The front cover of The New York Times Sunday edition shows a picture of a group of kids playing soccer in a dirt field in Rio de Janeiro, which leads to the article “In Brazil, Unpaved Path To Excellence” by Larry Rohter. Before I continue is important to admit that living in Toronto has a certain magic during the ; it does feel like the “city that always wins the world cup” (thanks Tom) because regardless of who plays, wins or looses there are always people celebrating loudly on the streets, showcasing their national pride. Toronto citizens represent all and every single one of the countries playing the World Cup. So call it fever if you wish, but I had to write about it.

The article explains how while Brazil seems to always produce the top players of the game, this is not the result of a well thought plan. The reality is different:

the country’s record five World Cup championships are more a result of popular passion for the beautiful game, as it is often called here, than of any organized apparatus that methodically finds and develops players.

I haven’t decided if the front cover space is a result of the generalized frustration from the American media with the fact that the United States was disqualified in the first round of the championship, thus diluting further opportunities to capitalize on the attention of the American public which already was very apathetic to the sport or a well justified frustration with how the sport has been marketed to youngsters without really producing great results. In any case, the picture of those kids playing in the dirt seems to suggest that this is a sport of poor people. In fact, the article supports this fact:

Of the 23 players on the [brazilian] squad competing in Germany this month, only three come from a background that would be considered middle class here. Most of the players, whether they were born in cities or in the countryside, come from families that are humble, the preferred term for poverty here.

is a great example of how a simple human activity has become part of a culture by creating symbols that elevate the significance of such activity. That is the definition of culture according to the Wikipedia. I don’t need to explain the ritual of soccer, with all its rules whether playing an official game or an improvised one in a dirt field, which have evolved over a period of many decades. Playing soccer, as a cultural activity goes well beyond shooting a ball into a net. It feeds self-esteem, gives rank, defines identity, requires practice, segregates those who don’t play, elevates those who do, equalizes players, polarizes spectators. Symbols are all over the place.

But as every instance of human activity that attracts so many people, there are other interests at play. Just watch any of the World Cup games on TV and take note of the global brands sponsoring the event. You’ll likely recognize most of them. They have captured your attention and that of millions of spectators. They are also throwing money at the sport throughout the year by owning or supporting leagues and teams around the world, which in turn are digging deep into the brazilian culture trying to figure out how to win big:

In hopes of getting an early look at future stars, teams in Italy, England, Spain and Belgium have either bought pieces of Brazilian clubs or signed development deals with them. They are also bypassing the clubs and the player agents by sending their own scouts to scour the backlands and the urban slums for exportable talent

You have to wonder what kind of impact this will have on the pure cultural manifestation. Can brazilians preserve that important part of their cultural heritage amid the ongoing bombardment from higher interests? It is an important warning to other cultural manifestations about the price there is to pay for reaching global influence.

In the US where this sport is barely popular, the tactics are a little different: instead of recruiting young players and bring them into their ignored professional league (there is a Major League Soccer), they’ve decided to buy whole teams, fans included. Or so we assume from the arrival of the first Latino team, Chivas USA.

According to Andres Martinez from the LA Times, soccer is the one form of mass global culture that is not made in America, but that doesn’t affect the formula:

Globalization being such an American phenomenon, one of the intriguing subplots of the soccer-versus-U.S. sports showdown is that such U.S. multinationals as Coca-Cola and Nike, whose “Joga Bonito” billboards plugging World Cup personalities are plastered all over China, are among soccer’s leading marketers. For them, there is simply no passing up the most popular sporting event on Earth.