Ex-pat Scot and HeraldScotland blogger GARY JOHNSTON reports from the fanzone in Belo Horizonte
Imagine a nation in despair. A land where the inhabitants' hopes desires and intrinsic aspirations lay in wasted tatters.
Germany at the conclusion of World War II. The USA in the aftermath of the Wall Street Crash. Scotland the morning after the horrific Commonwealth Games outfits were revealed (yep, it even made the news here).
Multiply all of the above by about a million and you're still nowhere near how Brazil feels this morning. This is a country in deep and pervasive mourning.
Football here is a religion. I don't mean they love the game, in Brazil, it actually is a religion. There are churches - actual churches - which worship Pele, Garrincha and other geniuses of times past.
To say they take the game seriously here just doesn't cut it. The great Bill Shankly comment - that football isn't a matter of life and death, but much more important than that - isn't a pithy example of hyperbole in Brazil. It's a fact.
In the days leading up to the game last night there was a definite undercurrent of nerves. Without the boy wonder Neymar, Brazilians were rightly anxious, but as the anthem played and we watched in a FIFA designated fanzone in Belo Horizonte, the locals once again started to believe.
The anthem - how good is it? Especially the freestyling second verse which it seemed everybody in the entire country was belting out with unrestrained gusto, hand on heart, tears and snotters blinding them. Even us, a disparate collection of fans from other countries who'd long been sent home, joined in. A magic moment none of us will ever forget.
Until the game was 20 minutes old. And Brazil fell apart. Shocked and stunned. Whole-scale incomprehension. Was this really happening?
It was. As the German goals rained in, like they do in a wee boy's game on a Saturday morning, the mood changed. No anger, not yet. Sorrow. Grief.
Grown men, women, and most heart-rendingly of all, children, were openly weeping, their dreams shattered and battered, their hopes scattered all around.
Interestingly, no one thought to lay any blame at the Germans' door. There were more than a few German fans around and they were naturally exultant but unlike what may have occurred in say, Scotland, every Brazilian fan paid them the respect and credit they deserved. Quite honestly, the Germans couldn't believe it either.
But in the second half, as the horrible realisation began to sink in, the mood of the home fans changed from distress to culpability.
Every disaster needs a scapegoat and, in pencil moustachioed alleged striker Fred, the Brazilians had the perfect culprit. Poor old Fred couldn't do a thing right and didn't the fans let him know.
Peter Sellers once called a stately mansion he bought himself 'St Fred's' on the basis that no one could ever take anything called Fred seriously. And, it has to be said, whoever named Brazil's Fred, a footballer as incisive as a Christmas pudding, wasn't exactly doing him any favours.
However, as duff as Fred was - is - you can hardly blame him for the train wreck that was Brazil's defence, as the Germans ran riot, threatening to score at every opportunity. Scoring at every opportunity.
Fred's every mis-touch was roundly booed and eventually he was substituted to save him from further punishment, as they say in boxing matches.
A TV close-up caught the poor bloke sitting in the dug-out, a perfect picture of abject misery and desolation. He looked like a fellow I used to see in the Ladbrokes at Partick Cross, whose characteristic bad luck was summed up by his backing a horse at Cheltenham races called Lady of the Lake - who subsequently came a cropper at the water jump. A Loser with a capital 'L'.
When the game mercifully ended, the scene was reminiscent of a double shift at the Wailing Wall. Utter, utter misery and anguish. It wasn't pretty.
No riots. No whole-scale looting and rebellion. Not yet at any rate. The Brazilians are not angry, they're sad, depressed.
But anger, as any homespun psychiatrist will tell you, is a secondary emotion, a response stimulated, stirred up by an initial sentiment - a reaction borne out of frustration.
The whole world, especially vulnerable tourists like us, will have to hope such passionate disaffection and insurgence doesn't eventuate. But you wouldn't want to put money on it.
Why are you making commenting on The Herald only available to subscribers?
It should have been a safe space for informed debate, somewhere for readers to discuss issues around the biggest stories of the day, but all too often the below the line comments on most websites have become bogged down by off-topic discussions and abuse.
heraldscotland.com is tackling this problem by allowing only subscribers to comment.
We are doing this to improve the experience for our loyal readers and we believe it will reduce the ability of trolls and troublemakers, who occasionally find their way onto our site, to abuse our journalists and readers. We also hope it will help the comments section fulfil its promise as a part of Scotland's conversation with itself.
We are lucky at The Herald. We are read by an informed, educated readership who can add their knowledge and insights to our stories.
That is invaluable.
We are making the subscriber-only change to support our valued readers, who tell us they don't want the site cluttered up with irrelevant comments, untruths and abuse.
In the past, the journalist’s job was to collect and distribute information to the audience. Technology means that readers can shape a discussion. We look forward to hearing from you on heraldscotland.com
Comments & Moderation
Readers’ comments: You are personally liable for the content of any comments you upload to this website, so please act responsibly. We do not pre-moderate or monitor readers’ comments appearing on our websites, but we do post-moderate in response to complaints we receive or otherwise when a potential problem comes to our attention. You can make a complaint by using the ‘report this post’ link . We may then apply our discretion under the user terms to amend or delete comments.
Post moderation is undertaken full-time 9am-6pm on weekdays, and on a part-time basis outwith those hours.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article