Paul Lewis: Brazil had no defence for cracking in the heat

Germany's semifinal win could spell the end of Brazilian football as we know it.

Now we know why the rest of the world glories whenever the All Blacks crash out of the Rugby World Cup at the hands of France. It's an interesting study in schadenfreude and how the world laughs when the mighty are not just fallen, but trampled.

But whatever happens in the Fifa World Cup final tomorrow morning, nothing will touch that remarkable, scarcely believable semifinal where Germany tore Brazil's footballing self-respect out by the roots. In years of watching world-class sport, I have never seen anything like that.

It was like watching soldiers slaughtering puppies. The world's top side - even if this was not the top team ever fielded by the World Cup's most successful nation - had a meltdown of epic dimensions.

This went beyond poor play; it looked like the end of Brazilian football as we know it. No more the wandering minstrels who could instinctively compose and play football of such symphony that it flooded the senses.

As they wandered about, sobbing like little girls after Germany's 7-1 hiding, you thought back to the elite of Brazilian football - Pele, Socrates, Rivaldo, Kaka, Ronaldo, Ronaldhino, Zico, Romario and others. Players so skilled and famous, they invented the one-name footballer. Shorthand for brilliance.

No more. Brazil were shell-shocked after this match; they were the footballing equivalent of cuddling your blanket, sucking your thumb and rocking back and forth.

Most thought this was not a Brazil side that contained anyone of the ilk of those above, with the possible exception of Neymar, but home advantage and the crowd were expected to be big factors. In the end, it wasn't Neymar's absence that told; captain and defender Thiago Silva was most missed. Without him, the Brazilian defence, already eccentric and forgetful, advanced into full-blown senility. David Luiz looking, as he does, like a cross between Sideshow Bob and Krusty The Klown, was the most obvious offender. When the first goal came, Germany's most dangerous attacker, Thomas Müller, was inexplicably alone in the Brazilians' box. There have been people lost in the Sahara dying of thirst and spectacularly solitary after their camel died who were less alone than Müller was.

Luiz was the nearest defender, if he can be so termed. Without Silva to marshal him, Luiz was all over the pitch doing God knows what. He was like a dog who leaves his owner to run across the road when he spots another dog whose bum he wants to sniff. Fernandhino gave the ball away for one of the Tony Kroos goals. Marcelo, Dante and Maicon were like road cones - bright and colourful but easy to navigate past.

Brazil were so woeful that, if there hadn't been so many players performing poorly, you would have sworn the fix was in. It called to mind a Monty Python skit, a match between Manchester United and the Long John Silver Impersonators' Club. United were scoring goals at will; their opponents were all dressed as pirates, all had a wooden leg, a crutch, an eye-patch, a tri-corner hat and a parrot on the shoulder. They just stood there on their crutches; all they could do as United ripped past them was say: "Arrr, Jim lad...".

You just hope Brazilian football isn't damaged; that they don't over-correct to embrace the prosaic truth that defence comes first. Winning by scoring more goals or more points than the other guys is still one of sport's most compelling elements; much more so than a defence-oriented grind.

But they need help in that most difficult of areas - handling the pressure, one of the great imponderables of sport. The best, the most skilful, the most talented players do not always win. Those who handle the pressure do. That's why the All Blacks developed that fear of losing that has served them so well. Tana Umaga was once asked if expectations of All Blacks fans was too much to bear. "No," he snapped. "It helps us win."

Hopefully Brazil use this shattering reverse to preserve the brilliance but build their ability to survive the pressure without cracking like an egg.