James Lawton: Beauty of Brazil softens the hard heart of Scolari

Tough and pragmatic coach reviled for dropping Romario is converted to tradition of 'the beautiful game'

Inside the Brazilian camp there is no doubt about the team's most remarkable development as it unfurls like a giant sunflower and threatens to engulf Germany in Sunday's history-charged World Cup final in Yokohama.

It is not the emergence of Ronaldinho, the 22-year-old destroyer of England whose return after a one-match suspension is considered the most compelling reason to believe Brazil are about to annex an astonishing fifth trophy. This is considered to be as perfectly scheduled as a Japanese bullet train and has been freely predicted since Ronaldinho almost single-handedly won the World Under-17 trophy in Egypt against a flagrantly over-aged Ghana team.

"The Ghana players were so physically mature," recalls one Brazilian eye-witness, "we felt one or two of them might have been young grandfathers. They were wiping us out, but Ronaldinho changed all that. He scored a brilliant free-kick – so you see he wasn't breaking new ground against England – and the Africans were destroyed."

No, Ronaldinho is not a surprise, just another piece of thrilling Brazilian destiny. It is the same with Ronaldo and Rivaldo, who dispute the individual scoring prize with six and five goals respectively. Though both have been nursing injuries, they have ceaselessly hammered out their determination to stamp their names on a tournament which for so long has defined Brazilian greatness.

So what is most remarkable about the repossession of Brazil's old mystique? It is the change it appears to have worked on coach Luiz Felipe Scolari.

"There are many people in Brazil," says a camp insider, "who just do not believe Scolari is one of them. His football is from another world, tough and hard and not at all romantic. He cut the country in half when he refused to have anything to do with Romario. Even though he is 36 and maybe a little crazy, Romario is considered to be part of the soul of Brazilian football, and there was a lot of anger when it was clear Scolari wouldn't have him at any price.

"But the feeling is that it was the action of another Scolari – the one who existed before this team carried him to the final. There is a belief that he has been changed by the success, that he has finally come to understand that Brazilian football has a spirit and a meaning beyond any individual coach. We believe the new Scolari would have given more consideration to Romario."

Scolari isn't giving much away on the issue of Romario, the little striker who rose from a shanty town to become a hero of the nation when he played a vital role in Brazil's last World Cup triumph, in America eight years ago. But the coach is unquestionably softening. Yesterday, in the wake of the 1-0 semi-final victory over Turkey, he talked emotionally about his intention to embrace his German opposite number Rudi Völler before the game.

"In the end," he says now, "whatever you want for the team, whatever discipline and spirit you wish to put in place, you have to accept that the players have to decide. So coaches have to know that they can only do so much. My players have been tremendous. They have grown before my eyes."

Perhaps Scolari – who built his controversial reputation with successful, but, at least to Brazilian eyes, unbeautiful work at Ronaldinho's first club, Gremio, and then Palmeiras, one of Rivaldo's stops on his dramatic way – has learned from the experiences of his predecessors. In terms of philosophy, he is probably most closely linked to Claudio Cautinho, an ex-military man who was obsessed with the value of new fitness techniques. It didn't work. Brazil made only a marginal impact at the 1978 World Cup, and Cautinho, a strikingly handsome man, later died in a drowning accident.

Scolari, whose resemblance to Gene Hackman has provoked some to nickname him Popeye, the New York cop so colourfully portrayed in The French Connection, must hope he doesn't experience the football fate of Tele Santana, the man who in 1982 moulded the Brazilian team rated by many as second only to that of Pele's in 1970.

Santana didn't fight the free spirit of Brazilian football – he released it, and for a while it seemed that he would forever be remembered fondly by the fans. The team of Zico, Socrates and Falcao threatened to destroy the field in Spain in 1982, but a moment of defensive madness by Junior in Barcelona allowed Paolo Rossi to strike the most vital blow in Italy's ascent to the title.

Scolari, haunted by such a prospect here, has tried to shackle some of Brazil's most extrovert instincts, but now he seems to have settled for life on a beautiful wing and a prayer.

There doesn't seem much of an alternative. Though some worried that Brazil left themselves with too fine a margin against Turkey in Wednesday's semi-final, the players clearly believe that their best chance is to live by the sword rather than the shield.

Ronaldo, who despite a nagging thigh strain is confident that he will start Sunday's final, has certainly re-dedicated the team to the tradition of Romario, the wild attacking spirit. He said that his winning goal against Turkey was dedicated to the man who had so profoundly coloured his own youth.

"It was a Romario goal, didn't you see? He scored an identical one in America against Sweden in 1994," he said. "Romario's genius was to surprise defenders, they never knew which way he would go, what he would do. I have studied him, in his success and his troubles, and people have advised me on how to avoid some of the problems he has faced. But he has always been a hero to me. If we win this World Cup, we will have a part of Romario with us."

Romario, certainly, and others, like Garrincha, the Little Bird who filled the streets when his funeral cortege passed by; and Tostao, who required an eye operation in Houston, but not any advice on cutting through a defence; and Gerson, of the uncanny left foot; and, of course, Pele.

"Big Phil" Scolari tried to make a break with such a tradition, or at least whip it into the limits of sound and conservative football practice, but he failed.

His good luck is a chance to avoid the fate of Santana, a man who celebrated the genius of his footballers and died by one of its betrayals. Scolari said that he wanted victory not style. Now the chances are he will get both. No wonder he is a changed man. There are many reasons for a coach to compromise, but none can be as compelling as winning Brazil's fifth World Cup.