A House Divided: Brazil’s Coaching Crisis and the Quiet Fall of Dorival Júnior

Long before Brazil kicked a ball in the March international window, a quiet revolution had already begun behind the scenes. Conversations had taken place, discreet yet decisive, and the writing was already on the wall for head coach Dorival Júnior. The Brazilian Football Confederation (CBF), under the leadership of Ednaldo Rodrigues, had communicated its enduring desire to bring Carlo Ancelotti into the fold—a courtship that had lingered across continents and calendars. In the same breath, the name Jorge Jesus began to reappear in internal discussions, not as an ideal dream but as a more tangible, present possibility.

These early movements were not simply reactions to performance; they were part of a broader recalibration at the top of Brazilian football. The upcoming presidential election of the CBF, scheduled on the eve of Brazil's showdown against Argentina, created a perfect moment for power consolidation. Rodrigues, a seasoned operator, recognized the opportunity to reassert control. As tensions simmered within the federation, he removed himself from the daily operations of a FIFA international break long marked as a judgment week for Dorival and his staff.

Silence in Brasília: The Sound of Discontent

The Seleção’s base in Brasília during the March fixtures became a crucible of pressure and unspoken uncertainty. The absence of the CBF president during critical preparation phases was interpreted not as neglect, but as a deliberate distancing. In football, absence often speaks louder than words. It was a clear signal that only truly exceptional performances could reverse a decision already in motion.

Internally, Dorival and his coaching staff had set a realistic target: four points from two games. It was a modest ambition meant to ease the tension—particularly if a draw could be earned in the fierce atmosphere of Buenos Aires. But the scars of a disappointing performance against Colombia had not yet healed. Brazil’s fragile momentum made every game feel like a referendum.

Rodrigues finally arrived in Brasília on the day of the 4-1 win over Colombia, and he stayed through the next day's defeat to Argentina. In public, Dorival maintained dignity. He praised the support structures in place and insisted the president had provided the tools necessary to succeed. But in the locker room, the energy had already shifted. It was not the scene of a triumphant revival—it was the quiet recognition of a relationship running its course. No embraces, no rallying words, no promise of tomorrow.

The Art of Surgical Dismissal

Perhaps the most intriguing part of this story is not that Dorival was dismissed—but how. Rodrigues’s strategy wasn’t a sweeping purge but a precise operation. The president separated the coaching staff from the rest of the national team department, an unorthodox move that sent ripples through the corridors of power.

Director Rodrigo Caetano, expected by many to be a central figure in any such decisions, was not consulted. He had no part in the initial overtures to Ancelotti nor in the more recent dialogues surrounding Jorge Jesus. This exclusion speaks volumes about the nature of power within the CBF—centralized, opaque, and firmly held by Rodrigues.

Still, there were hints that the president’s intentions weren’t wholesale dismissal. Just before the meeting that would officially end Dorival’s tenure, team manager Cícero Souza was confirmed to be travelling to Colombia. There, he was to assist Branco in overseeing the U-17 national team’s campaign in the South American Championship, which had opened with a 1-1 draw against Uruguay. Why send someone abroad on federation duty if he was to be relieved the next day? It was a subtle sign of selective pruning rather than a full reset.

In the end, only those tied directly to Dorival were asked to step aside. Assistants Lucas Silvestre and Pedro Sotero, physical trainer Celso Rezende, and team supervisor Sérgio Dimas—all closely linked to the coach’s career—were let go. Curiously, technical coordinator Juan, a recommendation by Dorival, remained. It was a rare thread of continuity in an otherwise disjointed transition.

The Road Ahead: June and the Shadow of Jesus

Dorival’s departure creates not just a vacancy but a vacuum—one the CBF must fill quickly. With the next FIFA window in June looming, Brazil must appoint a new head coach soon to keep its 2026 World Cup campaign on track and reorient a program in disarray.

Jorge Jesus, currently at Saudi club Al Hilal, remains the likeliest candidate. His willingness to forgo participation in the Club World Cup signals both his availability and interest. However, he has expressed a desire to guide Al Hilal through the final stages of the Asian Champions League, a campaign that concludes in early May. Should Brazil want him—and all signs point to that being the case—the timing could align.

What remains clear is that this new chapter in Brazilian football will not be written solely on the field. It is being forged in the boardrooms, in whispered conversations, in emails and unofficial overtures. The pursuit of a sixth World Cup title, Brazil’s holy grail, is now as much about institutional vision and executive manoeuvring as it is about talent and tactics.

