There’s an old saying in Brazilian footballing circles: “The goalkeeper position is so bad, so bitter, that the grass does not even grow where the ’keeper stands.” That may go some way towards explaining why the terms “Brazilian” and “goalkeeper” have for a long time rolled off the tongue about as naturally as the terms “accountant” and “fun-loving” or “Pete Doherty” and “model citizen”. While the world marvelled at Brazilian skill and flair, it giggled at the men between the sticks, sometimes unfairly, usually with good reason.

But that was then, this is now. Brazil is in the midst of a goalkeeping renaissance. The top two teams in Serie A have Brazilian goalkeepers – Doni at AS Roma, Júlio César at Inter Milan. So do the present European and world club champions, AC Milan (admittedly, it’s Dida, who has been on a downward spiral, but, until a few years ago, he was among the very best). While arguably the best goalkeeper in Serie A this season has been another Brazilian, Rubinho, of Genoa.

It does not stop there. The champions of the Netherlands and Portugal have Brazilian goalkeepers: Heurelho Gomes at PSV Eindhoven and Helton at FC Porto. The man keeping goal for AlmerÍa, the surprise package in La Liga this season, Diego Alves, is Brazilian. All of a sudden, Brazil has become fashionable between the sticks. So much so that another wave of talented Brazilian goalkeepers is likely to cross the Atlantic this summer.

So where are all these good Brazilian ’keepers coming from? “They were always there, it’s just that you in Europe didn’t really notice,” Júlio César said. “And maybe in part it was down to [Cláudio] Taffarel. He certainly was my hero.”

Júlio César was 10 when Taffarel played in the first of his three World Cup finals appearances for Brazil. He was the first Brazilian goalkeeper to move to Europe and win significant silverware, starring in the Champions League with Galatasaray in 2000-01 after winning the Uefa Cup with the Turkish side the previous season.

The suggestion is that having a top player children can identify with creates a virtuous cycle, in which kids seek to emulate him and, in turn, become top players themselves. It is a theory, nothing more. But you can test it in Poland, another nation that is having a goalkeeping renaissance. Artur Boruc, at Celtic, is already one of Europe’s top ten. Tomas Kuszczak has started 12 games for Manchester United this season. The fading Jerzy Dudek lifted the European Cup three years ago. Arkadius Malarz is getting rave reviews at Panathinaikos. Lukasz Fabianski is the heir apparent at Arsenal. And AC Milan spent big to secure Michal Miskiewicz, 17.

So did Poland have its own Taffarel who inspired legions of would-be goalkeepers? Not really. The last outstanding Polish goalkeeper was Jozef Mlynarczyk, a European Cup-winner with Porto, who retired in 1989. But perhaps Poland had something just as important as someone to look up to: satellite television.

Globalisation has eliminated mediatic borders. A child growing up in Warsaw is just as likely to idolise Gianluigi Buffon as he is Boruc. The growth of the Champions League and the proliferation of foreign football on television has given a generation of youngsters a new set of heroes who do not necessarily hail from the same country or even the same continent. It worked for Buffon, whose idol was Thomas N’Kono, the legendary Cameroon goalkeeper.

It is as good a theory as any. Until someone can explain why the top ten Brazilian goalkeepers are as good as the top ten from any other country, or why Polish goalkeepers are en vogue like never before, it will have to do.

Friedel makes my point

Speaking of goalkeepers, one thing that is obvious in covering world football is that different cultures view them differently. The phrase “that’s a lot of money . . . for a goalkeeper” is something you just don’t hear abroad. Nor do top goalkeepers express too much shock, as David James did yesterday, when they are shortlisted for awards.

It is as if goalkeepers are a separate, somewhat inferior breed. Which is rather curious since it is the only position that can be directly assessed with some level of scientific accuracy. You can review every time a goalkeeper is involved and judge, more or less accurately, which saves he should have made but did not (minus points) and which saves he should not have made, but did (plus points). And you can probably figure out how many more – or fewer – points a team would have because of their goalkeeper. Anybody who saw Brad Friedel, of Blackburn Rovers, on Saturday against Manchester United will know what I mean.

Better late than never?

So now we know why Johan Cruyff, arguably the greatest European-born player in history, did not represent his country at the World Cup finals in 1978. He says it had nothing to do with reservations over Argentina’s military junta and its atrocities. Nor was it because of sponsor issues, as some cynics have implied (Cruyff was a Puma man, Holland were sponsored by adidas). Nor was it because his skills were visibly declining; that year, aged 31, he packed it in and moved to the North American Soccer League.

Cruyff says that it was because he was traumatised by a botched kidnapping attempt in which a shotgun was pointed at his head and his three children were threatened in his Barcelona home. It does make you wonder, though, just why it took him 30 years to tell the story.