A fortnight before he died of heart attack at the age of 79, the fall guy of Maracanazo, goalkeeper Moacir Barbosa, wrote a touching epitaph for his life and career: “Under Brazilian law, the maximum sentence is 30 years. But my imprisonment has been for 50 years.”
The pain of the defeat and the condemnation haunted him for the rest of his life so much so that he never played for the country again, his club career instantly plummeted, and there were rumours that he used to steal the goalposts of the Maracana and barbeque them to burn his pain. No other Brazilian footballer may have endured such scornful damnation as Barbosa, nor will anyone in this more forgiving milieu, but few other countries – neither its public nor the players — take defeat as tragically as Brazil, or find a compelling parable with the nation’s morale.
The chroniclers would thus connect their latest defeat to the country’s plunging economy, the debilitating recession, their most influential leader in recent times Lula da Silva being in prison, and the looming prospect of Jair Bolsonaro, called the Trump of the Tropics, poised for another presidential stint.
Several years after Barbosa’s unforgiven foibles, when Tele Santana’s bunch of electric artistes failed to win the World Cup, its much maligned striker Serginho carried the can of defeat. Their talismanic leader, Socrates, resumed his heavy drinking and smoking habits. Santana himself took to evangelism and disappeared into the Middle East before being afforded a second chance.