Yes. It happened. It finally happened. Japan beat Brazil in soccer. Not on penalties, not with youth players, not in a borrowed jersey. They beat them well. On the field. In an international friendly that, for some, doesn’t count. But for others, like the kids who grew up watching “Superchampionship,” it counts more than a World Cup. And in 2025, Japan didn’t just score three goals: they delivered an emotional blow at the center of history. That story, the one of the untouchables.
Without context, there is no truth. And the context is this: Brazil had been dragging itself through the Qualifiers (fifth place), like someone who can’t find its way even with a GPS. But what happened in this match against Japan is not a mistake, nor a coincidence. It’s a message: soccer has changed. And so have cartoons.
Brazil: The team that slipped in the script of its own legend
In just 20 minutes, Brazil went from dream to trauma: leading 2-0, they ended up losing 3-2. The symbol of this catastrophe was Fabrício Bruno, a defender who, if he played in a cartoon, would be that character who falls at the opening match and no one remembers his name.
First, he slipped without pressure, as if Benji Price had pushed him. He gave the ball to Minamino and BOOM! A Japanese goal. Then he deflected the Japanese equalizer into his own net. And if more drama was needed, the 2-3 came from a header that Hugo Souza watched as if he were in the second episode of the series, still with subtitles.
Ancelotti watched like Roberto Sedinho, but without the stick or the wisdom. He declared afterward:
“The mistake made us lose our mentality.”
Thanks for the confession, mister. Because that’s what’s really worrying: Brazil has no mentality. It has a past.
Japan: From Fiction to Historical Fact
This was Japan’s first official victory over Brazil in history. If anyone wants to downplay it because it was a friendly, they’re invited to look elsewhere. Because what happened in this match is what an entire generation dreamed of watching TV: Oliver defeating the giants.
The narrative was like an anime: high pressure, team play, surgical precision, and a script that wrote itself. What was once a Japanese fantasy is now an official FIFA statistic.
Oliver Atom didn’t play for the national team, but Tsubasa’s spirit was in every pass, every goal, every second of the last 70 minutes.
And there’s a phrase I can’t help but remember:
“Brazil is the opponent to beat,” Oliver said in the series.
Well, Oliver, mission accomplished. And without needing a 10-kilometer field or tornado-effect shots.
What now?
Brazil will play Senegal and Tunisia in November. Teams with less romanticism but just as much, if not more, aggression. And if they continue to defend like this, more than one should go straight to a Netflix casting call, because in football, they’re no longer capable of acting.
Can anything positive be learned from all this? Yes. A great lesson: prestige doesn’t score goals. And today, more than ever, it’s been proven that modern football doesn’t respect badges or anthems if there’s no play, character, or system.
Because if Japan beat Brazil, then nothing is impossible.
And if Oliver is no longer a cartoon, Brazil should stop living in nostalgia.
The day Japan scored three goals and a dream
Brazil didn’t lose against Japan. Brazil lost against the idea that it will always be superior just because it once was.
And Japan didn’t win a match. It earned a legitimate place in the new global football order. One where work triumphs over myth, and effort triumphs over marketing.
That day, in a real stadium, Oliver Atom was real.
And Brazil… was just a blurry memory at the opening.
English 
Spanish 