Jerseys, rivalries and World Cups: A football memory

It was the year 2015. On a sunny day, under the scorching heat of the sun, a bell rang suddenly. Joyous moments flooded throughout the class, amidst the silent hue of the leaves, parallel to the atmosphere of the campus. Students of class 2 rushed outside the classroom, legs not stopping, eyes focused towards the field as if there was a marathon ongoing among them.

In the flock of enthusiastic kids, there was a boy, confused, panicked, Bazooka ball in hand, wearing the jersey of Brazil, one side tucked in, collar aligned with the school uniform; everyone could understand he had worn that while coming to the field. It was the games period. Those 11 would now play football. The team was divided in such a way that five went into one team while the remaining six into another team. Names were also given for both the teams: Argentina Strikers and Brazilian Brothers! The five were known as the stars of football in the campus. The whistle rang after a head-tail toss; the game started. Position, attempts, tactics were all in the favour of those five, even fouls. Surprisingly, there was no red card or yellow card system throughout the game. There was no positional division between both the teams. A defender was playing in the position of striker, a striker running throughout the field, the goalkeeper became a midfielder, keeping the goalpost empty. Three minutes into the game, at one point, Bazooka into the nets. Goal! 1-0.

Following this pattern, the game continued for 30 minutes. The result marched on to 5-0, and here was the end of the match. Congratulations to those five. A reflection of pure children’s games—focused, excited, feeling like playing in FIFA.

There is one more thing that hardly surpasses it: the urge to fight for the favourite team. Back in 2012–2017, there was an immense craze between Argentina and Brazil. Everyone could die for their team, trying to present it as the best. Amidst these two teams, there were a few Spain and Germany supporters, but the main debate always sat in the frame between Rio de Janeiro and Floralis Genérica.

Back to the aftermath of that 30-minute match. In the last 10 minutes, fighting, debating, crisscrossing words and what not occurred between the two teams. Of course, you can guess what it was about: Argentina and Brazil.

The boy wearing a jersey, playing neutral in argument, was saying, “My entire family supports Argentina, even my grandparents. But it is me who supports Brazil.”

The football star of the campus, in response, said, “Which team do you actually support? One year you support Argentina, the following year you support Brazil. Just a chameleon.” Laughter rolled throughout the field, especially from those five.

The spirit of friendship was alive. Those six now united and argued their best, giving rebuttals, arguments, trying to prove their point by giving validation. This way, the 10 minutes passed. End of games period, end of proving which team is best.

That jersey boy is none other than me. [Deep breath] Looking back a decade ago, those days felt real. Those memories, those people, the games period, switching teams by observing the current champions, everything feels like a part of life one never wants to forget, but always misses.

Back in the 2014 FIFA World Cup, Brazil were knocked out in the most horrible way possible. I still remember the match between Brazil and Germany on 8 July 2014. The knockout of Brazil, after a 1–7 defeat, was a terrible night for every Brazil supporter, including me. The night was filled with tears, hopelessness, chest pain and anxiety. While the joy and satisfaction were more than Eid for the Argentina fans, in some parts of Bangladesh, the beauty of this country’s unity was noticed. Argentina fans consoled Brazilian fans, gave them hope for the next World Cup and so on. Yet the majority still taunt, even a decade later. Perhaps that is the beauty of football.

The love for jerseys never faded away. Despite supporting Brazil, I had a knack for buying jerseys of World Cup teams, especially those with the best designs. Such as in the year 2022, I had bought around six jerseys. This year I have already bought Brazil’s away jersey, but I am intending to buy Spain’s away jersey as well.

Brazil has always been my favourite team. From wearing jerseys and buying the away one every season, to waving the flag from the veranda like others, everything reflects the true spirit of football.

It is not just about jerseys, but also all the magazines that used to be distributed through newspapers, such as “বিশ্বকাপের বাঁশি”, colour-printed team photos, and the ultimate craze.

Those crazes are still alive, but not in the way they used to be before. As time goes on, we move from craze to understanding, from shifting teams to considering constancy, from enjoying to analysing, from falling asleep amidst the game to staying awake the whole night, and moreover from watching every match with family to watching alone on the big screen.

Life has given us responsibility, success, even failure, but also those moments as nostalgia in terms of motivation. Talking beyond FIFA, we had a rich culture of football in the 90s. The firing of Shabbir Ali, Mohammed Selim, Jamshid Nassiri from Mohammedan FC helped build a rich legacy of Abahani FC by Kazi Salahuddin, Monem Munna, Imtiaz Ahmed Nakib. Football legacy runs in the blood of this country.

Even apart from football clubs, Bangladesh football has a magnificent history, a tale of resilience, tracing from the inspirational 1971 Shadhin Bangla Football Team that raised funds for independence, to the iconic 1980 AFC Asian Cup qualification. The legacy continues to grow, highlighted by landmark moments. Although the golden era lies between the 1970s and 1980s.

Hearing these stories continues to inspire me whenever I watch football, support a team or even play football. As these are our roots, it is important that we inscribe them in our ethical norms in terms of football.

Not only men’s football, but also the rise of the Bengal Tigresses shows how football has evolved in this region over time.

A few months back, while I was talking with my maternal grandparents, my grandfather spoke about the football matches they used to watch by bunking school. One of the tickets is still preserved in the treasury of my grandfather.

As the FIFA World Cup 2026 is approaching, the rivalry of words continues to unfold in my house, in my friend circle, and in every associated organisation. But the seasons we grew up with are slowly fading away.

The grassroots level enjoyment is still vibrant. Looking at the children, the old memories come back. But as the country prepares for the greatest showdown on Earth, a part of me is dancing today in 2026, just like that jersey boy from 2015.

Tahmid Zarif is an undergraduate student studying at BRACU in the Department of Economics. He is also a contributor and writer at TBS Graduates and The Financial Express. He can be reached at zariftahmid373@gmail.com.

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