One would think that a football school bearing the last name of a Brazil football legend would bring more traffic jams to the already clogged streets of São Paulo's Brooklyn neighborhood. But the Rivelino Sport Center is not the place hopeful parents and children should head to if they dream of glory days; instead, even the school's website is quite frank when giving information on its activities.
"Our football school aims to prepare kids for a healthy and structured future [sic] through the practice of sports," says the disclaimer, placed side-by-side with an ad about travel packages to the Disney Cup, where the visit to the Magic Kingdom is more highlighted than the tournament itself.
While Roberto Rivelino is certainly not the only Brazilian world champion to stray from the game after retirement, it is puzzling he is still in touch with the game through some kind of grassroots initiative that at the same time couldn't look more distant.
"I will be honest with you. I just can't bear the thought of having to teach somebody how to hit a football. You either have the talent or you don't. You can certainly work enough for kids to be able to play well at neighborhood kick-abouts, but at the professional level I just don't feel like getting involved," he admits in his strong "paulista" accent, the one in Brazilian Portuguese that reflects the most history of Italian immigration.
It is not the first strong statement that the 1970 Seleção legend will make during our conversation, either. The initial topic of discussing the 40th anniversary of Brazil's participation in the 1974 World Cup and their dismantling by Johan Cruyff's "Clockwork Oranje" quickly gets kicked to the stands by Rivelino with the same power his left foot used to boast -- the man is not known as the "Atomic Paw" for nothing.
Higher on his list of subjects is what he detects as an identity crisis in Brazilian football. "I am livid to read the news that the Seleção cannot find a pair of reliable center-forwards, for example. When has it actually been a problem for Brazilian football to find No. 9s? We have lost our philosophy and are paying the price now," Rivelino affirms.
The 1970 legend is actually more worried about the man supposed to feed those No. 9s. It might sound very radical when he classifies Neymar as the only outstanding Brazilian player as of now, but he justifies that remark with the argument that the Barcelona man will often break ranks on the pitch.
"A craque [what Brazilians call their outstanding players] is a bum. He shouldn't be chasing people around. But these days coaches are forcing this special kind of player to relinquish his spontaneity. But what worries me is that this practice is happening earlier and earlier in Brazilian football. Kids are being robber of the cheekiness, the improvisations. It happens elsewhere too, you haven't seen a 'lazy' midfielder since Zinedine Zidane," roars the 68-year-old.
Rivelino argues that the acceptance of a more tactical approach to the game has reached overkill. He couldn't be more critical of the model that gave Brazil their fourth world title in USA 1994, the first one since the heroics of Mexico 1970. "I don't buy this argument that Brazilian football needed to modernize. Our team in 1970 was pretty advanced for its time in my opinion. We had the same characteristics that people hail when they see Barcelona playing -- and they were pretty much influenced by the Dutch guys from 1974."
"That idea of occupying space and moving the ball wasn't invented yesterday. But instead of calling up players for their skills, the Seleção these days has the tactical usefulness as a criterion. Ah, but some people in Brazil say that winning ugly counts. But apart from 1994, where Romario's refusal to conform was crucial for the title, that approach never really worked out for us again. And that 1994 team was horrible to watch, for goodness' sake," he reckons.
Apart from some stints as a commentator in the 1990s, Rivelino these days is rarely seen in the Brazilian media, unlike some of his 1970 colleagues. Working as a manager never really tempted him and the Atomic Paw doesn't hide the reasons. "First of all, it would irk me to work with players that have already come from the youth ranks unprepared. I was appalled to hear that [former Brazil and São Paulo FC] Telê Santana had to try to teach Cafu to cross at the first team. I didn’t train to take free kicks, for example."
But he also admits that the bad experiences of some of his friends killed any remaining desires to sit at the dugout. "Jairzinho was a great player but didn't work out as a manager [a two-year stint as Gabon manager being the highlight of his career], for example. Carlos Alberto tried for 20 years to establish himself. Somehow it's not that simple translate to players what you knew how to do on the pitch. That always looked pretty daunting to me."
He also sees little desire for change from the football industry in Brazil. From youth academy coaches worried about getting the sack from clubs eyeing up opportunities to sell players, Rivelino sees a scenario of short-term interests. "There's too much money involved. Players as early as 12 have got agents and have higher wages than many adult Brazilian workers. The financial side of the game is proving more important."
So how does Rivelino see Brazil doing in the upcoming World Cup? Alongside the fear that Neymar's knees could bend with the weight of expectations put on his shoulders, he is worried about what he sees as lack of inspiration in Luiz Felipe Scolari's team.
"The Seleção needs to be creative but that will only happen if the players are not afraid of losing. We don’t have to focus of preventing other teams from playing. As of today, there are better teams than Brazil. Also, this 32-team format means a lot of mediocre teams can now make their way to the World Cup and play negatively. Neymar can make the difference but we can't expect him to sort everything out," believes Rivelino.
The Atomic Paw does have a lot of sympathy for the Seleção's mammoth task of handling expectations before and after the World Cup. A veteran of three "incursions" and 40 goals in 120 games, he felt the different ends of the emotional spectrum in Brazil. In 1974, for example, fourth place followed the bedazzlement four year earlier. "We lost important players ahead of the tournament. Gone were Pele, Tostão, Carlos Alberto and Gerson, for example. We lost to a great Dutch team but had our chances to win that game. But in Brazil not even a second place will be good enough. This hasn't changed at all, unfortunately," he says, sighing.
It's on that note that Rivelino excuses himself after almost an hour of conversation. While he is not shouting them from the rooftops, Rivelino's concerns are loud enough to worry those willing to listen about the future talent pool the Seleção will have at their disposal.