Pieces are in place for a great World Cup in Brazil – here’s hoping

A duff World Cup used to come along once every 30 years or so. Replays of Italia 90, minus Gazza’s bravura performance, would bring a glass eye to tears. The 1962 tournament was a Santiago snooze, despite the gargantuan efforts of Garrincha and the light-middleweight stylings of Chile and Italy. And the biggest problem with 1934 was not the looming presence of the dangerous buffoon Mussolini, which just goes to show how miserable and ill-tempered the football was. But these were very much once-in-a-generation disappointments.

Nowadays the letdowns come thick and fast – once every four years, to be exact. Much as fans wish it ain’t so, the World Cup has failed to live up to expectations for a long, long while. None of the three tournaments held since the turn of the millennium has thrown up anything that lives particularly long in the memories of anyone but the rabidly partisan.

From that era only the 2006 semi-final between Italy and Germany could get anywhere near the pantheon but even by mentioning it in those terms one is in thundering denial: Michael Ballack ballooning a free-kick over the bar does not compare with, say, Eusébio hauling back a three-goal deficit against North Korea, whichever way you slice it.

Keep your standards high and there has not been a stone-cold classic tournament since 1986, or even 1982 if you factor Diego Maradona out of the equation. The reasons for this are myriad, though the main pair of problems are the unwieldy size of the modern 32-team tournament and over-familiarity with world stars (the latter illustrated by the Josimar-Murdoch Law of Diminishing Returns, which states that the increased knowledge of international football provided by satellite technology is in inverse proportion to the chances of ever again experiencing the childlike thrill of a major talent announcing himself out of the blue at a World Cup finals).

Fifa’s president, Sepp Blatter, is no more likely to address those issues than he is to sit down and read the collected writings of Andrea Dworkin and yet, despite this gloomy scenario, there is still hope that Brazil 2014 can buck the trend, delivering the bona fide classic World Cup fans across the globe have been waiting for.

All the pieces are in place (just don’t mention the stadiums). Start with the world and European champions, Spain, who are already in uncharted waters after becoming the first country to win three major tournaments on the bounce. A fourth would be ludicrous and Spain would become the first team to retain the World Cup since – naturally – Brazil, back in the 1960s. The Spanish are not quite the free-flowing, fantasy side of a few years ago which had promised a root-and-branch re-evaluation of All Football but they have not lost a competitive fixture since 2010, winning two major titles in the meantime. That is some dip in quality.

Spain would become the first European winners of a World Cup held in South America, though Germany – who will be into their 18th year without a major title, equalling their longest drought since winning their first World Cup in 1954 – might have designs on that claim themselves. They are blessed with yet another golden generation of top young talent, their club sides dominant in Europe. Belgium, similarly blessed with youthful verve, have the potential to be the most exciting dark horses since the Denmark and Romania sides of 1986 and 1994 respectively.

The same anticipation is not likely to surround middle-management project England who – if they make it – will probably satisfy themselves with avoiding the sort of humiliation they suffered at Brazil’s last World Cup, in 1950, a 1-0 defeat by the United States so cataclysmic and unexpected that it was initially assumed the wires service had misprinted the scoreline of a 10-1 win.

But while England have their own demon from 1950 to deal with, it is nothing compared with the ghost stalking the hosts. Brazil had gone into the last game of that tournament’s final pool needing only a draw for their first world title. With newspaper headlines already proclaiming them champions, 205,000 delirious fans squeezed into the newly built Maracanã to witness the procession. Uruguay hit them with two second-half goals to make off with the loot and spoil the party. Some argue that Brazil, despite its subsequent five World Cups, never quite got over that blow to the national self-esteem.

Luiz Felipe Scolari’s side, as witnessed in that 2-2 draw with England the other week, are good enough to gain redemption for the masses, finally consigning the elusive apparition of the wispy winger Alcides Ghiggia, scorer of Uruguay’s decisive goal that fateful day, to history. They are also bad enough – the England game again – to capitulate under intense pressure, yielding another poor sap fated to follow in the footsteps of Moacir Barbosa, the Brazilian keeper who let Ghiggia’s shot slip in at the near post, and was subsequently condemned to life as a pariah.

With their neighbours and bitter rivals Argentina fielding the world’s best player in Lionel Messi and Uruguay, should they reach the finals, certain to send a samba-syncopated shiver down the host country’s spine by mere presence alone – Luis Suárez, up with the keeper, the last minute of the final, you finish the story – there is plenty of scope for psychodrama as Brazil attempt to exorcise those 1950 ghosts. The ruthless binary outcomes – an end to 64 years of hurt or the minimum of another half-century in purgatory – means that whatever fate awaits its national team, Brazil’s World Cup is odds-on to deliver another story for the ages. It is about time one did.