Tom Lappin: Brazilians yet to thrive in Premier League

Published on Friday 13 November 2009 22:01

IT'S difficult, but try to spare a few drops of sympathy for Robson de Souza.

Robinho to his friends (and Mark Hughes). He thought he was joining a crusade to topple the hierarchy of the Premier League. He thought he was the keystone tenant in the Manchester City complex, the star who would attract other stellar names within his radius.

In addition to pocketing 160,000 a week in his pay packet, he would be adored, revered, hymned to the skies in the stands of the City of Manchester stadium and probably immortalised on an Oasis album.

The script turned out to be disappointingly different. Robinho's status at Manchester City in recent months has been as marginal and disrespected as it was at Real Madrid. He has spent long periods staring at dark Mancunian skies or answering questions from the Yorkshire constabulary about a rape accusation. The adoration of the City faithful never transpired, and Oasis have split.

Robinho will do the same in January, assuming there is a club out there prepared to offer a wage within respectable distance of his preposterous City salary, and prepared to have faith in the ability of a player whom Pele named as his natural heir ten years ago, but whose performances define inconsistency.

Hindsight helps, but Robinho's move to Manchester City was always a gamble, even if that padded pay-packet made it something of a no-lose wager for the player and his agent. A more gifted and astute Brazilian footballer, Kaka, realised as much when he rejected City's offer to bring him the moon on a stick if he would sign for the club.

You hate to leap to judgment but history and culture probably don't loom large in Robinho's priorities. A little knowledge of either though would have persuaded him that a temperamental Brazilian and Premier League football would not become best buddies any time soon.

In the feverishly polyglot Premier League, Brazilians have yet to thrive. The world's most fecund source of footballing talent sends its technically-gifted mercenaries everywhere else. Eastern European clubs of any status all have a couple of Brazilians. German sides are increasing their reliance on them. The entire Portuguese football economy is essentially propped up by the steady import of Brazilian prospects, decompressing in the relatively easy world of the Liga Sagres, learning the European trade, then moving on to more lucrative arenas (Spain or Italy by preference).

England though has yet to accommodate Brazilian genius in any significant way. Take a look at the Brazil squad to play England in Qatar today. Now Robinho has finally agreed with Mark Hughes that he is in fact unfit to play, the Premier League is only represented by those two hapless witnesses to Liverpool's current embarrassment, Lucas Leiva and Fabio Aurelio.

Both players, Lucas in particular, have been ridiculed for their inconsistent displays at Liverpool, but there is a sense the criticisms have been underpinned by an attitude of these guys are supposed to be Brazilian. The English stereotype of the Brazilian footballer is still illustrated with images of Mexico 70, or beach-kid geniuses performing tricks on the Copacabana. A sweaty midfield journeyman like Lucas, well, England can produce that kind of footballer itself (and has done for decades).

Look at Brazilian involvement in the Premier League though, and you see Brazilians striving to become more English, not Brazilians bringing their South American style to brighten up a prosaic afternoon in Wigan.

The Big Four, theoretically the clubs that could afford a little expansive flair are among the worst culprits. Liverpool's non-stars are echoed at Chelsea. Alex has become a stand-in centre-back, while Juliano Belletti may find himself back on the benches once Jose Bosingwa returns to fitness. They are both exemplary professionals, disciplined and reliable, neither the type to set the pulse racing in the gold and blue strip of the national team.

At Manchester United, Anderson Luis De Abreu Oliveira, is known by that anglophone first name, and appropriately so. Billed, preposterously, as the new Ronaldinho on his arrival in 2007, Anderson's performances have been more redolent of the new Nicky Butt, on the irregular occasions when he has applied himself.

United have yet to see the best of him, but his inclinations seem more combative than creative. Meanwhile the reserve full-backs, the twins Fabio and Rafael Da Silva were also burdened with expectation on their arrival. Their performances have suggested that Gary Neville might have become as important an element in their development as their country of birth. This is not encouraging.

Arsenal's Denilson might also be channelled towards a more pragmatic role in midfield, given that he has the job of covering Cesc Fabregas' forays forward. With Robinho's imminent departure, the closest player to the Brazilian stereotype left in the Premier League will be Geovanni, plying his trade at Hull City, whose Premier League future might be less assured than the players

The impression is that the Premier League gets the Brazilians it deserves, and when it recruits malleable youngsters like the Da Silva twins, it forms them in its own combative image.

Real Brazilian geniuses like Kaka or Dani Alves are increasingly rare creatures in a national team under the unromantic aegis of Dunga, but Brazil remains a valuable counter-balance to the Premier League's craving for global dominance. This evening's match in Qatar will be a rare example of England's players coming up against opponents who disdain and reject the Premier League. Perhaps that, and Robinho's disenchantment, will serve as a chastening reminder that England is not the centre of world football.