The lecture took place in the open, out on the field. It
happened last Saturday at Paris's Parc des Princes when Dunga,
Brazil's hard-assed captain, raced over to Ronaldo and, waving
his arms like an airport runway worker, showed the best soccer
player on the planet where he should have stationed himself for
the preceding free kick. No matter that the kick had just led to
a Brazilian goal and that Ronaldo was busy celebrating his
team's 2-0 lead over Chile. Dunga felt that Brazil was
struggling, and afterward coach Mario Zagallo agreed. "In the
first half there was confusion, and we didn't play well,"
Zagallo said. "In the second half we finally settled things down."
Rivaldo has soared in Brazil's midfield, even if
he's irked about where he plays.
(Simon Bruty)
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Brazil won the second-round game 4-1 to set up a Friday
quarterfinal against Denmark, though you wouldn't have known it
from watching Dunga or by listening to the team's fickle
supporters. As usual, they whistled derisively at Zagallo, but
they also whistled at Taffarel, the goalkeeper, for shanking a
goal kick out-of-bounds; at Bebeto, the striker, for letting a
through-ball race past him; and even at Ronaldo, for overlobbing
Bebeto on a crossing pass. "I'm 34 years old, and this is the
first time I have ever been whistled at in my career with the
national team," said Bebeto, a hero of the '94 World Cup.
"Sometimes I don't understand our fans."
To the ordinary observer, watching Brazil was like walking
wide-eyed through a carnival midway: flashing lights here,
prizes on display there, cotton candy everywhere. Midfielder
Cesar Sampaio scored the first two goals, but—look!—there was
Ronaldo, finally living up to the expectations implied by the
two 10-story billboards bearing his likeness outside the
stadium. He scored only once in the three first-round games, but
against Chile he made the wet Paris sod look like the Bonneville
Salt Flats. Just before intermission Ronaldo streaked freely
down the gut and earned a penalty that he converted with
precision. In the second half, moments after Chile's Marcelo
Salas made the score 3-1, he rocketed through the middle again
and fired a worm burner past goalkeeper Nelson Tapia. Il
Fenomeno, as the Italians call Ronaldo, was back. "He had a
better match tonight," said Zagallo, "but he can still give a
lot more."
Even with Ronaldo on form, the Brazilians' chances of winning
their fifth championship depend on whether they can keep from
grabbing at each other's throats. In recent weeks they have
resembled the '78 Yankees, bursting with talent yet racked by
squabbling. Dunga and Bebeto engaged in an ugly on-field
shouting match during a first-round game against Morocco; after
a 2-1 loss to Norway, Ronaldo and playmaker Rivaldo complained
that Zagallo had asked them to play out of position—Ronaldo far
back in midfield and Rivaldo away from his accustomed left side.
Nor did free-kick maestro Roberto Carlos help matters last week
when he claimed that he, and not Ronaldo, was Brazil's true
star. Last Thursday the team held a closed-door meeting, and
tempers appeared to have cooled before the game with Chile.
"Each of us may have a differing opinion, but there are no
problems," Dunga said the next day. "It is very important that
everyone is able to fully express himself to achieve a common
objective."
Issue date: July 6, 1998
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