The Maracanã in Rio de Janeiro is perhaps Brazil's most sacred ground, the stage on which jogo bonito found its feet, and a place where players became legends. However, for all the success stories that unfolded on the grass there, the stadium's history would forever be defined by a match on July 16, 1950 – a tie that would decide the fate of the 1950 World Cup, and forever intertwine the famous venue with a heartbreak that scarred an entire nation.
Marking its 75th anniversary today, this tragic day, known as Maracanazo, is etched into Brazil's consciousness.
Even now, every year, the country pauses on this day to remember how hope met heartbreak.
Brazilian celebrations in full swing
The 1950 World Cup did not feature the format we know today. Instead of a bracket leading to a final match-up, the trophy was decided by four teams competing in the final stage in a round-robin format.
At the time, Brazil were hungry for their first taste of the coveted trophy and the team's recent form convinced the entire country that victory was assured.
They had conquered the previous year's Copa America with a +39 goal difference. At the World Cup, they pummelled Sweden 7-1 and Spain 6-1, while the Uruguayans had eked out a 3-2 win and a 2-2 draw against the same opponents.
All they needed now was a draw against Uruguay to clinch the trophy, although most expected nothing short of total domination.
Radios buzzed with celebratory messages, local officials declared the Seleção world champions in speeches, newspapers ran premature headlines crowning Brazil, even the stadium decorations and city banners assumed triumph.
Luis Mendes, the radio commentator, admitted they hadn't even brought sheets of the Uruguayan anthem, such was Brazil's assuredness.
On the morning of July 16, the streets of Rio pulsed with energy. Fans, dressed in vibrant yellow and green, flooded into Maracanã.
Some reports say that more than 200,000 people were in attendance. Although the official record is slightly lower, it remains the biggest crowd for a World Cup final to date.
That day, it was not just an arena, it was the heart of the nation.
A nightmare unfurls
When Brazil striker Friaça netted two minutes into the second half, a deafening roar swept across the stands. Every Brazilian present believed their destiny was at hand.
However, their celebrations turned into confusion as Uruguay captain Obdulio Varela grabbed the ball and began to argue with officials. He admitted later that it was just a ploy, one that lasted eight minutes and succeeded in reducing the decibel level.
Uruguay then set about taking fate into their own hands. Juan Schiaffino equalized in the 66th minute, sending shockwaves through the seas of yellow.
And just 11 minutes before the final whistle, Alcides Ghiggia would emerge as the hero of the match, with the first truly iconic World Cup final goal.
Anticipating a cross, Moacir Barbosa, the Brazilian who was regarded as the best goalkeeper in the world at the time, stepped off his line. But Ghiggia cut inside and squeezed a finish into the near post, all but winning the cup for La Celeste.
A hush swept through Maracanã. A once-celebratory stadium froze in collective disbelief. What was meant to be a national triumph had quickly transformed into a gut-wrenching defeat.
Outside and inside, Brazil stood still.
Pelé, then nine years old, later said it was the first time he had seen his father cry during a match.
News headlines plunged from pomp to shame:
"Um grande desastre (A great disaster)"
"Após tantas esperanças, a suprema desilusão (After so much hope, the ultimate disappointment)"
Radios fell silent. Families, like Pelé's, sat frozen in grief. A cruel mix of shock, silence, and sorrow blanketed the nation.
In the stadium, unbridled hope turned to uninhibited despair. Some fans suffered heart attacks. Rumors claimed a few tragically took their own lives.
That day, football became more than a game, it became a source of national trauma for Brazilians.
The contrast: Ghiggia & Barbosa
Ghiggia immediately became a Uruguayan hero. For his 80th birthday, a special postage stamp was commissioned with his picture and the message: 'Ghiggia nos hizo llorar' – Ghiggia moved us to tears.
More surprisingly, he was similarly remembered and revered even in the country that he left in tears.
In 2009, Ghiggia flew into Brazil and his footprints were carefully preserved at the Maracanã, alongside the likes of Pelé, Eusébio, and Franz Beckenbauer.
However, the tale of Barbosa, the Brazilian goalkeeper, was completely different.
Outcast as "the man who lost Brazil the World Cup", he played for his country only once more. Decades later, he was barred from visiting the Brazilian team at the 1994 World Cup as it was feared he would jinx them.
He had to spend the rest of his life as an outcast. But since he was a legend of Vasco da Gama, he received a monthly allowance from the Brazilian club, which helped him meet some expenses.
Barbosa once famously remarked: "The maximum punishment in Brazil is 30 years imprisonment, but I have been paying, for something I am not even responsible for, for 50 years."
The day after Barbosa passed away, a Brazilian media outlet ran the headline: "Barbosa's second death."
The everlasting pain of July 16
Although Obdulio Varela gave his all to win the match for Uruguay, even he found it hard to contend with the emotions of Rio that same evening while wandering the streets, especially as his name repeatedly kept coming up.
"We went to a corner to drink and from there we looked at the people. Everyone was crying. It was unbelievable: everyone had tears in their eyes. Suddenly, I saw a big guy come in who seemed disconsolate. He was crying like a kid and saying, "Obdulio cost us the game," and he cried more," Varela said, as quoted by Osvaldo Soriano, a giant in South American football journalism, in the newspaper "La Opinión", on July 16, 1972.
"I looked at him and felt sorry for him. They had planned the biggest carnival in the world and we had ruined it for them. According to that guy, I had ruined it for them. We had ruined everything and hadn't won anything. We had a title, but what did that mean in the face of so much sadness? I thought of Uruguay. There, the people would be happy. But I was there, in Rio de Janeiro, among so many unhappy people."
To this day, July 16 is a date no Brazilian forgets. Schools, fans, and sports journalists speak of it with reverence and regret. It marked the last time that Brazil's football team stepped onto the field in whites as their home kit.
In homes where grandparents recall the tales as tears swell, and in clubs that hold memorial gatherings at Maracanã, the memory endures.
Although Brazil would go on to dominate the next decades, with triumph in Mexico in 1970 marking their third World Cup in four tournaments, Maracanazo would live on.
Pelé never forgot that painful moment when he saw his father shed tears, and generations since have carried that pain forward.
The 'Maracanazo' remains a unique impenetrable wound in Brazil's history. It's not just a game lost, it's a moment of tragedy etched into the fabric of Brazil's cultural soul.
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