«Let's go, gang... Cut the nonsense...»

I've been reminded of Herman José so many times during the World Cup. Especially every time I watched Portugal play and listened to coach Roberto Martínez. Not for his sense of humor – quite the opposite, I've been closer to breaking out in hives – but for his rendition of an enduring song written in partnership with the late Carlos Paião, released in 1986 by the character Zé Estebes in the context of the national team's participation in the Mexico World Cup and the Saltillo incident:

«Let's go, gang

All in a scramble

This is total football.

Cut the nonsense

Put some power in those legs

Because Portugal is the greatest»

This song didn't change Portugal's fate in the Mexico World Cup – they were eliminated in the group stage – but at least it always entertained us.

I've been reminded so many times of Padre Pio and other saints proclaimed by the Catholic Church whenever I've heard Roberto Martínez talk about Portugal's matches. A saint attributed with the gift of bilocation, meaning the ability to be in two places at once. In Martínez's case, television images confirm: he was on the bench, directing the game we all saw; but then he speaks to us about a game only he witnessed. And I find that pure selfishness, since, unfortunately, no fan had the opportunity to watch that encounter. Which, by the way, was far more interesting... Saints aside, I'd prefer Fernando. At least he managed the European miracle.

Irony aside, Roberto Martínez should reflect on the words of British essayist and journalist George Orwell, author of, among other works, Animal Farm: «To see what is in front of one's nose needs a constant struggle.» Mental laziness or the difficulty in facing reality feeds on imagination and parallel worlds that no one else sees. Sooner or later, the exercise of seeing what is in front of us may not alter the outcome, but at least it allows us to move forward with our heads held high and with true learning gained. Reality has one characteristic in common with the weather: it's very stubborn and couldn't care less about our opinion of it…

Are we being unfair? There's no injustice in honestly stating what we're seeing. Could Portugal win the World Cup and force critics to apologize? If they win the World Cup, what joy that would be, but there are no apologies to be made. Criticism evaluates what is seen in the present, not the future. As British economist John Maynard Keynes argued, «When the facts change, I change my mind.» It's not inconsistency; it's a change in the facts that underpin the analysis and opinion. It's not a lack of patriotism; it's analysis. Happy is the person who understands that criticism is more useful for the future than ten praises. Wise is the one who can distinguish between fair and unfair, well-intentioned and ill-intentioned. Usually, those with a keen sense of self-criticism have the wisdom to detect these differences.

Where Martínez truly irritates me is when he takes everything that went wrong and identifies it as an important learning step, essential for the future. I almost wish Portugal had been thrashed by Colombia, because the qualification would be the same, and at least we would have learned more and been even better in the future... But, as we head into the knockout stage, I earnestly ask that this national team embodies the spirit of Sérgio Conceição when he took command of FC Porto: come to teach, not to learn. Because at this rate, we'll learn another valuable lesson from Croatia and still bring home homework…

I also don't understand how you prepare for a game against Colombia three months in advance, at over two thousand meters altitude, in the Azteca, against Mexico… Or how you prepare for DR Congo in a game against Nigeria, leaving out of the starting eleven, in the World Cup, precisely the players who performed best in the warm-up. Curiously, the only group stage game that Portugal tried hard but failed to prepare adequately for was against… Uzbekistan. Thank God…

I also take issue with a discourse that diminishes us. Portugal didn't come to learn, to follow what others want to do during a game. It didn't come to feel anxious. To have its goalkeeper as the best on the field against inferior teams. To be seen as a disappointment. Let them fail, but then let them fail with style and wanting to wear the mantle that is theirs…

Nothing kills confidence more than feeling like we're being taken for fools. Trying to convince us of a reality we know doesn't exist. Do they want our help? Acknowledge that you're in trouble, that you're not succeeding, that you're even blocked. I accept and help in my own way, clapping and shouting Portugal. Just don't tell me fairy tales. And I only hope, with hands clasped in prayer, that elite players like those in the national team don't believe almost anything Martínez has said about the performances, attitude, and learning. Because if they believe what the coach has said, we are lost.

Today, I only ask that the players take charge of the national team. That they want to win and take control. A year ago, we won the Nations League more by their will than by the coach's merit. Hours before the game against Croatia, a repeated urge to shout «cut the nonsense / put some power in those legs / because Portugal is the greatest».