"Brazil" and "football" are words that go hand in hand together. It's almost impossible to think of one without thinking of the other. It's the national pastime in every sense: playing, watching, and talking about it. For some, it's a religion; for others, it's a waste of time. Either way, there's no denying that football is truly a way of life in Brazil, from the kids playing barefoot in the streets to international stars like Kaká or Ronaldinho. And who could forget the World Cup, the period every 4 years where the entire country stops for a month (and that's no exaggeration: during the 2002 World Cup, due to time differences between Brazil and Japan, matches would be shown here in the early hours of the morning meaning that most people simply wouldn't bother going into work the next day). Aside from producing anything from countless spontaneous and unorganised street parties to a national day of mourning in Brazil, the World Cup has cemented Brazil as pioneers and exporters of the "beautiful game", with fans at all four corners of the globe and beyond. Brazil is football and football is Brazil. And yet, 51 years ago, it was a very different story.

Jump back to June 1958: Brazil had still not been World Champions, having lost in their own backyard 8 years earlier in the final against Uruguay and going out in the quarter-finals in '54. Eager to prove themselves in Sweden, they arrived with relatively little support, least of all from the Brazilian press who expressed very low expectations of its national team. It wasn't long until the other teams, along with the rest of the world, began to see the elegance and skill these players displayed. Among them were the likes of Dino Sani, Gino, Joel, Mazzola, Zagallo, Gilmar, Bellini, Garrincha, and an 18-year old Pelé (pictured above, centre). Together, they led Brazil to victory and sparked a new stage in development for the country, both internally and within the international community.

Of course I've come to learn about all this over many years, mostly through my dad. The first World Cup I remember was '94, Brazil's fourth title. I was 7 at the time, the same age my dad was in 1958. Some memories remain very clear in my head as if they were from yesterday; my most vivid one is watching Roberto Baggio missing his penalty against Taffarel in the final, meaning that Brazil were champions again. As part of the same generation as Kaká or Ronaldinho, 1958 seems a world away from me, even more so because archive footage is more difficult to come by. Thanks to filmmaker José Carlos Asbeg, this should never be a problem again.

I went to see documentary of his last night at the Football Museum in the Pacaembú Stadium (Săo Paulo's equivalent of Wembley) entitled '1958: O Ano Em Que O Mundo Descobriu o Brasil' (1958: The Year The World Discovered Brazil). Whilst it was primarily about Brazil's campaign during the 1958 World Cup, throughout the film director José Carlos Asbeg demonstrates how it was more than just a victory at an international sporting competition, it marked a turning point for Brazil culturally. Through interviews with journalists, football commentators, politicians, and the actual players themselves, we learn that 1958 was when Brazil truly established itself as a country of value and worthy of recognition within the world. A national inferiority complex was done away with once Bellini lifted the Jules Rimet. Yet what makes Asbeg's documentary so genuine and soulful is the clear admiration he has for the players, his childhood heroes. In a talk after the film, he commented on how he struggled to find archive footage to show entire plays that led to Brazil's goals rather than simply showing the final kick. For Asbeg, it's not the goal itself that matters as much as the whole team working as a single unit to produce that goal.

Towards the end of the talk, someone asked whether Asbeg had considered analysing the "art" of Brazil's football and what impact that had on the world afte 1958. Asbeg replied that his intention with his documentary was never to theorise, it was simply to pay tribute to those players who he had venerated when he was younger. Perhaps this is exactly what we need to remember our forgotten heroes, to feel the emotion and energy that the fans felt then. I may not have been there, but after watching Asbeg's documentary, I'm sure I won't forget 1958.