Men's and Women's Top 10 Tennis Rankings in 2020

How will the ATP and WTA singles rankings look like five years from now? Tennis is unpredictable and its careers short, especially on the women's side, so I only feel confident projecting into the very near future. Still, I am fairly sure that these estimates are at least approximately correct. The players' ages given below are for 2020.

WTA TOP 10 IN 2020

1. SIMONA HALEP (Romania, 28 years old. Current rank: #4)

2. GENIE BOUCHARD (Canada, 26. Current rank: #6)

3. MARIA SHARAPOVA (Russia, 33. Current rank: #3)

4. PETRA KVITOVA (Czech Republic, 30. Current rank: #2)

5. VICTORIA AZARENKA (Belarus, 30. Current rank: #27)*

6. MADISON KEYS (USA, 25. Current rank: #16)

7. GARBINE MUGURUZA (Spain, 26. Current rank: #20)

8. ANA IVANOVIC (Serbia, 30. Current rank: #7)

9. CAROLINE WOZNIACKI (Denmark, 29. Current rank: #5)

10. ELINA SVITOLINA (Russia, 25. Current rank: #21)

* = Azarenka's rank is affected by a lengthy injury in 2014, prior to which she was ranked #3.

Many up-and-coming players are excluded from this projection, either because they matured late and may be too old to make an impact in 2020 (e.g., Bacsinszky, Suarez-Navarro, Makarova) or because they're so young that their career path is unpredictable (e.g., Bencic, Garcia). Plus, there is always the possibility of a brand new star emerging in, say, 2018 and quickly making it to the top... though that has become less likely than in the past, when people like Williams, Hingis, and Sharapova herself sprung up pretty much overnight.

ATP TOP 10 IN 2020

1. GRIGOR DIMITROV (Bulgaria, 29 years old. Current rank: #11)

2. KEI NISHIKORI (Japan, 30. Current rank: #5)

3. MILOS RAONIC (Canada, 29. Current rank: #6)

4. NOVAK DJOKOVIC (Serbia, 33. Current rank: #1)

5. BORNA CORIC (Croatia, 23. Current rank: #46)

6. NICK KYRGIOS (Australia, 25. Current rank: #30)

7. DOMINIC THIEM (Austria, 26. Current rank: #31)

8. JACK SOCK (USA, 27. Current rank: #37)

9. DAVID GOFFIN (Belgium, 29. Current rank: #18)

10. ANDY MURRAY (Great Britain, 33. Current rank: #3)

Same qualifications apply as for the women: late bloomers like Lopez and Wawrinka, rising young stars, etc. Unlike for the women, though, here I've included a couple of current teenagers. A player's trajectory among the pros is a bit more predictable for the men than for the women, just as men's tennis is generally less prone to upsets and surprises. Coric is showing the same talent and skill set that Djokovic did as his age, so that's promising. Dimitrov is also following Nole's career, from the early promise of greatness to a somewhat delayed emergence into the top 10 -- but according to most, myself included, he is the only young-ish player to have the numbers to make it to #1 and win a few Majors. Finally, Kyrgios's success depends entirely on his ability to mature emotionally, which right now is a big "if." Fellow Aussie youngsters like Tomic and Kokkinakis could also rise to the top 10, but in my view they stand one notch below Kyrgios.

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Patience isn't a virtue: the case for shorter sporting events

Sometimes, when you love something, you say "I can't get enough of it." Except I can. I love sports, but one of my biggest pet peeves is that they last too long. I may have a short attention span, or I may watch so many events (some weekends up to 20-30 games) that brevity has become a virtue.

Or then again it may be that sporting action is painfully repetitive. Yes, the point of sports isn't just excellence, but consistent excellence over time -- but that's why we have leagues and championships. Consistent excellence is already tested over the course of a full season against multiple opponents in different playing conditions, so it need not be tested at length in each game too.

This is a matter of nuance, not of nature. Each game must be of some length, including ample time for breaks, warm-ups, build-ups, and a variety of physiological factors; for example, optimal physical performance in association football/soccer is generally achieved about 20 minutes into a game and begins fading about 20 minutes from the end. But I don't suggest that games be so short that optimal performance cannot be achieved, for that would be counterproductive. Rather, I think that too many games last way past the point that optimal performance and audience attention have begun to fade, and thus that they're unnecessarily long.

