Lessons from the World Cup: deixa pra lá

July 2026

I learned something unexpected about emotions during the 1998 World Cup that has stuck with me for all these years.

I was living in Buenos Aires at the time and watched practically every game that summer, cheering and suffering alongside the Argentines. While there were many memorable moments (such as getting tear-gassed with thousands of others celebrating at the Obelisco after beating England), the moment I’ve been thinking about lately happened after the final.

Argentina had been knocked out, and the final was Brazil vs France. The Brazilian bar where we went to watch the game was as raucous and festive as you can imagine. Brazil were the defending champions and predicted favorites with a roster of dazzling superstar players including epic striker Ronaldo (R9) at the height of his fame. The place was packed and celebratory from the start.

As you might already know, the game did not go as expected. Brazil was crushed in a shocking and brutal 3-0. After the final whistle, a terrible silence and stillness descended in the bar. Then grown men and women began openly weeping and embracing, shouting and gesticulating. My friends and I quickly decided to call it a night. We were also disappointed by the result and in no mood to prolong the experience, especially in a situation that might turn volatile (one time being tear-gassed was plenty!).

However, just a few minutes after the game finished, music suddenly came on. Right on cue there seemed to be a collective decision: enough lamenting! We’re at the culmination of a month-long global soccer party on a beautiful summer night, what’s not to celebrate? Fans began to pick up the drums, whistles, and tambourines they’d been playing during the game. Before we knew it, everyone around us was singing and dancing samba again. The party was back on.

I honestly have never witnessed or experienced anything like it before or since. After a month of intense nail-biting games and constant postmortem sleuthing and debating, this was confusing. Aren’t we devastated? Aren’t we supposed to be venting, cursing, arguing, and taking out our frustrations on one another?

While I don’t intend to generalize about different nationalities, I can say that those Brazilians in that bar in Buenos Aires demonstrated something profound — joy is always a choice. They felt deeply, openly rode the waves of their emotions, and stayed attuned to the gifts of the present. Gratitude for this shared moment was palpable and inescapable.

Nearly thirty years later, when I am confronted with frustrating, upsetting, and unexpected losses (in life … and also in the World Cup!), I still aim to embody that lesson. Is there a good reason to stay mad, frustrated, angsty? Probably not! Can I make a different choice? Can I find gratitude for this moment? Maybe if I let it all out and “deixa pra lá,” as they say in Brazil. Let it go.