Conclusion: The Mirror of a Nation

Brazil’s national team has always been more than a collection of players. It is a mirror of the nation’s aspirations, anxieties, and contradictions. The fall of Dorival Júnior—quiet, calculated, and cold—reflects a federation striving for control and clarity amid a chaotic global football landscape.

As the Seleção looks to rebuild, what emerges is a portrait of transition: not just of coaching philosophies, but of leadership, power dynamics, and identity. Whether the next man in charge is Ancelotti, Jorge Jesus, or another name yet to be whispered in Rio’s corridors, the challenge remains the same: to heal the fractures, inspire a generation, and once again make Brazil the beating heart of world football.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Paraguay’s Caution and Brazil’s Awakening

With a two-goal cushion, Paraguay opted to retreat, prioritizing defence over ambition. It was a decision that would prove costly. By ceding control, they inadvertently invited Brazil to claw their way back into the game. For the first time, Dunga’s side showed glimpses of life. 

Dunga’s substitutions injected much-needed energy into the team. Lucas Lima brought a semblance of order to the midfield, while Hulk’s physicality and directness offered a new dimension in attack. Brazil shifted gears, abandoning their pragmatic approach in favour of relentless forward momentum. 

The final 40 minutes were a spectacle of unyielding aggression, a stark contrast to the timid football that had characterized much of the match. Dani Alves, often maligned for his defensive lapses, turned saviour with a last-gasp equalizer. His surging run into the box and clinical finish symbolized Brazil’s enduring potential when allowed to embrace their attacking instincts. 

The Defensive Conundrum 

Despite the late heroics, the deficiencies in Brazil’s central defence remain glaring. Miranda’s inclusion continues to baffle observers, his performances raising serious doubts about his suitability as both a defender and captain. Against stronger opposition, the vulnerabilities exposed by Paraguay could prove catastrophic. 

The absence of Thiago Silva and Marquinhos is inexplicable. Both players possess the skill, composure, and leadership that Brazil so desperately need. Their exclusion, a reflection of Dunga’s obstinacy, undermines the team’s defensive solidity and limits its ability to build from the back. 

The Need for Change 

Dunga’s tenure has become a lightning rod for criticism, with his conservative tactics and questionable selections eroding Brazil’s identity. Players like Philippe Coutinho, Casemiro, Lucas Moura, and Alex Sandro—brimming with talent and creativity—languish on the sidelines, their potential stifled by a system that prioritizes pragmatism overexpression. 

Brazil’s history is rich with attacking brilliance, a brand of football that has earned them global admiration. To shackle this legacy is to betray the very essence of the Selecao. The final stages of the match against Paraguay offered a tantalizing glimpse of what Brazil could be—a team unafraid to attack, to create, and to dominate. 

The solution lies not just in personnel but in philosophy. A coach willing to unleash Brazil’s natural flair, to empower its players rather than constrain them, is desperately needed. Dunga’s approach, rooted in caution and rigidity, is ill-suited to this task. 

A Time for Renewal 

As Brazil inches perilously close to mediocrity, the call for change grows louder. The Selecao’s redemption will require more than individual heroics or fleeting moments of brilliance. It demands a return to the principles that made them a footballing superpower. 

For now, the fans’ thirst for a better show remains unquenched. But with the right leadership, Brazil can rise again, restoring their reputation as the world’s most beloved footballing nation. Dunga, however, is not the man to lead this renaissance. His tenure must give way to a new era—one defined by the joy, artistry, and audacity that are Brazil’s true hallmarks.  

Thank You

Faisal Caesar    

Brazil’s World Cup Qualifier Setback: A Tale of Tactical Missteps and Defensive Woes

The Maracanã has borne witness to some of football's most intense rivalries, none more poignant than the historic clashes between Brazil and Uruguay. From the heart-wrenching *Maracanazo* of 1950 to the nail-biting Copa América final of 1989 and the do-or-die qualification showdown in 1993, these encounters have always carried a dramatic weight. While Brazil exorcised past demons in the latter games, they were never straightforward victories. Uruguay, that tenacious and proud footballing nation, has always had the uncanny ability to unsettle both Brazil and Argentina—football's aristocrats.

Last night, in yet another World Cup qualifying clash, Uruguay once again spoiled Brazil's party. But unlike previous duels marked by Uruguayan brilliance, this defeat was more self-inflicted—a result of Brazil’s tactical disarray and individual lapses rather than the opposition's dominance.