Ultimately, I realize that my proposals are unrealistic in a number of ways. For one, most past records and statistics would be void, or at least would have to be reconsidered. While sports already do change rules from time to time -- the extra point in football, the backward pass in soccer, the rally point system in volleyball, the introduction of various video review technologies, etc -- the changes I suggest are rather radical and may alter the way the game is played, possibly forcing new strategies and new training regimens. Also, most owners, broadcasters, and sponsors would oppose such strong reductions in air time and thus in ad revenue; the financial drawbacks may be massive in some cases.

So, once again, these are perfect-world, best-case-scenario proposals. At the very least, they can point out flaws in the current system and allow us to understand what we really like about a certain sport. And while I don't believe in "I can't get enough of it," I definitely believe there can be "too much of a good thing" and that "less is more."

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American football

10 minutes to a quarter (a 33% reduction) or 15-minute halves (50% reduction). Typical games last three and a half hours, which amounts to 3.5 minutes for each minute played. My version would cut it down to a reasonable 2 hours per game. Also, in a full-contact sport like football where safety and head injuries are a significant concern, less playing time would also equal less danger.

Association football

30 minutes to a half (a 33% reduction), which would reduce the overall game length to just under 90 minutes including breaks. Alternatively, which has been discussed for a while now, introduce a "time played" clock management like in American sports, where the clock stops whenever the ball is not in play. 20 minutes of effective time played per half would be more than enough, since that's a little less than what we get now (25-30).

Tennis

For sure eliminate 5-set matches for men: they're drawn-out affairs that every tournament except for the Majors has already done away with. Three sets is plenty enough. For that matter, also reduce each game to 6 points max: first to score on 40 wins, with no deuces and advantages that make certain games last 10+ minutes. Alternatively, eliminate sets altogether and play five games with the tie-break format: alternate serves with the usual 1-2 formula, and first to 7 points wins (or 15 to keep the match length to around 2 hours). Tennis is one of the sports that suffers the most from drawn-out repetitiveness, and thus one where I think that changes would be most beneficial.

Basketball

5 minutes to a quarter. Basketball games are unnecessarily lengthy and most fans know that "the score doesn't matter: games are won or lost in the last 5 minutes anyway." Since the other three quarters are basically warm-up, at least make it a shorter warm-up.

Volleyball

This is the only major sport that already did change its rules recently in the interest of brevity, switching from a side-out to a rally-point scoring system. But it could be taken a step further and drop the best-of-five format, for again, as in tennis, three sets is enough.

Baseball

Five innings. While I wish that extra innings were gone, baseball's compartmentalized offense-defense structure doesn't lend itself to more timely tiebreakers. But even then, extra innings could be shortened to one or two outs instead of three, just as rules change in overtime in many other sports (first score wins, start from 25-yard line, etc). And, of course, there's also virtue in games ending in a tie..

Road cycling

Perhaps surprisingly, I don't think that Grand Tours should be made shorter. The three-week race format is congenial to the sport, highly spectacular, and not at all boring. But there is zero need for 200-mile stretches in a single day. In the distant past, some Tour de France stages were as long as 400 miles and took almost a full day to complete. That has changed, so it can change again. My proposal here is indeed modest: 100-mile stage cap.

Germany-Argentina: the rise and fall of Diego Armando Maradona, 1986-1990

In 84 years of World Cup there have been only two repeat finals: Italy-Brazil (1970, 1994) and Argentina-Germany (1986, 1990). Tonight, the latter becomes the first three-peat. As usual, the Italians have a word for that: la bella. Literally meaning "the beautiful one," idiomatically it means a "decider," like a best-of-3 game of rock-paper-scissors that needs a final throw after the players have split the first two. Argentina triumphed in 1986 and Germany in 1990, so this one is la bella.

But tonight is not about bragging rights, nor about history. Especially for those involved, tonight is about tonight, and there will be time to tell its story later. So here are the stories of its precedents, Argentina-West Germany at Mexico 1986 and Italy 1990.

In both cases, the unchallenged lead character is Diego Armando Maradona.

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Argentina 3-2 West Germany

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Estadio Azteca, Mexico City, 29 June 1986

attendance: 114,700    referee: Romualdo Filho (Brazil)

full match (Argentine commentary)

highlights (English commentary)

Argentina came in as favorites after a convincing World Cup campaign on the coattails of Diego Maradona's idol status. The quarterfinal against England was already iconic, with its Hand of God, the Goal of the Century, and the "barrilete cósmico!" Germany instead had struggled in the group stage and in a tough quarterfinal with host country Mexico, before again beating Platini's France in the semifinals, though much more easily than they had in 1982.

