Luis Suárez was banished from the 2014 World Cup and the President of Uruguay, Pepe Mujica, called FIFA “a bunch of old sons of bitches”, feigned shock, and for good measure threw a “fascists” in there. Mujica, then 76, had also been an urban guerrilla, shot six times, and spent 14 years in prison (in aggregate; he escaped twice). So I guess he knew plenty about viejos, hijos de puta, fascistas and, being Uruguayan, fútbol.

Uruguay was the original soccer superpower. La Celeste won the first two recognized world soccer championships (1924 and 1928 Olympics), and the inaugural World Cup, in 1930. This country has less than 3.5 million people, and YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT EVERY SINGLE PIECE ON URUGUAY POINTS OUT (click for slideshow).

Fuck slideshows.

* Uruguay has the most South American Championships / Copa Américas (15), seven more than Brazil (population: 203.6 million), and one more than Argentina (42.1 million)

* Their last World Cup won in 1950, the Maracanazo in Brazil;

* They do anything to win; and,

* Their fierceness on the pitch is referred to as garra charrúa, alluding to the bravery and guile of the charrúas, indigenous to the River Plate region (garra is “claw”, or “grip”).

The River Plate Region (via itimg.com)

So there’s been heavy angst, as Uruguay did not win much of anything in some 50 years after their last World Cup win. But their style of play remained. In 2007, Uruguayan writer Eduardo Galeano lamented: “We have come to believe that there is nothing more Uruguayan than playing on the edge of a red card”, but also denounced “this infamous law of our time that compels us to win, to show we have the right to exist”. Eddie could get a tad portentous; then again, he’s Uruguayan and the subject is fútbol (on Twitter, @Uruguay is the account of the National Team). But the doldrums dissipated because Uruguay hired a teacher.

Óscar Wáshington Tabárez Silva had been a bad defenseman, an elementary school teacher, and coached many teams, including time as the National Team’s head coach in 1990. (Admit it: “Washington” looks better with the tilde.) He was hired in 2006, and he prepared and installed a project: rebuilding the Uruguayan national teamS, giving special attention to the youth squads’ recruiting and coaching. It worked: in 2010 Uruguay reached the World Cup semis and won the 2011 Copa América. (In Argentina! Those Downfall videos are still pretty goddamn funny.) At present, Uruguay is atop the table of South American Qualifiers for the 2018 World Cup—all the while the same project, win or lose.

Everybody calls Tabárez El Maestro (the formal way students address a teacher), especially his national players. Most of the players are earning millions in Europe and convene under Tabárez only several times a year. But the reverence is earned: Tabárez recruited most and saw them through the ranks, and he is a teacher.

Tabárez carries himself with dignity, even when he got himself suspended. It was the nasty Copa América elimination game last year against host Chile. Two Uruguayan players got sent off after a foul only called in La Liga and a provocation (an unseen proctological exam before the carded shove):

Via i.ytimg.com

Tabárez went to the officials and stood up for his players, in the most hostile environment. I’ve heard you don’t dignify an indignity, but I know that every worthwhile student appreciates a teacher taking punishment for defending his or her students. El Maestro’s loyalty was not circumstantial: when Luis Suárez got suspended from fútbol, Tabárez resigned to all of his posts in several FIFA committees.

But enough Dead Poets Society claptrap. This is el Maestro Tabárez, from a 2013 interview with Martin Mazur:

[On #Winning] Let’s be clear: the stories that are told through generations are usually, with a very limited number of exceptions, of those who have won something. The other stories, even if they are told, years later they are played down, making us think that they were not that important after all, because they didn’t end by achieving their main objective. Therefore, I don’t feel any different, because we’ve been working for a while in the same way… [W]e didn’t change our way of thinking because we were not winning. If you’re convinced of something, you must go for it.

[On building through youngsters] When we took over [in 2006], several players from the Under-17 team were playing abroad or had just been sold to European clubs. We didn’t like it. Footballers cannot grow up alone and we believe it’s important not to interrupt the learning process. The U-15, U-17 and U-20 teams are vital to maintain the process. The key is to stimulate the feeling of being part of it and also to get them to know the history of our football, of La Celeste. It’s not a feeling based on irrational faith, but in knowledge. They have to realise that there is an illustrious history and that they might be part of it, in the future, if they try hard enough and establish themselves.

[On bulletin-board sloganeering] I’m an enemy of set phrases…. I believe the most important things are concepts; words can differ. During training sessions, we try to apply the same football concepts in different exercises and ways of working, in order to keep variety and not make it a monotonous routine. In language, we must use the same philosophy: if you start repeating phrases, after some time they might start to lose the real meaning, and instead of having a positive impact you’d be risking creating hollow talk… I try to avoid being seen as a slave of fixed expression.

[On teaching] I think I’m still learning. Every day, I learn something, especially when it comes to football. It’s not that I sit and give lessons to footballers. That said, in football I believe that being a coach is also being an educator, because first and foremost you’re dealing with a group of people. Watching them face new challenges and by witnessing how some of them are way beyond the expectations you originally set on them, I think a lot. I think of why such things happen and what special qualities they have in order to produce such an effect. In that thinking process, I learn. Some would say that’s becoming more experienced.

[On motivating the person, rather than the player] I don’t coach stars, I coach people… When I want to see stars, I look at the sky. I you’re willing to form a solid group, you have to start by giving the same respect to the one who is famous as to one who isn’t… How you treat players can have a huge impact. Sometimes we ask them for an extra effort, to play for them, for their teammates and their families, but also for their country and their manager. And even if they’d given all, you still expect something else. Only those who feel fully committed are able to try to give that extra bit, the tiny bit that at the same time is so difficult to find. But the way to find it is when you point to the person, not the footballer package… When you treat him with respect, when you put things in perspective, when you criticise him for a mistake but always with the positive tone that implies a way of making him become better in the future.

