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On a breezy afternoon by the Gulf of Finland, Brazil eventually found the pulse of their World Cup campaign, delivering a labored but ultimately triumphant 2-0 win over Costa Rica at the opulent St Petersburg Stadium—a performance more exorcism than exhibition.
The goals came late, deep into injury time, a pair of cathartic releases after an hour and a half of frustration. Philippe Coutinho, the most coherent figure in a Brazil side wracked with anxiety and artifice, broke the deadlock with a thrust of determination—slicing through a congested box to meet a touch from Gabriel Jesus and thread the ball through the legs of Keylor Navas. It was a goal that shimmered with both grit and grace, a rare moment of clarity in a match clouded by nervous energy.
Minutes later, Neymar doubled the lead, stabbing home from Douglas Costa’s cross and falling to his knees in a theatrical celebration, the weight of performance—both footballing and psychological—spilling over in tears. It was a telling image: the world’s most expensive footballer reduced, in that moment, not to a symbol of excellence but of exhaustion.
Yet, if this result steadied Brazil’s progress in Group E—four points now secured, with a draw against Serbia sufficient to advance—it did little to assuage deeper concerns. For much of the match, Brazil looked a team out of sync, oscillating between brooding control and emotional chaos. This was no masterclass; it was a slow, uneven burning of expectation, flickering dangerously until the final moments.
The defining thread of the afternoon, inevitably, wove around Neymar. His presence, once a promise of inspiration, now often tilts toward a tragicomic performance. He grimaced and grimaced again, collapsed under featherlight touches, argued, pleaded, and—at times—seemed more caught in a melodrama of his own invention than in the reality of the match. The nadir came just past the hour mark, as Giancarlo González’s brush of the hand sent Neymar spiraling to the turf in an exaggerated fall that might have suited a Greek tragedy more than a Group E fixture. The referee, Björn Kuipers, awarded a penalty, but VAR—like a deus ex machina—intervened. The decision was reversed. Justice prevailed. But the damage to Neymar’s dignity lingered.
It is tempting to view Kuipers' restraint as the day’s quiet victory. His earlier admonishment of Neymar—an almost paternal rebuke—underscored the surrealism of the affair. At times, it felt as if Brazil's number 10 was fighting not just defenders, but the very idea that football must still be played in earnest.
Against this backdrop, Coutinho shone as a figure of resolve. His movement, intelligence, and urgency provided the structure Neymar’s tumult continually threatened to unravel. He was the fulcrum, quietly orchestrating while others performed.
Tite, Brazil’s head coach, deserves credit for his substitutions, which slowly recalibrated Brazil’s rhythm. Willian’s withdrawal at half-time allowed Douglas Costa’s incisive play to stretch Costa Rica’s backline. Roberto Firmino’s introduction injected further verticality. As the game wore on, the pressure became ceaseless, until finally Costa Rica’s defense—heroic for 90 minutes—buckled.
St Petersburg’s stadium, a marvel of modern engineering, loomed above it all like a dispassionate sentinel. Its gleaming girders and retractable roof framed the drama, though even such grandeur seemed to flinch from the operatic spectacle unfolding below.
In truth, this World Cup still awaits its defining symphony, its unambiguous show of dominance. Brazil, for all their stars and storied history, have yet to rise beyond the patchwork. Their performance here was a narrative of near-misses, emotional extremes, and a late reckoning. It may prove a necessary step, but it was far from an emphatic one.
Brazil marches on—but with more questions than answers. And at the heart of them is Neymar: talisman or totem, genius or jester, a man chasing both redemption and relevance, all while the world watches, half in awe, half in disbelief.
Thank You
Faisal Caesar