Germany were also in the middle of a major generational shift, fielding players from both the old guard (Briegel, Rummenigge, Schumacher) and the eventual 1990 squad (Matthaus, Brehme, Voller, Berthold). Argentina were young and rampant instead, playing almost no one from 1982 and almost everyone who would also be part of the 1990 squad. Maradona himself, of course, was their northern star.

Argentina's destiny seemed manifest when they were up 2-0 with 15 minutes left to play. But the Germans still had a sting in the tail. Rummenigge tapped in Brehme's corner in the small box, and six minutes later Völler equalized with a nearly identical play that caught Argentina's lazy defense with their pants down. Just like that it was 2-2, and Maradona's personal sponsor from upstairs seemed to have forsaken him.

Diego thought otherwise. He had not scored in the final after his epic doubles against England and Belgium, but he exhibited brief flashes of brilliance to remind us that he was still Diego, though temporarily inconvenienced by the heavy German marking. In the quarters he had dribbled five Englishmen on his way to history. Here, in the 84th minute, he was surrounded by five Germans at midfield, so he did what he wasn't best known for: he passed the ball. Completely unmarked, "El Burro" (the donkey) Jorge Burruchaga ran 50 yards and gently pushed the game winner past Schumacher. Argentina repealed Germany's final siege and won their second World Cup title after the Shame of 1978.

As with many famous matches, not all of it was beautiful, but the parts that were remain memorable. Just as one typically only watches the extra time of Italy-Germany 4-3, where five of the seven goals were scored, likewise one typically watches the last half-hour of Argentina-Germany 3-2.

Gallery (click to enlarge)

Teams presentation	Rummenigge's 2-1 goal (74')	Voller's 2-2 goal (81')
Burruchaga's 3-2 goal (84')	Maradona's spectacular dive (88')	El Pibe de Oro

Click here for an amazing gallery of more Diego pictures from 1986.
If you understand Italian, here is an excellent biopic about Diego.

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West Germany 1-0 Argentina

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Stadio Olimpico, Rome, 8 July 1990

attendance: 73,603    referee: Edgardo Codesal (Mexico)

full match (German commentary)
highlights (English commentary)

Chris Taylor calls the 1990 World Cup final "a crime against humanity." He's not wrong. By any accounts, this was the most disgraceful final at a major international tournament and one of the least decorous matches I've ever seen, right up there with the Battle of Santiago.

The story of this final begins in the semifinal, five days prior, with a press conference in Naples. It is worth discussing the background in some detail before talking about the match proper.

Germany's and Argentina's roles were virtually reversed from 1986. The Germans were confident after burying their opponents in the group stage (10 goals in three games), defeating their Dutch arch-rivals in a heated quarterfinal (the one with Rijkaard's spit on Völler), and advancing on penalties against England in the semi. Conversely, it was unclear how Argentina ever made it that far. They lost an embarrassing opener to Cameroon, slid by the Soviets in an outrageously violent game with broken bones and the Hand of God, part deux (this time to avoid a goal), and made their way through the knockout stages with a mixture of catenaccio, jail-worthy fouls, and a narrow semifinal win on penalties over hosts Italy.

That semifinal took place in Naples, where Maradona played for SSC Napoli. "Idolatry" does not begin to cover what the Neapolitan felt for Diego. Napoli was a small provincial team with no honors, but with Maradona and Brazilian superstar Careca they won two Italian titles and a UEFA Cup in three years. Naples is also a poor town, mostly left-wing and ravaged by organized crime, the same conditions of Diego's childhood in Villa Fiorito. He even looked southern Italian, with the short stocky physique, the frizzly black hair, and the local accent that he quickly picked up. He was one of them and they revered him as a demigod. In his autobiography Maradona says that he could never leave his house without an escort for fear of being mobbed. Southern Italian Catholics are as fetishist about their football idols as about the decomposed bones of their saints in reliquaries. You don't just love Diego: you scream for Diego, you orgasm for Diego, you spend your last dime on the ticket to watch Diego, and if you're within reach of Diego you try to rip off his clothes and touch his... Diego.

So the night before the game Maradona — the rebel, the instigator, the contrarian — told Naples: "they never thought of you as Italians: remember that tomorrow." Problem is, he was right. Naples is to Italy like the Deep South is to the United States, its inhabitants perceived as ignorant rednecks by the northern well-to-do. "Neapolitan you need a bath... from Vesuvius," says a popular Roman slur. Why would they support Italy who offends them thus, and not Diego who led them to stardom?