That banner photo is of the Uruguay bench jumping onto the field to celebrate with the starters after the early goal in the 1-0 against Jamaica (2015 Copa América). That is a committed team.

[On Uruguay’s “dirty” reputation] It was important to understand that history is a huge asset but we have to understand it well. It’s true that we’ve made mistakes in the past, when the result didn’t arrive and, out of impotence, we reacted. That notoriety, which I believe was also exaggerated, was only good for the opposition, because they tried to make us react. In the last few years, I believe we have changed the tendency. In South Africa in 2010, we were the team with the fewest cards, even though we were the ones that ran most without the ball and had the best defence, according to the Fifa stats. And all this in an atmosphere of respect, to ourselves, to the rival players, to the referee and the public. Of course, football is a game and there’s always the chance of making mistakes.

Well, if we’re going to talk about recent “mistakes”, all signs point to Suárez. Luis Suárez has played in Holland, England, and Spain, and finished as the top scorer in each of their top leagues. This is one way some teachers handle yet another fuckup from a brilliant pupil; Uruguay had just won the bite game against Italy and gone through the knockout phase of the 2014 World Cup, but this is as emblematic as an “I let you down” face gets:

Yes, Getty Images, Julian Finney

Uruguay plays hard defense, always has, always will. Yet, when they won the 2011 Copa América, Uruguay also received the FIFA Fair Play award, for having the fewest cards of the teams in the knockout round. Yet narrative is a bitch to shake off; Jonathan Wilson quipped that seeing the Uruguay captain “Diego Lugano with the [Fair Play] trophy was like seeing Osama bin Laden with the Nobel peace prize”. (I would have said Henry Kissinger because he actually won one of those, but I digress.) The team is built for it:

GOALKEEPERS (3): Martín Campaña (Independiente, ARG), Fernando Muslera (Galatasaray, TUR), Martín Silva (Vasco da Gama, BRA) Muslera is The Man, impenetrable as a diaphragm. ‘Nuff said.

DEFENDERS (6): Jorge Fucile (Nacional, URU), Jose Giménez (Atlético Madrid, ESP), Diego Godín, (Atlético Madrid, ESP), Maximiliano Pereira (Porto, POR), Gastón Silva (Torino, ITA), Mauricio Victorino (Nacional, URU). Uruguay plays with four at the back, with captain Godin and Giménez in the center. Both also played the same role for 2016 Champions League runner-up Atlético Madrid, the best defense in Europe this year. Giménez did not play on the final, and he was often seen sad on the bench. Yet, when Atletico tied it 1-1, he ran onto the pitch to join the goal celebration. The corner defensemen are often seen up the pitch, trying to disrupt the offense or pushing a forward a counterattack.

MIDFIELDERS (8): Egidio Arévalo Rios (Atlas, MEX), Matías Corujo (Universidad de Chile, CHI), Álvaro González (Atlas, MEX), Alvaro Pereira (Getafe, ESP), Gastón Ramírez (Middlesbrough, ENG), Diego Laxalt (Genoa, ITA), Carlos Sánchez (Monterrey, MEX), Matías Vecino (Fiorentina, ITA) Alvaro Pereira was famously /infamously knocked out unconscious by a knee to the head at full speed, then came to, the doctor asked for the substitution, and he jumped up and refused to be taken out at 1:20. (Jeff Fisher would approve; Case Keenum, um, not so much.) Egidio Arevalo is the quintessential Tabárez player: so-so club career, a beast for country. He is a defensive midfielder known as El Cacha (The Axe); this caricature sums up his style of play:

Via Taringa!

FORWARDS (6): Edinson Cavani (Paris Saint-German, FRA), Abel Hernández (Hull City, ENG), Nicolás Lodeiro (Boca Juniors, ARG), Diego Rolan (Bordeaux, FRA), Cristhian Stuani (Middlesbrough, ENG), Luis Suárez (Barcelona, ESP). Suárez is out for the group stage BECAUSE OF INJURY. Cavani, aside from being “the hottest man alive” (source: my daughter), defends all out for PSG, but very especially for country. Uruguay played very well in the South American Qualifiers without the world’s top striker, and Rolan is very fast and able, but has not been a finisher. I’d expect Rolan to get quality national caps on the South American Euros.

The slate is manageable:

June 5 against Mexico (8:00 PM EST – Glendale, AZ)

June 9 against Venezuela (7:30 PM EST – Philadelphia, PA)

June 13 against Jamaica (10:00 PM EST – Santa Clara, CA)

Not to get all Peter King on ya, but that is a tough travel schedule. Ask El Maestro, who embraced the bad cop role to take the heat off his players before the start of the tournament.

Regarding their play, Uruguay unapologetically plays depending on the opposition. In that interview, El Maestro stated: “we feel strong in limiting [the opposition’s] opportunities in order to create problems for them, as we also acknowledge the top level of our attacking players”. My wife agrees: after watching several EPL Leicester City games, she started to root for them “because they play like Uruguay”. She also says that La Celeste is “an impressive group of beautiful men that sports the tightest shirts in the business”:

I also agree. Via  interdoc.com. 

I have a bottle of primo hooch riding on that Mexico game *finger guns*, but I fear optimism got the best of me in that one *putting finger gun to temple*. Whatever: it’s Uruguay Nomá fuckos–win or lose, being considered dirty, hated by all. And never forget the truly committed teachers.

Banner image via lavozdelinterior.com; team roster and schedule via ca2016.com. For #NotContent pieces on garra charrúa, Joe Posnanski’s piece is great, and here’s Jonathan Wilson’s impressive telling of fútbol’s reinvention at the River Plate region in the early XXth Century.