One can call it irony or a simple twist of fate. A 35-year old, who had just relinquished his footballing kit for a coach’s tracksuit, was conducting drills with the Italian team at Rose Bowl, Pasadena.
It was the summer of 1994. Under the venerable Arrigo Sacchi , one of AC Milan’s most famous sons, Carlo Ancelotti , was learning the tricks to undo Dunga’s Brazil . But for the loss in shootout, Ancelotti ’s first tryout as coach would have been a stupendous success against the might of the Romario-Bebeto combination.
Thirty-two years on, five Champions League titles later, Ancelotti will again grace the dugout in the US. This time though, he would be conceiving the resurrection of the Selecao, a job that had never gone to a non-Brazilian for long-term. History struggles to remember the three outsiders who had coached Brazil, but the fourth one has surely made it to the annals. Already.
The calmest coach, as they call him now, has walked into the most emotionally challenging job on the planet. Ancelotti’s appointment was met with certain reservations from native Brazilians. Even the Brazilian president Lula questioned the Italian’s lack of experience with national teams. That Italy, who failed to qualify for the third successive World Cup, never sought Ancelotti’s help was politely referred to. Undeterred, Sacchi’s most famous understudy took the plunge and steered the wallowing yellow shirts through the qualifiers to the big stage.
For a whole generation, Brazil has been aimlessly walking in the wilderness of world football. Memories of 2002, when Cafu lifted the trophy aloft in Japan’s Saitama, is sort of a forbidden underground club for the Brazilian Gen-Z. The 1970 triumph, to them, would seem like a yellowing diploma hanging on the far corner of the wall.
Repeated humiliations by France, the Netherlands, Belgium, Croatia and most recently archenemies, Argentina in the Copa and South American World Cup qualifiers, forced the Brazilian federation to finally seek the only option left — hire an European.
Ancelotti has been tasked with creating football mythology, to buy back the soul from football’s Mephistopheles.
Back in the US again, this time Brazil’s path looks less like 1970 or 2002 and more like 1994. That team, coached by Carlos Alberto Parreira , remains one of the most misunderstood champions in football history. For many romantics, the USA ’94 side represented the death of joga bonito; they were pragmatic, physical, cautious and occasionally blunt.
Yet, it was also mentally indestructible. Brazil conceded just three goals in seven games. They controlled matches rather than dazzled through them. And when the moment arrived, they trusted Romario, Bebeto, Dunga and an ageing Branco to deliver exactly what the team needed.
Ancelotti may be forced into adopting a similar blueprint.
“Perhaps this time we’re a step behind, but we’re on our toes and that’s always a good thing,” announced Casemiro, Dunga’s successor, in Ancelotti’s plans.
Brazil still possess immense attacking talent but unlike previous generations, there is no clear, complete superstar at peak maturity. Real Madrid ’s Vinicius Junior is devastating in transitions but less dominant in tight spaces both for club and country. Raphinha can explode one day and disappear the next. Endrick remains more a promise than certainty.
That is why comparisons with 1994 become fascinating.
Brazil do not necessarily need the next Romario. Crucially, they need somebody capable of producing decisive moments under stifling pressure. Romario scored only five goals in that World Cup, but nearly every touch altered Brazil’s destiny. His chemistry with Bebeto gave Brazil efficiency instead of spectacle.
Today, Vinicius and Raphinha could theoretically become that partnership, but neither yet carries Romario’s cold-blooded inevitability. Perhaps Ancelotti’s greatest task is psychological — convincing his attackers to become the men who decide tournaments rather than merely entertain them.
Then comes the important question of Dunga.
No player symbolised 1994’s anti-romanticism more than Dunga. He was criticised for years because he represented discipline over artistry. Yet Brazil won that World Cup under his leadership. Dunga gave the side emotional control. He imposed a competitive edge on a gifted but fragile squad.
Modern Brazil lacks that figure arguably more than they lack a Romario. Midfielder Casemiro has huge boots to fill.
The current side has technical quality everywhere, but emotionally they have looked vulnerable in tournaments. The collapse against Croatia in 2022, against France in a recent friendly exposed a team that can become frantic when matches stop flowing their way. Ancelotti’s history suggests he understands this deeply. His greatest teams at Real Madrid were not always tactically revolutionary; they were emotionally stable. They survived storms.
Perhaps that is the future of Brazil under him: less chaos, fewer risks, more control.
That does not mean ugly football in the traditional sense. Ancelotti is too sophisticated to turn Brazil into a purely defensive machine. But international football increasingly rewards structure over beauty. Argentina won the 2022 World Cup through resilience and tactical adaptability as much as brilliance. France reached two consecutive finals by mastering transitions and defensive balance.
The era of winning purely through flair is largely gone.
Brazil may need to accept that reality.
Ironically, embracing pragmatism could free them psychologically. The burden of performing “like Brazil” has haunted generations since 2002. Every failure becomes framed as a betrayal of identity. Ancelotti, as an outsider, might finally detach the team from that historical penitentiary.
And if Brazil do succeed on US soil, it may not resemble samba football at all. It may look far more like 1994: disciplined, hardened, occasionally uncomfortable — but ultimately unstoppable when the pressure becomes unbearable.
