Wednesday, Oct 22, 2014

A pilgrim’s experience at the footballing paradise

Fans making their way to the Maracana for the Belgium vs Russia game. ( Source: Express photo by: Aditya Iyer ) Fans making their way to the Maracana for the Belgium vs Russia game. ( Source: Express photo by Aditya Iyer )
Written by Aditya Iyer | Rio De Janerio | Posted: June 24, 2014 2:27 am | Updated: June 24, 2014 11:10 am

Paradise. It’s about 10 metres long and five metres wide, about the size of your living room, and resides bang in the middle of the most populated area of the most populated city in South America.

Just outside the jurisdiction of Copacabana is a dimpled hillock. As you rest your foot on the mound’s cleft, Rio surrounds you in all its grandeur.

If you face north and look up, you’ll be blessed by a granite Christ, all 30 metres of him towering over a 700 metre high mountain and the Corcovado forest. Now turn your head right and take in the majestic baldness of Sugar Loaf Mountain. Then tilt it left and ogle shamelessly at lotioned, sunbathing bodies, glistening like wet seals on the shoreline. And when it all gets a bit too overwhelming, turn around and let the ocean waves wash it all away.

“We Cariocas call it paraiso, only informally. Officially, this place has no name,” says a toothless man named Alvio, on his daily visit to ‘paradise’. “We would have named it Paraiso, with a capital P, but there would have been protests.” Why? “Because we can see God and beauty from here, but we can’t see the Maracana — Brazil’s most perfect architectural structure. And without Maracana, how can there be paradise?”

Paradise, then, lies about 20 kilometres away and in the heart of a concrete jungle called central Rio. Apart from denture-void Alvio and I, this paradise expected a few other visitors on Domingo — about a third of a million in-and-around the shrine-like estadio. On Sunday, the single most popular football ground in the world (the English will tell you that’s Wembley, not Maracana) hosted what should’ve been a relatively low-profile fixture between Belgium and Russia. About 74,000, mostly Brazilian, ticket-holders and thrice as many non ticket-holders showed up.

“We will flock this place to even watch something as ridiculous as that game they play in India,” one fan in the queue said to me. I knew he meant cricket because he described it by taking a stance like WG Grace and playing a stroke that was the unfortunate offspring of a Dilscoop and Dandiya, the Gujarati dance-form. “Basically, we will come here to watch the grass grow. Or simply to stare at the walls outside. You get my point?”

I got his point. Construction of those walls began two years before Brazil hosted the 1950 World Cup. “More than 10,000 labourers worked on the project like Egyptians building a modern-day pyramid,” writes Alex Bellos, author of Futebol: The Brazilian Way of Life. Once complete, it could fit 184,000 spectators. It was near capacity — 173,850 to be precise — for the historic final, when Brazil lost 2-1 continued…

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