Ironic, then, that the test before them was to beat a Brazil team that had finished second in its group after losing to Mexico in the first round of the tournament. The practitioners of the jogo bonito had demonstrated heart and guts to make it through to the final, but needed penalty kicks to get past Uruguay in the semi-final and with the exception of their 6-1 demolition of Chile had rarely shown any beautiful play. The expectations for Brazil were lower entering the tournament, because their shiniest stars, Kaka and Ronaldinho, had elected to sit the tournament out after grueling European seasons. But in Brazil the expectation is always to win. Nothing else satisfies. Coach Dunga said , "Argentina is the favorite given what it has done so far, without a doubt. But Brazil has to play with the obligation of winning." The quote should give you some idea of what kind of guy Dunga was as a butt-kicking recessed midfielder for the 1994 World Cup champs. The team he built for the tournament was not about samba soccer as much as it was about team concept and work-rate.
Argentine coach
Alfio Basile , on the opposite side, had chosen the best players his country could offer for the tournament. Basile is a gentle mastermind, a large distinguished Argentine man with deep bags under his eyes, messy grey hair, and a protuberant red nose. Like Brazil, Argentina needed a result from Copa America to re-instill the country's pride after a poor World Cup showing. Accordingly, Basile's starting line-up was a who's who in world football and perhaps its most endearing quality, was that it featured three players decidedly past their international playing primes: Zanetti, Veron, and Crespo. All three players have been stars for Argentina for well over a decade and all three have just finished good seasons. Zanetti is one of the classiest outside defenders of his generation, having had long-term success at Inter Milan. Veron failed to emerge as a national hero in the 2002 World Cup but is a midfield player who has played at the best clubs in Europe-Lazio, Parma, Chelsea, Man U-among others. He is a long-legged runner who at his best can open up defenses with searching balls in the gaps.
Crespo is simply one of the greatest goal-scorers I've ever seen. He's still at it for Inter Milan and if you give him half a chance, it's buried. Sadly for Argentina, he hurt his quadriceps at the end of their second game and did not player after.
These old timers joined a team with a group of players in their prime that included
Lionel Messi , Riquelme, Carlos Tevez, Javier Mascherano, Pablo Aimar, Esteban Cambiasso. Of these Messi and
Riquelme are the most remarkable. Messi is the new Maradona. He runs at defenses with superior speed, quickness, balance, and technique and
a glimpse at his top ten goals of the last season would amply demonstrate why he draws comparison to the greatest Argentine player of all time. Riquelme is a different case. He has not yet enjoyed success in Europe but he has dominated Argentina football from his spot in Boca Juniors midfield for so long and with such flair that he has to be considered one of the world's best. He can change a game with one touch, at anytime from anywhere.
Brazil's workmanlike squad had relied on the scoring skill of Robinho, Real Madrid's wing forward and
a true practitioner of ginga . He came into the final as the tournaments leading scorer with six goals. Vagner Love, a supremely shifty forward who plays for CSK Moscow and Julio "The Beast" Baptista, Arsenal's mercurial striker, rounded out Brazil's attacking corps. But the real story all tournament long had been Brazil's defense, anchored by PSV Eindhoven center back Alex and Roma's superb goalkeeper Doni, and supported by outsides Gilberto and Maicon.
The game began quickly in front of a packed house in Maracaibo, all of South America watching to see which of the super powers would win. Generally only Argentinos pull for Argentina, and all the world bleeds blue, green, and gold, but this Argentine team had won a lot of fans. It did not take long for the plot to thicken. Baptista chased down a searching ball in the corner of Argentina's area, squared up his defender, who was too cautious, took a touch to create space, and slammed a curling strike into the far upper corner. 1-0 to Brazil with only four minutes gone.
I sat up in my seat, salivating. It was the best possible scenario, an early goal for Brazil so the favored Argentines would have to step it up and let it all hang out. Brazil, though, reacted to its early lead by sitting deep and contesting every ball in the midfield. They fouled early and often, particularly when Messi and Riquelme got touches on the ball. The game could have changed dramatically in the tenth minute when Veron knocked a header down to Riquelme's magic feet, and the Argentine playmaker mashed a volley off the post in stride. The game can be a matter of inches.
Vagner Love stayed alone up top, with Robinho finding the recessed inside channel on either side of him and Baptista running back and forth straight down the middle of the field. The first half became a physical battle. Argentina had weathered similar contests earlier in the tournament, before unleashing on its opponents when the game opened up some in the second half. I thought that pattern might hold in this game until disaster struck for Argentina just before half time. Danny Alves made a beautiful move in the box and got to the touch line, clipped a crisp near post cross on the ground in front of the Argentine goal. A line of players wearing both colors crashed towards the Argentine net. The keeper, Abbondanzieri, appeared to have the angle covered but defender Ayala slid in to clear and put the ball in the back of his own net. 2-0 Brazil, a tall order for Argentina.
I thought Basile would shake things up at halftime by taking off Veron for Real Madrid midfielder Gago, whose younger legs might add some fight to a midfield that was being outfought. But he didn't. He left his team out there. Argentina had real trouble finding Messi, and when they did, Brazil chopped him down and then defended the set pieces in the air extremely confidently. Riquelme could not find any space at all either, and as a result the field felt very small and narrow. The game was an ugly one. Brazil had only a few chances. Another came on a counter attack in the 60th minute when Vagner Love picked up the ball with room to run at Argentina's back line. He is an incredible calm attacking player and he cut inside, let the angles form, and slipped Danny Alves through behind the last defender. Alves arrived at the ball with just enough angle and slammed his shot into the opposite corner. 3-0 Brazil. Game Over.
Argentina began to frustrate. You could see that they wanted to play two more games in a row, that they believed they were better in every way than their opponents. But the reality of the moment closed in on them. Brazil was extremely athletic in defense. Maicon and Gilberto ruled their wings. With a three goal lead Brazil was happy to chase, foul, re-organize, and defend. Aimar came on for Basile but too late to make an impact. Argentina missed Crespo badly on set pieces.
And the game ended that way. Brazil has always played the world's most beautiful game, and sometimes suffered for it. Argentina has always been a tough, organized, cynical team that relies on magic strikers to win. The roles were reversed on Sunday. Dunga is a Euro Brazilian, a man with roots in Germany and Italy. When you think of Brazil, you think of samba, capoeira, beach soccer,
ginga . But with the rise to prominence of MMA fighting, footballing nations would do well to remember that one of Brazil's top sporting exports is its particular brand of
jiu-jitsu , which combines Japanese technique and discipline with the athletic flexibility of Brazilian capoeira. The result of its successful application is a choke out, which is what Argentina felt last night.
"We are totally ruined,"
said Esteban Cambiasso . "Losing like this penetrates your soul."
Sunday night's Copa America final between Argentina and Brazil was a clash of football titans, a game expected to bring the fever pitch of a World Cup final. Argentina had carved a murderous path through the draw en route to the final, outscoring its opponents 15-3 and advertising the resurgence of its playmaker Juan Roman Riquelme every step of the way. I sat down to watch the game at Small Bar in Chicago, the pub that sponsors my Sunday league team. The guy next to me said he normally wouldn't pull for Argentina, but that this team was different. "They play beautifully," he said. "And I'll pull for that."
