The cameras trailed Vinicius Junior into the tunnel at half-time. He turned back with a waspish smile and held up three fingers. He had scored twice, but the goal VAR had chalked off — for a contentious nudge on defender Jack Hendry when he stole the ball — was still playing in his mind. Before he disappeared, he stopped beside the assistant referee and wagged his index finger with a sarcastic smile.
It was not the numerical allure of a hat-trick that was disturbing him. It was the wider, intangible significance. Every goal scored takes him, or any Brazilian, closer to gaining unconditional love from their demanding fans. Every goal scored is another crucifixion passed. Every goal takes him closer to the pedestal of Brazilian greats. At no stage — not in leagues at home or Europe, not in crowns for individual glory — does a player win the fans’ heart more than with goals in a World Cup. Neymar once said: “The shirt is heavier when you play for Brazil in a World Cup.” Especially when you are the leading light, as Vinicius is, but not yet fully validated by the public. The public needs moments and memories, not merely goals.
Vinicius may not have known it, but had he scored that hat-trick, he could have been the first Brazilian since Pele in 1958 to score three goals in a World Cup game. An invisible line would have connected him and Pele. Brazil’s third eventually came from Matheus Cunha, wrapping up their most emphatic day at this World Cup.
But it was an evening Vinicius confirmed he was the figurehead — that on days like these, he could trim his frills and be a cold-eyed finisher. The two goals will not make it into YouTube reels, but they demonstrated the deeper, finer layers of his craft.
The first came from a defensive horror. A careless touch from Scott McKenna near the box allowed Rayan, a 19-year-old from a favela in Rio de Janeiro, to steal the ball and pass to Vinicius. He collected it, went round goalkeeper Angus Gunn and lashed it into the net. Nothing spectacular to the naked eye. But watch his touches: piercing and minimalistic, nothing wasted, neither energy nor space. He controlled it with his right, then slid it away with the outside of his right foot. Both touches were velvet-light. No fury exerted on the ball. “He is the most decisive player in the world,” Brazil manager Carlo Ancelotti has said.
It was hard to argue. “It’s his torque,” Brazil’s assistant coach Francesco Mauri noted before the World Cup. “He’s a phenomenon in how he uses it. He doesn’t need to wind up the shot a lot in order to generate power. After controlling it, he doesn’t waste time winding up. He uses his ankle and manages to place it and score.” His ankles contort as though they are made of wax. The great Ronaldinho too possessed rubbery ankles — little coincidence that both were groomed in the narrow hard courts of futsal, where close control is a requisite. Rayan, too, began his development at Vasco on futsal courts. Three generations of the same school.
The second was a humdrum header from a delightful cross by Bruno Guimarães. Vinicius, not renowned for thunderbolt headers, was a fraction late. But he leapt just enough to divert the ball goalwards, then pointed an imaginary gun at his head before the customary foot taps ensued. He had made the run from deep after completing his defensive chores.