What is your most traumatic moment

Football World Cup 2014: Brazil is ashamed

Reinhard Krennhuber from Belo Horizonte

The bus station in Belo Horizonte is very busy - with emotional sub-zero temperatures. It's amazing how quiet thousands of Brazilians can be. Only Erico, who is smoking one cigarette after the other at the entrance, needs to speak.

"It can't all be true. I didn't expect a victory, but that we're embarrassing ourselves!" Says the man in his mid-thirties, who with his body torn at the neck doesn't look like the lawyer he imagines . After my invitation for a cachaça, a sugar cane schnapps, the speech falls on the defeat, known in Brazil as maracanaço, in the final game of the 1950 home World Cup against Uruguay, which has been considered the most traumatic moment in Brazilian football history to date. "It's over now," says Erico, "because compared to what we experienced today, that was a side note."

The German fans can be seen on the departure platforms. During the two-hour wait at the bus station, I only hear one singing song, and that too falls silent again immediately. The German appendix shows respect for the losers at the moment of triumph - probably also out of self-protection.

According to the German fan embassy, ​​there are no attacks on DFB fans in Belo Horizonte, but it should not have been so peaceful elsewhere. A German fan reports of hunting scenes and attacks in Rio's Copacabana beach district, which the Brazilian media were supposed to confirm the day after.

"Dilma R. Bewitched, scolded, despised"

On the bus I sit next to Bernardo, who works as a journalist for the Globo network but was a fan of the game. "I turned off my cell phone," he says, "my family and friends keep calling and I don't want to talk about how shit I feel anymore."

But then, face-to-face, an interesting conversation develops. When asked why the spectators had taken their frustration out on President Dilma Rousseff and not on coach Scolari after the hopeless deficit, he said that, unlike Dunga, the coach at the 2010 World Cup, the team boss did not have the resentment with his selection of players of his compatriots. "We just don't have any better ones at the moment," the journalist sums up. Dilma, on the other hand, would have wanted to use the World Cup as a vehicle to prevail in the elections in October in the first round. "That went really bad. I wouldn't put a centavo on it now," says Bernardo.

When we arrive in Rio de Janeiro at five in the morning, the newspapers are just arriving. The quality newspaper "Folha de São Paulo" confirms the conversation from the bus. The cartoon on page two shows the president as a zombie - next to it it says: "Dilma R. Bewitched, scolded, despised."

The taxi driver who takes me to my apartment doesn't want to talk about the game. "Have a look at your newspaper," he says, pointing to the cover of the sports paper "Lance". The otherwise completely white side reads in black letters: "Outrage, anger, pain, frustration, irritation, shame, shame, disappointment."