look for a kick around or foot-volley, like Garrrincha left his bots in the Maracana to play in Pau Grande. Its the ball and the kid, the kid and the ball. Chico Buarque

- The relation between the people and football has been so intense and
productive, that many Brazilians forget that football was invented in England and think that like the Mulata, Samba, Feijoada and "saudade" a Brazilian product. Roberto da Matta

- The most sordid kick about, has a shakesperian complexity. Nelson Rodrigues

-The beauty of football, is really, to be an anti-theatre, although it fits in equally a tragedy and a comedy. Although it has a text, a vocabulary, its organization has to be re-thought at each minute. Gerald Thomas

- Football, lads, its not only tactics and technique, its poetry, emotion, history. Football builds a moral, an ideology, a feeling of justice and injustice, and above all it teaches us to live with the impoderable. Matinas Suzuki Jr.

- Go and study the football of Domingos da Guia or the licterature of Machado de Assis that you will find in each one's root, the brazilian autenticity, a little bit of
Samba, a little bit of the smartness of Bahia, or even the Capoeira of Pernambuco, or the smarteness of of a Carioca. With these elements, is that Brazilian football left the well ordered original British football, to become a dance full of irrational surprises and Dionisic variations that it is. Gilberto Freyre , 1947

-It would be impossible this magical football, elastic, acrobatic, if their was not the Brazilian man. Nelson Rodrigues

- Their is no crime in the bottom half of the Equator. Chico Buarque

-The use of the feet , differently of the use of the hand, oblies the inclusion of all the body, specially the legs, the hips and the waist. These parts of human anatomy, that in the case of Brazilian society, is the aim of an organized simbolism. Roberto da Matta

-Football-force has a stylewere the importance of training (consequently on racionality) is bigger and more intense. Roberto da Matta

- A dribble of Garrincha, a header of Pele, a dead leaf of DIdi are the perfection of the Brazilian behaviour on the problems of existence. They are malicious, they invent, they have the Brazilian little way. Paulo Mendes Campos

- After each play of Garrincha, I felt the happiness that only the prime work of art arouse. Nelson Rodrigues

-Its a boy , a kid. If he wanted to get into a film of Brigitte Bardot, he would be banned. But notice: he is a genius, with no doubt. I say and repeat: Pele could look to Michelangelo, Homero or Dante and greet them with an intimate efusion. Nelson Rodrigues.

-While Pele left the public with their mouths open, surprised, admired wherever he went, Garrincha made the stadium laugh. Their being the happiniess of the people. Garrincha was Chaplin , Pele was Spielberg. Juca Kfouri

-The English papers say the following of our Footbnall: IT SHOULD BE PROHIBITED TO PLAY SO BEAUTIFUL. Nelson Rodrigues, 1970

-The knowledge of Brazil goes thorough football. Jose LIns do Rego

-Football gives the Brazilian society an experince of equality and social justice. Roberto da Matta

- The Selecao (national team selection) is the nation in shorts and boots. Nelson Rodrigues

-I stopped believing in God the day I saw Brasil lose thw WC in the Maracana.Carlos Heitor Cony

-We think that God does not like football. And therefore, we exclude him from the atributions of our support. Well, no Brazilian can be nothing, in football or outside, without your medal in the neck, without its saints, without its promises and without its personall God inexangeble. Its this mistical Arsenal that explains the big victoties. Nelson Rodrigues

-Their has never been a neutral supporter since paradise. Only a mental
retarded,can be fair in a sport histerically emotional. Nelson Rodrigues

- Their probably will be the day were Flamengo will not need players, nor
managers, nothing. Only the shirt, opened in the arch. And, confronted witht the impotent furor of its opponent the black and red shirt will be a inexpugable bastille. Nelson Rodrigues

-Their is in the goal the same emotional force as in sex. Achilles Chirol

- THE WORLD CUP IS OURS!. Brasil , 1958

[Ze da Fiel]

am the freed Patativa,
Who sings outside the cage,
A well rounded and correct
Verse I have personally made
To offer well earned praise
To the famous ballplayers
Of this ball-happy Brazil

I sing the forest and the streets,
The earth and the afterglow,
At night I praise the moonlight
And the sunshine by day,
Very proud am I of being a child
Of my beloved country Brazil
Football’s very own homeland

Football’s no child’s play,
It is true adventure instead.
Whenever fear is not there
Victory is assured,
The World Cup is drawing near
To reveal those who don’t fear
This tough and major dispute

Let’s go, my people, my kin,
Under this wide blue sky,
Black and white, old and young,
Mustering our strength, our will,
One holding the other’s hand,
Cheering this great football team
Of our beloved Brazil

I always offer sport
My very first morning prayer,
East, west, south, and north
I am a football fan,
And the inspiration of my lyre
Praises both the little league
And the great Maracanã

There is always a way
To face life, day by day.
Some suffer their fate today,
And enjoy tomorrow instead.
And we know that meadows
Are but a crude ladder-step
For a ballplayer to ascend

Meadows have seen the hardship
Faced by Viola, our player
But today his feet kick strong
And grass is his ball’s layer,
This fearless all-star champion
Is popular and cheered at will
Throughout ball-happy Brazil