Brazil’s Brisk Beginning

Brazil’s opening was electrifying, reminiscent of the vintage *Seleção*. Dani Alves delivered a sublime long ball to Willian, who breezed past his marker and delivered a precise cross for Diego Costa. With a deft touch, Costa slotted the ball into the net, and Brazil led 1-0. Moments later, Costa nearly doubled the tally, only for his shot to be deflected for a corner. Brazil’s fluidity continued as Neymar showcased his ingenuity, setting up Renato Augusto with a delightful pass. Augusto’s dummy on Muslera and thunderous finish into the roof of the net painted a picture of Brazilian supremacy—Brazil 2, Uruguay 0. The *Seleção* seemed invincible.

Uruguay’s Resilience

However, Uruguay’s trademark resilience surfaced soon enough. After absorbing the early pressure, Alvaro Pereira outmanoeuvred Willian on the left flank and delivered a cross to Carlos Sánchez, whose smart header found Edinson Cavani. The striker hammered a ferocious shot past the Brazilian goalkeeper, cutting the deficit to 2-1. La Celeste clawed their way back with grit and determination. Early in the second half, Luis Suárez, ever the talisman, capitalized on a defensive lapse to equalize. Brazil was now on the back foot, their early brilliance undone by their fragile defence.

The Brazilian Defense: A Comedy of Errors

Brazil’s defensive frailties were glaring. Neither Filipe Luís nor David Luiz rose to the occasion, their lack of coordination allowing Uruguay to dictate terms. Cavani’s goal was emblematic of this chaos—while the Uruguayan forward prepared to unleash his shot, Luiz stood passively, a hapless bystander. His ineptitude reached another low when Suárez effortlessly beat him to score Uruguay’s second. Such amateurish defending is unacceptable, and David Luiz’s inclusion in the squad now seems an affront to meritocracy.

Miranda, too, was a shadow of his former self. Once a pillar of Brazil’s defence, he now appears over the hill, unable to keep pace with world-class strikers. His misplaced passes and sluggishness only compounded Brazil's woes. The glaring absence of Thiago Silva raises serious questions. Silva, a world-class defender with unparalleled leadership qualities, is inexplicably sidelined, allegedly due to personal discord with coach Dunga. This exclusion smacks of ego-driven decision-making, to the detriment of the team. Brazil needs its best players, not relics of past glories.

Tactical Mismanagement: A Case Against Dunga

Dunga’s tactical choices further undermined Brazil’s performance. The decision to deploy Philippe Coutinho—a natural number 10—as a deep-lying midfielder was baffling. Coutinho’s creative genius thrives in advanced positions, yet Dunga’s experiment diminished his impact. Similarly, Willian, after a lively first half, faded as the game progressed, and Coutinho should have been brought on to replace him.

Moreover, Dunga’s reluctance to utilize talents like Lucas Moura and Paulo Henrique Ganso reflects a perplexing bias. These players, capable of injecting creativity and dynamism, were left unused. In midfield, the reliance on a declining Luiz Gustavo over Casemiro—a revelation at Real Madrid—exemplifies Brazil’s systemic inertia. Casemiro’s energy and tactical intelligence could have provided the solidity Brazil so desperately needed.

The Number 9 Conundrum

Brazil’s ongoing experiment with a false nine is a misguided attempt to replicate past successes. While this approach thrived in 1970, it worked only because of the unparalleled brilliance of Pelé. Neymar, despite his prodigious talent, is not yet in the league of Pelé, Romário, or Ronaldo. Tasking him with such a role is both unrealistic and counterproductive. Neymar flourishes on the left flank, and Brazil’s insistence on deploying him centrally limits his effectiveness.

The dearth of quality strikers is a glaring issue. Veterans like Ricardo Oliveira and Diego Tardelli lack the pace and versatility required at the highest level. The inclusion of promising talents like Gabriel Barbosa, Gabriel Jesus, and Jonas is overdue. Brazil’s future lies with these young guns, not in recycling mediocrity.

A Call for Change

Brazil’s next test against Paraguay is fraught with danger. On home soil, Paraguay is a formidable opponent, and Brazil cannot afford another slip-up. Dunga’s pragmatic, overly cautious tactics are antithetical to Brazil’s footballing ethos. The *Seleção* thrives on creativity, flair, and audacity—qualities that are stifled under his stewardship. It is time for the Brazilian Football Confederation (CBF) to reevaluate its faith in Dunga. Coaches like Tite or Rogério Micale, who embody Brazil’s attacking philosophy, could rejuvenate this struggling team.

Brazil’s footballing heritage demands better. The CBF must act decisively to restore the *Seleção* to its rightful place as the standard-bearer of the beautiful game. The message is clear: pragmatism is not the Brazilian way. It is time for Brazil to dream again.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar