Life Imitates Soccer

Oscar Wilde, the famous Irish writer, once said that "Life imitates Art far more than Art imitates Life." I am not sure if I am in agreement with him, but who I am to judge? Wilde felt that he belonged to a culture of male love inspired by a certain Greek tradition, and if I know one thing, it's that gay guys and Greeks know a lot more about art than me. Now while I myself would never consider soccer "art," at least not in the classical sense, there are some parts of the world where this argument has been made. This loose connection between soccer and art came to me one day while watching a Brazilian league game. The realization occurred suddenly and I could only think of Wilde's famous quote, only in a slightly different sense. I realized with absolute clarity that in Brazil, life is simply imitating soccer. Allow me explain. As opposed to popular belief, Brazilian soccer, especially the league soccer which is what I was watching at the time, is really a mess. There is shockingly little organization. I strongly prefer to watch England's Premier League, which is heavy on tactical organization, teamwork, passing, etc. As I was watching the Brazilian game, I realized that the teams had none of the traits that I love about English soccer. It's because Brazilian soccer is the total opposite. Basically, it's just a bunch of guys doing their own individual thing with zero planning, yet every once in awhile something beautiful will happen. And that's when it hit me. Life in Brazil is exactly like the game they love. Everyone is sort of doing their own thing while running around somewhat aimlessly. Their is very little strategic planning and absolutely zero organization. Each person happily keeps the "ball" for himself to show off his individual skills. In order to get the "ball" for yourself, you might have to do something "dirty" to get it. And if that doesn't work, you can always fake it by acting like you just got stabbed in the leg by a pitchfork and hope that the ruling, if you will, goes your way. Yet, every so often, a few magical things are strung together and there is an undeniably beautiful result, usually at the very last minute. Is this not life in Brazil? I say yes, and thus I believe in the following: in Brazil, life imitates soccer....

As the World Cup nears, it's interesting to follow the preparations. Not surprisingly, things are already far behind schedule and over budget. The stadium in São Paulo, which is set to host the opening game, still has no approved project and initial estimates put the price at THREE times the original estimate. They are even building a stadium in a city where the only local team plays in the D League. That's like if the NFL decided to build a stadium for the Super Bowl in Albuquerque. Sure, people will go there for the Super Bowl but what the hell are you going to do with the stadium after it's over??? Even the soccer legend, Pele, is worried saying "Brazil is running a great risk of embarrassing us in how it runs the World Cup." Many friends and family members from home have asked me if I think the country will be ready by the time the WC arrives in 2014. It's kind of like asking if I know what Apple's stock price will be in a year from now. I just don't have a clue. What I can say is this. I think many people will be shocked by the infrastructure, or lack thereof. Most people think that the BRIC countries (Brazil, Russia, India and China) are on the cutting edge because of how fast they are growing. That couldn't be further from the truth. The countries are growing so fast that it's impossible to keep up, and it doesn't take much at all to get reminded that these are still third world countries. I was in São Paulo last week and was astounded by two things, the traffic and disparity in wealth (as is typical in emerging countries). In one area I saw 20 new buildings being built at least and not a single new road being built all while sitting in bumper to bumper traffic in the middle of a Saturday. As for my hotel, it was located a block away from an area with more prostitutes than Charlie Sheen's tour bus. On top of that, not once but twice was I in a taxi where we were approaching the hotel (I'm talking 10 seconds away) only to arrive 30 minutes later because the taxi drivers got lost right before the final turn. It wasn't that the taxi driver was trying to screw us. The roads area literally that confusing. We had to break out the GPS to find our way back. On the upside, I saw a lot of hookers. After four days of non-stop work and the stress of the São Paulo logistics, we were all dying to go home. After our final taxi ride (of which we had to take two taxis at R$80 each because it's illegal for a taxi to take 5 people - you can snort heroin on the sidewalk but 5 people in a taxi? Absolutely out of the question!), we arrived at airport to a scene that was not unlike what I imagine JFK airport looked like on 9/11. I was absolutely shocked as I had never seen such chaos in an airport in my life. There were hundreds of people shuffling around fighting for space as lines were disregarded entirely and any semblance of order was thrown out the window. I was certain that we would not get out of there for hours, if not the next day. I was already evaluating the shady hotels across the street for our night's accommodations. Somehow, our manager talked to one person, then another, and then amazingly arrived at the ticket counter within 5 minutes (I knew she was a good hire!). She then brazenly called us to the counter. With several bags full of the traditional franchise fair leftovers (flyers, manuals, business cards, etc.) and a trail full of angry people, we incredibly made it to the front. To this day I don't know what happened but somehow we were changed to an earlier flight and were politely asked to get the hell of out there and on to the gate by the check-in attendant. I was in no position to question her authority. After the security screening, which I love because Mr. T could walk through without the sensor going off, and the traditional bus ride to the plane (passenger boarding bridges have apparently yet to arrive in Brazil) we were comfortably in our seats and on our way. It took me a few minutes to digest what the hell just happened and only one thought came to my mind: in Brazil, there is always hope....