The plan backfired. The day of the semifinal, a large banner at the stadium read: "Maradona, Naples loves you but Italy is our homeland" (picture). The match was the usual parade of un-football, with nasty fouls from both teams, the Argentine Giusti red-carded for a punch on Roberto Baggio, and some shameful decisions by aging referee Michel Vautrot, who allowed an unprecedented EIGHT minutes of stoppage time in the second extra-time period. Schillaci scored and Caniggia equalized. On penalties, the team that had the most to lose, Italy, in fact lost.

This lengthy background sets the stage for the final. Commentators thought that the Albiceleste was untalented, dishonest, and generally undeserving of a World Cup final. The Roman crowd, which comprised mostly Italians, still held a grudge from the semi and even booed the Argentine national anthem. Diego responded with his usual class, and now he had a bone to pick with an entire country.

With these premises, the game could only be ugly. The Argentine tackled hard, the Germans tried to play, and nothing of substance happened. The crowd openly supported Germany (how quickly things change when a new villain is in town) and booed every Argentine play, further exacerbating an already tense match. The Olimpico was as loud as it was humid in the sweltering midsummer Roman heat.

In the 65th minute, Klinsmann made a scene worthy of an Academy Award after a horrible tackle from Monzón, who became the first player to ever be red-carded in a World Cup final. This further embittered the match. The referee, Egdardo Codesal, seemed unable to retain control. After a second red card, this time for Dezotti, Maradona and his teammates were nearly in tears with anger as they desperately pleaded their case, very much resembling three-year-olds without ice-cream. They did have a slight point, though. Codesal missed two outrageous penalty calls, one for each team, before awarding a dubious one to Germany for a tackle by Sensini on Völler in the 83rd minute. After prolonged Argentine protests, Matthias Brehme stayed cool and converted from the 12, allowing Germany to win the lowest-quality final in World Cup history.

Let's be clear on one thing: I don't think Germany are to blame at all for the match. They had proven themselves many times and they were undoubtedly the best team at Italia '90, along with Italy and England, who finished third and fourth. It's the Argentine that, for once, stowed away on the boat to the final, and Maradona's flair for the dramatic did the rest. If football were fair, that night we would have seen Italy-Germany like in 1982, and that one would have been the rematch. While probably it would not have been epic (two highly tactically evolved teams generally run little and score even less) at least it would not have been a kick fest. From a footballing standpoint, better a snooze than a bruise. But of course nobody writes about snoozes, whereas Germany-Argentina 1-0 is well worth an article.

As for Diego, he would leave Napoli a year later after a tormented season. He signed for Sevilla and then returned to his native Boca Juniors, but he put on weight and spiraled down into the cocaine addiction that had plagued him for years. He would be back in shape and play again, and he even scored in the group stage of the 1994 World Cup (his "cocaine eyes" goal), but this final was effectively the last game of his career as Pibe.

Gallery (click to enlarge)

Teams presentation	Maradona dribbles Buchwald and Matthaus as Burruchaga looks on	Maradona carded for protesting
Monzon carded, Klinsmann plays dead	Brehme's game-winning penalty	Goal celebration

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The story of the 1986 and 1990 World Cup finals is inevitably the story of the rise and fall of Maradona. It is not just that, but I give no apology for making it that in this piece. Surely both matches can be considered in their own right as football games, but to me football without its heroes, villains, and histories is just millionaires kicking a leather ball.

One thing's for sure: this time around there won't be a Maradona to talk about. The final of Brazil 2014 might be the consecration of Messi, the success of the Mannschaft's long-term project, or a snoozefest decided by a missed penalty. Whatever it is, there will be another story to tell.

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Top summer transfers so far

ARSENAL
Alexis Sánchez (F)  .......... from Barcelona (full ownership)

ATLETICO MADRID
Mario Mandzukic (F) ........ from Bayern Munich (full ownership)

BARCELONA
Luis Suarez (F) .................. from Liverpool (full ownership)
Claudio Bravo (GK) .......... from Real Sociedad (full ownership)
Ivan Rakitic (MF) ............... from Sevilla (full ownership)

BAYERN MUNICH
Robert Lewandowski (F) .... from Borussia Dortmund (free transfer)

BORUSSIA DORTMUND
Ciro Immobile (F)  .............. from Torino (full ownership)

CHELSEA
Thibaut Courtois (GK)...... from Atletico Madrid (end of loan)
Diego Costa (F) ................ from Atletico Madrid (full ownership)
Thorgan Hazard (MF) ...... from Zulte-Waregem (end of loan) but reloaned to Borussia Monchengladbach
Romelu Lukaku (F) .......... from Everton (end of loan)
Cesc Fabregas (MF) ........ from Barcelona (full ownership)