Go, Viola, for your path
Was set by God Almighty,
Meadows saw your beginnings
But then your degree conquered
Calm, cool and collected,
You use every trick and knowledge
Taught you by the barren soil

The Brazilian National Team
Scores high among world’s best,
Praising magic football shoes,
Sings merrily the nightingale
Full of hope and full of faith,
For ours is King Pelé,
Football’s idol, great and strong

[Ze da Fiel]

Sir Football was a renowned Englishman who travelled abroad in order
to colonize natives and force them into field labour. He landed in Brazil
where to his delight he found indigenous people, bananas, and voodoos.
"This is going to be a piece of cake", he thought through his top-hat.
And he didn’t waste any time. With his fierce hooligan soldiers he initiated
his evil doings by challenging a local tribe that was observing their antics
with suspicion and mockery. "Pretty nice Jesuits, don’t play too bad, call
the chief to have a look."
The noble Englishman gesticulated, shouted, commanded, while also
trying to hide tactical aspects of the game. Chief Pelé enters the field. He
takes hold of the ball, smells it, shakes the gringos "coconut" and
performs a series of radical maneuvers (later to be known as
"embaixadas") which the Englishmen imagined to be some sort of
homage paid by the chief to show submission. In reality, it was a sign for
the natives to assume their positions on the pitch for an all out attack. Sir
Football and his hooligans came close, I mean really close, to being
transformed into bowling pins, which would have consequently changed
the name of the game forever.
Chief Pelé and his tribe didn’t give the Englishmen a chance to get near,
much less touch the ball (this is the origin of the current Brazilian
expression "only for English eyes").
But they finally managed to have a penalty called in their favor, the score
already being more than 1,000 goals to O for the natives. The situation
was chaotic, when suddenly Sir Football had the brilliant idea to offer a
bet: "Your kingdom for a goal!!!"
Chief Pelé accepted, and to everyone’s astonishment, went to lie down in
his hammock for a nap. Sir Football himself got into position to take the
penalty, made ready, smirked a malicious smile, and kicked... kicked
hard... kicked with class... kicked the ball smack into the crossbar! It was
a nice crossbar made up of two charming banana trees that, with the
ball’s impact, dropped a bunch of bananas into the goal, adding the final
touch to the Englishmen’s humiliation.
Contrary to legend, Sir Football didn’t end up as the main course at the
natives victory banquet. He did though, humbly substitute his top-hat (as
from now a symbol of power) for a colored gourd, and departed with a few
remaining odds and ends, for England. It is said that he changed his
name to "Futebol" to be able to enter his Kingdom unnoticed.
As for the hooligans, they never managed to play again and so formed a
sort of guerrilla brotherhood known to operate undercover among English
soccer fans.
Pelé is well known today all over the world as the biggest "Top-Hat"
Hunter around. His collection is visited daily by people from all over the
world who are interested in the art of scoring more than 1,000 goals per
game.

[Ze da Fiel]

Edelvésio."
"What kind of name is that supposed to be?"
"Edelvésio looked down, but didn’t smile. Then he raised
his eyes and faced the coach. Still no smile.
"What position?", the coach asked.
"Midfield."
"Right foot or left?"
"Both."
The coach gave him the shirt and said:
"Go on in."
Edelvésio went. It was a practice match to select players. A
long queue with contenders. Only a few minutes for each
player to show his skills. Edelvésio showed his. He was
good. And he could really kick with both feet. The coach later
said:
"You stay." But added, "Edelvésio has got to go."
"That’s my name."
"Don’t you have a nickname?"
"No."
"Dedé? Vevé? Delinho?"
"No."
"What do they call you at home?"
"Edelvésio."
"It’s no good. You’ve got to find yourself a nickname."
"I don’t want to."
The coach got nervous.
"What do you mean, you don’t want to? Since when does a
player have the right to want anything? I do. Edelvésio’s no
good."
"Why not?"
The coach made a gesture sending Edelvésio away.
"Want to know something? You can leave. Piss off."
Edelvésio turned his back to the coach and began to walk
away.
"Wait", the coach said.
He’d remebered Edelvésio kicking with both his feet. He
needed a player like him. He put one hand on his shoulder
and said:
"It doesn’t have to be a nickname. What’s your last name?"
"Santos."
"You could be Santos."
"No."
"Invent another name then. Mauro. How about Mauro? Or
Silas? Silas is perfect for a footballer. Both maybe: Mauro
Silas. Your future is assured. Anyone with a name like Mauro
Silas will be selected for the National Team just because of
his name. Adversely, an Edelvésio goes nowhere."
"No."
"Edmilson. How’s that?. I’d accept an Edmilson. It sounds
like Edelvésio."
"No."
"Edel. It could be Edel."
"No."
"You don’t want to cooperate, do you? Why not?"
"Because my name is Edelvésio."
The coach lost his temper. Definitely.
"You can go then."


Weeks later, at the start of the season, and the coach’s
team was in trouble in their first match. It was supposed to
be an easy game, but the opposition had one hell of a player
wearing number.10. He was the man of the match. And he
kicked with both his feet. He had scored first with his left and
then with his right foot.
"I know that guy", the coach said.
But there was no Edelvésio on the other team’s roster.
He checked again. There it was. It had to be him. But his
name wasn’t there. Just his nickname.
"Stubb