Marcio Santos remembers the feeling. It was 1994, Brazil hadn't won a World Cup in 24 years, and the defender described it simply: "That's way too long for the Brazilian people." Paraphrasing a Netflix documentary, but the weight in his voice is unmistakable.
Now fast-forward 32 years. Same tournament on American soil. Same suffocating expectation. Same desperate need for a saviour.
Carlo Ancelotti, the man with the permanent smirk and the Champions League pedigree, has walked into a situation that makes Real Madrid's boardroom look like a Sunday league changing room. He's about to face Morocco — the first African semi-finalists in World Cup history — without Neymar.
And the ghosts of 2014 are still haunting the dressing room.
The Mineiraço never really ended
Brazil haven't won the World Cup since 2002. That's 22 years. For a nation that treats the trophy like a birthright, that qualifies as a slow-motion cultural crisis. They've made it past the quarter-finals exactly once in that spell — a 2014 semi-final that ended 7-1 against Germany.
Neymar is the only survivor from that night. He watched it from the bench, injured, helpless. Now he's injured again. The irony is so thick you could spread it on a pão de queijo.
Morocco aren't a gimme either. They held Croatia, beat Belgium, knocked out Spain and Portugal in 2022. They defend like their lives depend on it and counter like they've been promised overtime pay. Ancelotti's front three — likely Vinícius Júnior, Rodrygo, and Richarlison — will need to be sharper than they've looked in recent qualifiers.
What Ancelotti brings that Tite didn't
The Italian has one thing that no Brazil manager since 2002 has possessed: genuine tactical flexibility. Tite was rigid. Dunga was brittle. Mano Menezes was... well, let's not.
Ancelotti can switch between a 4-3-3 and a 4-4-2 diamond mid-game. He knows how to manage egos — he did it with Ronaldo, Zidane, and Cristiano Ronaldo. He's won the Champions League four times. He's not intimidated by the weight of a yellow shirt.
But this is different. This is Brazil. Where the president gets less scrutiny than the national team coach.
"More pressure than the president" isn't a throwaway line. It's the job description.
The Neymar problem
Let's be honest: Brazil without Neymar have looked like a Ferrari with a flat tyre. In the 2022 World Cup, they lost to Croatia on penalties after he scored a brilliant extra-time goal. Without him against Morocco, the creative burden falls on Vinícius Jr. — who thrives at Real Madrid with space and structure, but often looks isolated for Brazil.
Morocco will double-team him. They'll foul early. They'll test the referee's patience before the first 15 minutes are up.
Ancelotti's response will tell us everything. Does he drop Rodrygo deeper to create overloads? Does he start Gabriel Jesus to stretch the defence? Does he trust Casemiro to dictate from deep and risk being overrun?
These are the decisions that define tournaments. Not the glamour shots, but the granular tactical tweaks.
The bigger picture
Brazil's World Cup drought is now the longest in their history. 2002 to 2026 is 24 years. That's the same gap they endured between 1970 and 1994. History doesn't repeat, but it sure does rhyme.
If Ancelotti wins this thing, he becomes a Brazilian legend. If he falls short, he's just another European coach who couldn't understand the madness. The margin for error is microscopic.
Morocco on Tuesday isn't just an opening match. It's a psyche test. Win, and the narrative flips to 'renewal'. Lose, and the Mineiraço echoes grow louder.
Ancelotti has faced bigger games — but never one that carries the weight of a nation's soul.
No pressure, Carlo. The president gets off easy.