INTER
Dodô (D) ............................ from Roma (full ownership)
Nemanja Vidic (D) ............ from Manchester United (free transfer)

JUVENTUS
Patrice Evra (D) ................. from Manchester United (full ownership)
Alvaro Morata (F) .............. from Real Madrid (full ownership)

LIVERPOOL
Emre Can (MF)  ................. from Bayer Leverkusen (full ownership)
Adam Lallana (MF)  ........... from Southampton (full ownership)

MANCHESTER CITY
Bacary Sagna (D) .............. from Arsenal (full ownership)

MANCHESTER UNITED
Ander Herrera (MF) ......... from Athletic Bilbao (full ownership)
Luke Shaw (D) .................. from Southampton (full ownership)

MILAN
Jeremy Menez (F) ............ from PSG (free transfer)

PSG
David Luiz (D) ................... from Chelsea (full ownership)

ROMA
Ashley Cole (D) ................. from Chelsea (free transfer)
Seydou Keita (MF) ............ from Valencia (free transfer)
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The Mineirazo: 8 July 2014

It will take a while to process entirely what happened last night, so I don't feel I can write an organized essay. Here are some scattered reflections instead.

• The press rightfully refer to this as the Mineirazo. Even the FIFA website calls it that. Whereas the social repercussions cannot compare to the long-standing shame and significance of the Maracanazo in 1950, from a footballing standpoint this is much worse. It is one thing to lose a tight final 1-2, but quite another to be routed 1-7.

• The "net value" of the match was a 3-goal German victory. After the initial Muller goal, Brazil reacted normally as most teams do when they're down 0-1 in an important match. They held possession, they were aggressive but not reckless, and they created chances. Klose's 0-2 goal dumbfounded them, and while they yet retained a semblance of order, they made the mistake of throwing themselves forward and leave the back almost uncovered. By the 20th minute the mid had fallen apart, leaving vast prairies for the Germans to penetrate with quick counters. (I'll spare you the obvious blitzkrieg jokes).

• When you're down, you must defend. That is an unwritten law of football because your first priority is to ensure that you don't concede more. There will be time to attack later. Teams that fail to abide by this rule usually go down by more than one goal quite quickly. Last night's Brazil was a vivid example.

• It takes a special kind of psychological breakdown to concede three consecutive goals. When Klose scored (0-2) the Brazilian players were visibly scared. When Kroos scored (0-3), they went into full panic mode. Kroos' second (0-4) started from a clever steal at midfield from a totally unaware Dante, and nobody covered; their legs must have felt like stone. Khedira's goal (0-5) was the result of disorderly ball management from the Brazil mid, who by that time was in complete disarray. The look on Fred's face after both the 3rd and 4th goals says it all: they were terrified and had no idea what was going on. I don't think it even registered until the halftime whistle. In a sense, Germany played alone for much of the first half.

• Germany also deserve immense praise. First of all, even when teams who are down a goal or two make the mistake of attacking instead of defending, you don't generally get to score more than one goal. Germany had exactly three chances after the 0-2 and capitalized on all three: (1) a simple and organized offensive with two-touch passes ending in Kroos' shot from the edge; (2) Khedira's lucid and altruistic pass to Kroos when he might have scored himself, but he knew Kroos was better positioned; and (3) a fast Muller-Klose-Kroos counter ending in Khedira's goal. Offense doesn't get more cynical than that. With surgical precision they did exactly what they had to, with absolutely nothing fancy or spectacular. Clearly that's easier to do when you're playing against a team of doorstops, but many teams still fail to run up the score when they can because of reverence, cold feet, or the desire to show off. Not the Germans. They remained cool and they executed.

• Germany genuinely tried to continue scoring for the entire game. Even though it was 0-5 at 29', they didn't stop there and created three more clear chances that they failed to convert purely accidentally; would have gone to halftime up 0-8 if they could have. And mind you, they made no big push and showed no animosity. They simply continued to play their game, tackling decisively but not violently, countering quickly but not desperately, defending sparsely but not taking any risks. They even contested a few referee calls, as they would continue to do well into the second half (the ref himself, the Moreno Rodriguez of Italy-Uruguay infamy, was probably relieved that his mistakes didn't really matter last night).

• Germany simply ignored the scoreline. That is the very thing that Brazil failed to do, and ultimately it cost them the game. Relatedly, I have already written in the past about the ethics of running up the score in lopsided games. TL;DR = it's the most respectful thing to do and it would be humiliating not to.

