Fleeting flash of Samba magic is enough

THEY made us wait.

Forty-four minutes had elapsed in Berlin last night before Brazil finally did that thing they do so well.

Up to that point they had been well contained by Croatia, the full samba production we’d been expecting more or less confined to edited highlights: a Roberto Carlos rocket tipped over his bar by Stipe Pletikosi, some fine work from the ever-inventive Kaka, and the odd flash of ball juggling wizardry from Ronaldinho.

On the 35th minute, during a stoppage in play, the world’s greatest player was at the centre of a hastily convened team meeting in the centre circle.

Clearly, the concern in the ranks of the yellow and blue was urgent enough not to be deferred until half time. But even from high up in the press box it was obvious what item should have been top of the agenda — the fact that at the apex of the attack Ronaldo was fluffing all his lines and Brazil were getting little in the way of useful prompts from Adriano. Sure, there were some lovely passing moves to savour but, as half time approached, it was the industrious Emerson, always alert in front of the back four, who was often outshining the superstars.

Then, suddenly, it really was just like watching Brazil. The ageless Cafu fed a ball in from the right wing. Kaka, 25 yards from goal, took one touch to tee it up and take out his marker and then, with his left foot, uncorked a perfect shot which swerved inside the post.

That should have given Brazil the inspiration to press home their advantage but it was Croatia who emerged the more determined side after the break, quickly forcing Dida into his first saves of the game. Almost an hour had gone before Ronaldo had his first sight of goal, firing just over from distance after the increasingly influential Kaka had found him in acres of space.

It was no surprise when Big Ron was replaced by Robinho just short of the 70-minute mark, and the starlet almost made an immediate impression, firing in the angled drive Adriano put wide with the goal at his mercy.

After that, the game unfolded as an open, compelling spectacle. One-nil is always a fragile lead but not even the fervour and flares of the Croatian support could drag their side level, and in the end it was the South American supporters who got to celebrate.

Brazil deserved it but, if they are to go all the way to a sixth World Cup triumph, they will have to solve what can only be called a striking problem.

The radically converted Olympiastadion — last night awash with 72,000 in yellow and red — provided an imposing backdrop for the game.

It was sobering and uplifting to think that a stadium with its origins in the darkest of times — whose monumental stonework still evokes the Third Reich — should play host 70 years later to an evening devoted to mood-enhancing entertainment. “A time to make friends” and “Say no to racism” are the twin themes of all the games of this World Cup and, while those slogans may reflect the wish rather than the reality, only the chronically prejudiced could deny that the footballers from Brazil always try to do their bit to make the world a better place.

Which reminds me to relay to you the World Cup joke doing the rounds at the moment.

Ronaldinho walks into the dressing room an hour before a game between Brazil and England to find his team mates looking glum. They simply can’t motivate themselves about the prospect of taking on the English, a team they regard as much inferior to their own. “Tell you what,” says Ronaldinho, “just to make things interesting I’ll play them on my own and the rest of you can go to the pub.”

The samba boys love the idea and, after informing the main man that they will keep up with his progress via teletext, decamp en masse to the boozer.

About ten minutes after kick-off word comes through that Ronaldinho has scored — his team mates cheer and raise a glass. After that, there is no news until the 90th minute when the teletext informs them that Frank Lampard has equalised for England with virtually the last kick of the game.

Brazil aren’t too downhearted. After all, Ronaldinho has managed the incredible feat of holding England all on his own, and even at that Sven’s men had to wait until the 11th hour to salvage a point. All ready to salute their hero when he comes through the door, Kaka and company are shocked when Ronaldinho finally turns up in tears, scarcely able to look his fellow countrymen in the eye.

His trademark toothy grin nowhere to be seen, he begs his team mates to forgive him for letting the side down in such a humiliating fashion. “Don’t be silly,” he is told, “you were one and they were 11 — and they couldn’t beat you. It is a remarkable achievement.”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Ronaldinho wails, “I am ashamed because I got sent off after 12 minutes.”

Write it down Sven, it’s a good ‘un.

The past winners of the World Cup who are contesting this year’s tournament — Germany, England, Argentina, Italy, France and now Brazil — all have played by now and while it’s far too early to make watertight predictions, certain preliminary conclusions can be drawn. Brazil we will need to see again. Of football’s other traditional superpowers, Italy and Argentina seem best equipped to go the distance, both sides having already seen off challenging opposition in the shape of Ghana and Ivory Coast respectively.

When you take into account too that both nations have struggled in the past in their World Cup opening games — think of Cameroon shocking Argentina in 1990 and, of course, Ireland upsetting the Italians four years later in America — their impressive starts this time around suggest they are entitled to be considered among the top four favourites to lift the cup on July 9.

Lively Holland still await Argentina, of course, and Italy will be given a game of it by the Czech Republic, but it seems safe to say that neither will be going home early. England’s dependence on Wayne Rooney defines the concept of a high-risk strategy, while there was an air of deadening familiarity about yesterday’s scoreless draw between France and Switzerland.

Or put it another way: it was just like watching Ireland.