holy fucking shit: Brazil pulls a Hindenburg

Germany absolutely stomped Brazil at the World Cup with an embarrassing score of 7-1, effectively killing Brazilian hopes for a sixth championship. I haven't read any commentary yet; I only saw the score when I woke up earlier this morning.

Soccer scores generally don't go very high. Games that end at 1-0 or 3-2 are common. Scoring seven—SEVEN!—goals in a single match is a phenomenal achievement, and at this point I can only assume one of two possibilities: either Brazil was asleep at the wheel or the Germans had voodoo on their side. The first possibility is difficult to imagine; certain Brazilian players are on record talking about the enormous pressure they've felt not to let down the home audience, so they'd have had to be on their toes. But this is contradicted by the fact that the Brazilian team let seven goals through: that points to a severely impaired defense.

Then again, it's not contradictory to think the Germans might have been on fire. Perhaps they performed some magical circle-jerk before the game. Perhaps they called down the aid of the Norse gods or of some obscure, chthonian, Teutonic deities. Perhaps they doped, like Lance Armstrong. Whatever it was, the Germans had the Force with them.

So now I give in to my curiosity and read some commentary. This article makes a crucial point about sportsmanship: both the Brazilian audience and the German soccer team were classy:

By the end of this utterly mesmerising masterclass from Germany, the fans were chanting olé – and that was the Brazilian fans. Germany were so fluid in their movement, so clinical in their finishing that even the vanquished had to applaud.

Brazilians know good football and only one team played it here. Oscar pulled one back but all the awards, including a couple of Tonis, went to Germany.

Luiz Felipe Scolari pleaded for “forgiveness” afterwards. Some of his players sunk to their knees at the final whistle, holding their hands to the heavens, seeking celestial succour.

There was no clemency afforded by the faithful in the seething tribunes. The Brazilian players were an embarrassment to a famous shirt, a point their furious supporters made splenetically. Yet they stayed to the end, most of them. They saluted Germany.

Joachim Löw’s players responded sportingly, going around consoling the defeated, even waiting respectfully while the likes of David Luiz finished their praying. Germany are a class act before, during and after the 90 minutes. Strong too.

My brother, whose wife is Brazilian, and whose house has been flying a Brazilian flag off the front porch, calls this game an "epic failure" by Brazil. "Still can't believe it," he writes.

I almost wish I'd seen the game. Almost.

And, hey—so much for the all-Latin final, eh? What if Germany does face the Netherlands?


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