• Brazilian players displayed good sportsmanship. Despite their footballing shortcomings, they were not aggressive toward Germans as lesser teams could have been; perhaps they were too confused and humiliated to do anything at all. That is a good thing, for it would have added to their shame if they had been sore losers on top of it all. However, at the end of the game they should have done a better job of apologizing to the crowd instead of huddling together and hope for some reprieve to come from the stands. David Luiz partially made up for that in his heartfelt official interview, as did Scolari himself. Speaking of which...

• Scolari assumed full responsibility even though he had almost none. No matter how badly the team plays, ultimately the coach is responsible. It is less clear what this will spell for his future on the bench. "Felipão" led Brazil to a World Cup title in 2002 and a Confederations Cup in 2013; in-between, he took Portugal to the Euro final in 2004 and to a World Cup third place in 2006. More importantly, Scolari is to be praised for even taking Brazil this far. He managed to advance to yesterday's semifinal with a team devoid of any major talent outside of Neymar and that looks nothing at all like the holy Seleção of Ronaldo, Rivaldo, and Ronaldinho. (Remember when Brazil was a striker-making machine? Now they have Hulk and Fred -- heaven help them). So even though Scolari will rightfully take the blame in public, the blame is not his. He literally did the best he could with this team, and if football was fair, yesterday Brazil would have lost something like 0-3. The rest is on the players.

• Saturday's game will decide the near future of Brazilian football. I mean not only of these players and coaching staff, but perhaps of the next generation of Brazilian footballers. Never has a third-place match mattered so much. Italy (1990) and Germany (2006) also lost the semifinal and went on to finish third. When you're the host country and you've let everyone down, the least you can do is get right back up after the fall. But for Brazil that is more complicated. Whatever they do, the shame of this Mineirazo will never be washed. A win on Saturday is irrelevant: the only thing that matters is not to lose big again, or Brazilian football may be thrown into a Dark Age. Both the Netherlands and Argentina, and especially the latter, would be more than glad to be the co-catalysts of such an event. I can only imagine with what mindset the shell-shocked Brazilian players will approach the third-place final...

• That being said, sometimes football federations are reborn from their own ashes. By the end of the 1990s, Germany had been in a bad slump for a few years. They had managed to squeeze through a Euro 1996 title with the unlikely magic of Bierhoff and Sammer (LOL), but it was evident that the golden generation of Klinsmann, Matthaus, Breheme, Kohler, and Moller would not be succeeded by an equally talented Mannschaft. So they changed everything. For one, they forced the development of youth talent by passing laws that criminalized teams whose balances weren't in the black. If professional teams can't spend more money than they have, they must turn to the cheaper youth sector: Lahm, Podolski, Klose, Schweinsteiger, and more recently Muller and Kroos, were all picked from that tree. Second, they tapped into the yet-unexploited streak of ethnic diversity. For decades Germany has been a melting pot of Turks, Arabs, and Southern Europeans, yet these rarely played football for Germany at the highest level. Aggressive diversifying campaigns resulted in Ozil, Boateng, Khedira, Gomez, Cacau, and many more; plus, of course, Polish-born players like Podolski and Klose.

• The same general spirit should drive Brazilian football, even if the example above does not apply to them directly, for their racial and social makeup is inherently (if uneasily) multicultural. Quite simply, if something ceases to work, you must change it, and be radical about it. Brazilian football has been working the same exact way for 80 years. Spectacular and incredibly intense (but financially poor) home leagues plus a large number of exports. That has worked, but it is no longer working, because since 2002 -- that's twelve years ago, mind you -- Brazil has been a very underwhelming team, and as I already said they didn't even deserve to advance this far into this World Cup. Perhaps they should experiment with reversing that trend, as Germans and Spaniards and French also have when in trouble: play less abroad and reboot the system from the ground up at home.

I have watched the game twice more since last night, and this is all I have at this time. Unless something even more outrageous happens in the next three games, this World Cup will probably be remembered as: (a) the perfect embodiment of the Beautiful Game; and, most ironically, (b) the one when Brazil got spanked. Again.

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Brazil vs. Germany: the Paulista connection and the rivalry that never was

Brazil vs. Germany

2014 FIFA World Cup. First semifinal. 8 July 2014.

Estádio Mineirão, Belo Horizonte

17:00 local time (4:00 pm US/ET, 22:00 CET)

This is a story of German immigrants, Brazilian struggles, and a lot of blank pages still to write.

