“I was afraid of playing football because I had often seen a black player get struck on the pitch for committing a foul,” said Domingos da Guia, a defender who played for Brazil in the 1938 World Cup. “But I was a very good dancer and that helped me on the pitch. I invented the short dribble by imitating the miudinho, a form of samba.”
Roy Keane did not like it but when Brazil’s players – and the coach, Tite – celebrated scoring against South Korea in their last-16 victory on Monday by performing Richarlison’s trademark pigeon dance, they were following a historic tradition that represents the very soul of the Seleção. Samba, which has its roots in Angola and the Democratic Republic of Congo via the African slave trade, and football were adopted by Brazil’s working classes just as Da Guia was making his international debut in 1931.
According to Brazilian sociologist Gilberto Freyre, the distinctive style of play Brazil has become known for comes from the indelible link between the two. “In football, as in politics, a feature of the Brazilian racial blend is a taste for bending the rules, an element of surprise or frills that calls to mind dance steps and the Capoeira,” he wrote in the 1940s.
This is a World Cup like no other. For the last 12 years the Guardian has been reporting on the issues surrounding Qatar 2022, from corruption and human rights abuses to the treatment of migrant workers and discriminatory laws. The best of our journalism is gathered on our dedicated Qatar: Beyond the Football home page for those who want to go deeper into the issues beyond the pitch.
Guardian reporting goes far beyond what happens on the pitch. Support our investigative journalism today.
When a 17-year-old Pelé and the winger Garrincha inspired them to their first World Cup victory in 1958, the song A Taça do Mundo é Nossa – The World Cup is Ours – left no doubt about the vital importance of music to the team’s success: “The Brazilian has shown off true football abroad; he has won the World Cup dancing the samba with the ball at his feet.”
Those lyrics were slightly rejigged after the repeat victory four years later to include the line “the Brazilian this time in Chile. Showed football the way it is.”
According to legend, the celebrated samba singer Elza Soares fainted in the stands at the end of Brazil’s 3-1 win over Czechoslovakia in the final but recovered in time to perform a song in honour of her future husband Garrincha in the changing room.
Pelé was among those to pay tribute to Soares in January after her death at the age of 91, describing her as a “legend of our music, historic, genuine, unique and unparalleled”.
Two decades after their triumph in Chile – with Brazil having won a third World Cup in 1970 – Júnior celebrated scoring the third goal against Argentina in Spain 1982 with some impromptu samba steps but they were surprisingly beaten by eventual winners Italy.
However, the tradition of celebrating goals with dance routines is generally a more recent phenomenon that has not been restricted to Brazilians. Roger Milla’s corner flag wiggle at Italia 90 and again at USA 1994 were inspired “by his own imagination” according to the Cameroon striker, while Papa Bouba Diop celebrated his goal against France, the holders, in 2002 by removing his shirt and performing a mbalax dance with his Senegal teammates. But after Bebeto and Romario’s cradle‑rocking routine in 1994 that was a tribute to the former’s newborn Mattheus Oliveira – now 28 and playing in the Portuguese second division – it is Brazil that has always had the strongest tradition to uphold.
“Dance is the symbol. We symbolise the joy of scoring a goal. We don’t do it to disrespect, we don’t do it in front of the opponent,” said West Ham’s Lucas Paquetá after the South Korea match. “We get together, you can look. Everyone is there and we celebrate. It’s our moment, we scored the goal, Brazil is celebrating.”
For Vinícius Júnior, who scored the first goal against South Korea, the criticism will have had particular resonance. In September, the Real Madrid forward was accused of not respecting his opponents and told to “stop playing the monkey” by Pedro Bravo – a leading agent and president of the Association of Spanish Agents – on live television after celebrating his goals by dancing.
Vinícius was then targeted with monkey chants by Atlético Madrid supporters in Real’s 2-1 victory, having said in a post on Instagram he would keep dancing despite being warned there would be “trouble” by the Atlético captain, Koke, if he did.
“They say happiness upsets. The happiness of a black Brazilian successful in Europe upsets much more,” Vinícius wrote. “Weeks ago they began to criminalise my dances. Dances that are not mine. They belong to Ronaldinho, Neymar, Paquetá, [Antoine] Griezmann, João Félix and Matheus Cunha … they belong to Brazilian funk and samba artists, reggaeton singers, and black Americans. Those are dances to celebrate the cultural diversity of the world. Accept it, respect it. I’m not going to stop.”