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The German Brazilians

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The most interesting histories of Germans and Brazilians are off the pitch, but still firmly along the sidelines. In the late 19th-early 20th century, Brazil saw a massive influx of European immigrants seeking opportunities. These were mostly Spaniards, Italians, and Portuguese, but a number of Dutch and German colonies also settled in the South-Eastern coast, especially in São Paulo, Santa Catharina, and along the Rio Grande. Deutschbrasilianer remain an important Paulista ethnicity to this day, though making up a small percentage of Brazilians as a whole, and the Riograndenser Hunsrückisch West German-East Brazilian hybrid dialect is still spoken in the area.

S.C. Germania in 1904, with founder Hans Nobiling (fourth from left).

Germans were also instrumental to the birth of Brazilian futebol. The country's first regional championship was founded in São Paulo by an Englishman, Charles Miller, and as is often the case with start-up leagues the participating clubs were divided along class and racial lines. São Paulo Athletic Club was made primarily of English cricket players; Mackenzie College of students; Germânia of German immigrants; Internacional of workers; and the famous Corinthians and Palestra Italia, now Palmeiras, would join soon thereafter. That first regional football league, the state championship of São Paulo (Campeonato Paulista), survives to this day.

(Due to large distances, slow economic development, and lack of reliable transportation, Brazil didn't get a national league until 1959 with the birth of the Campeonato Brasileiro Série A, also known as Brasileirão. Today regional championships like the Paulista, the Carioca, the Pernambucano, the Mineirao, and so on retain a sliver of their former glory and importance, but they do subsist, and are used primarily as "warm-up" championships from January to May, during the Brasileirão off-season).

Friedenreich at Paulistano; undated photo but probably 1916-17.

Some Germans played an even more crucial role on the pitch. Germânia's top player for the first decade of its Paulista adventure was Hermann Friese, one of the first footballers to achieve some fame in the modern sense. Friese also coached Germânia toward the end of the 1900s, which was not unusual at that time (some players were even referees). In his team played Arthur Friedenreich, the first great mixed-race footballer and Brazil's first international football star.

Nicknamed "El Tigre," the tiger, Friedenreich would go on to represent Brazil in a number of international competitions. With him Brazil won the Copa America in 1919 and 1922. Friedenreich was hailed the "king of football" during the Paulistano tour of Europe in 1925, in which he also scored a hat trick in a 7-1 routing of France. Some hail that (comparatively) ragtag Seleção as one of the greatest national teams of all time. Based on results alone, it is hard to deny that.

Copa America 1919.

Toward the end of his career, Friedenreich was robbed of a World Cup participation in 1930 because of a managerial dispute between the leaders of the Paulista and Carioca leagues that resulted in Carioca players (mostly coming from Fluminense, Botafogo, and Vasco da Gama) being the sole members of the "national" team. This was a common occurrence at a time when international football was virtually absent in poorly developed South America: the "Brazilian" team often comprised a handful of predominantly white players from one or two state leagues. There would be no significant structural unity at the federal level until the difficult professionalization of the sport in the early 1930s, spurred by the Vargas dictatorship. Friedenreich thus ended his career at São Paulo and at the neighboring Santos, where twenty years later another King would live out his days of glory: Edson Arantes do Nascimento, better known as o rei, Pelé.

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The World Cup

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As nations, Germany and Brazil have little history outside of Brazil's participation in World War I and World War II. The same is true of them as footballing nations: aside from a few friendlies and near-irrelevant games in the Confederations Cup, Brazil and Germany have only competed once: the 2002 World Cup final. Much can be said about that game (for example here, here, here, and here; you can watch the game in its entirety here), but perhaps it is more famous for being the decent final act of a tournament that is almost universally considered (1, 2, 3) a farce because of bad hosts and worse refereeing. Also, Rivaldo decided to take up diving, which was both entertaining and infuriating (video).

Ronaldo in the 2002 World Cup final in Yokohama, Japan.

No World Cup final is unimportant, by definition, but one game does not make a rivalry; and the racial and social history of German Brazilians is too old to motivate the masses in distant 2014. Quite simply, we need more games, and what better occasion than a World Cup semifinal... in Brazil.

The stakes are very high today. After 2002, the DFB has undergone massive socioeconomic restructuring, abandoning Beckenbauer's spectacular star-studded Fußball and preferring Klinsmann's more pragmatic approach. The results have been relatively wanting after back-to-back narrow semifinal defeats, in 2006 to Italy and 2010 to Spain (plus a Euro 2008 final loss, again to Spain). Third-place matches are great for Portugal and Uruguay, but it is not where Germans want to be: Die Mannschaft deserves the final, and they know it.

On the other side of the pitch stands an unprecedented Seleção. I have already discussed Brazil's stakes in this tournament, and now Neymar's injury and captain Thiago Silva's suspension have added to that. Tonight Brazil might play with all the reckless determination of a wounded and terrified animal engaged in a Malthusian struggle for its survival; or perhaps with the meekness of a beaten puppy who is afraid of being hurt more. It is hard to say how the psychology goes, especially since -- as my wise father continuously reminded me -- no performance can be explained by analyzing one team alone: 22 play football, not 11. So while the Brazilian reaction will rest in part on the shoulders of their other leaders like Julio Cesar and David Luiz, as well as on the decibel level of the torcida at the Estádio Mineirão in Belo Horizonte, it will also depend on Germany. If I were Löw, I would tell them to storm the Brazilian castle and take no prisoners... but I know that is not his style.

Brazil have won five World Cup titles: 1958, 1962, 1970 (the Pelé triple), 1994, and 2002. That is the most of all time. Germany have won three: 1954 (the Miracle of Bern), 1974, and 1990. Between them stand only Italy's four titles, and the rest of the world lies far behind. This rivalry could have been storied, but instead it is tinged with the mutual respect and proper distance of confident powerhouses.

Until tonight.
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Exorcising the Maracanazo: Brazil vs. Uruguay 1950-2014

If you love history, you'll root for Brazil and Uruguay today. Here's why.

On July 16th, 1950, Uruguay beat Brazil 2-1 in the World Cup final at the Maracanã in Rio de Janeiro. It wasn't even a real final, but only the last game of the "final round-robin" that would determine the winner. Brazil needed a win or draw to triumph. Instead, they lost. Urban legend says that some fans killed themselves; surely enough, some wanted to.

This was the first World Cup after World War II and Brazil's first at home. Heavily and uneasily multicultural, Brazilians had only been introduced to football by German and Italian immigrants some 40 years prior. Their oft-white national team was mixed-race in 1950, a crucial (if poorly received) step. Initially only a local affair, futbol had only recently been understood as a national and "Brazilian" phenomenon, spurred in no small part by its exploitation by then-president Getúlio Vargas. What begun as the Sunday entertainment of the white elites of Rio and São Paulo had quickly made its way out to the working-class neighborhoods and the poorer countryside, thanks to the typical (and generally effective in the short term) culture-making fixation of populist half-dictators like Vargas.

That day at the Maracanã everything was set for Brazilian victory. The stadium was built to host 150,000 (an unthinkable size at that time), but the official attendance was around 173,000 and maybe closer to 200,000. Work was called off almost everywhere. Rural towns gathered around the government-installed radio speakers in the center square to listen to the play-by-play, delivered by the famed composer-turned-sportscaster Ary Barros (the inventor of "goooooool!"). Vargas even spent the entirety of the first half rehearsing his victory speech -- or so it is said.

The game was a soundly deserved 2-1 loss to a legendary Uruguay who fielded Varela, Schiaffino, and Ghiggia, all three easily among the top 50 players of all time. The winning goal, scored by the latter, was blamed on Brazilian goalkeeper Moacir Barbosa. He wasn't perfect, on that one save or during the rest of the game, but no doubt he would have been blamed less if he were white. Instead, he bore the scorn of football fans for a half-century until his death in 2000.

While the memory of that game has faded, some (many? all? it is hard to say for sure) fans yet retain its cultural burdens. The disappointment of a World Cup final loss, the acknowledgment of a great team's vulnerability, the national shame of losing at home (comparable to the Argentine shame of *winning* at home in 1978, that too because of a ruthless dictator)...

...and maybe -- just maybe -- that slithering feeling, like an itch on your back that's just out of reach, that Brazil's greatness cannot be cemented without a home win; that their five World Cup wins since 1950 cannot wash completely the shame of the Maracanazo.

If Brazil and Uruguay win today, they play each other on July 4th. It won't be a final, but a quarterfinal. And it won't be the Estádio do Maracanã in Rio, but the Castelão in Fortaleza. Whatever happens here, the ghosts of the Maracanazo cannot truly be banished. Such is the character of sports history, after all, where so many attempts at undoing or avenging the past conjure new ghosts and new shames to wash, only with different victims.

But if Brazil and Uruguay win today, I for one wouldn't mind another shot, or even just a brief commemorative window on one of the most fascinating and controversial eras of global football.

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(Some material from this story borrowed from the work of David Goldblatt, Loch Phillipps, Wright Thompson, and Federico Buffa).