IN THE LATE 1990s, A TEXAN investment fund called Hicks, Muse, Tate and Furst had what seemed like a brilliant idea. Brazil produced more top footballers than any other country. It had plenty of history, a football-mad population nearly 200 million strong, an economy on the upswing and a government hungry for foreign investment. Best of all, Brazilian clubs could be acquired for a relative pittance.

At the time, the game was booming in Europe, with clubs racing to list on the stock market and television rights going through the roof. Hicks, Muse (now known as HM Capital) hatched what seemed like a cunning plan. It would invest in Brazilian football, launch its own sports channel, the Pan American Sports Network, turn the league into a top-notch commercial operation and, ultimately, attain the holy grail that has eluded marketers for decades: conquer the US market via the Brazilian game, which it would tweak to make it more palatable to American audiences.

Needless to say, it failed on all levels. It ended up much like the priest in the opening scene of the 1986 film The Mission: killed, tied to a crucifix and then sent hurtling down a waterfall by a band of Guarani indians. Its mistake, like his, was that it was unable to make sense of Brazil. Then again, few have been able to.

The domestic league kicked off last week for what promises to be another season of madness. It will run for eight weeks and then, when the World Cup rolls around, take a break until July 12, before winding its way through to December.

The main problem is that, as always, the teams will be plundered by European clubs in mid-season. Throw in the fact that what passes for a domestic transfer “window” is in fact a free-for-all that runs right through to the end of September, and what you have is a league where a team can be completely overhauled in the course of a season. It may be Harry Redknapp heaven; it’s hell for most other managers.

Of course, Brazilian coaches are human perpetual-motion machines. Take Antônio Lopes, who led Corinthians to the title last year. He started the season at Coritiba, then took over at Atlético Paranense before landing at Corinthians. Few leagues give you the opportunity of coaching three teams in the same season while still picking up the silverware at the end of the year. In case you are wondering, he resigned last month, which means he could be headed for his fourth job in less than a year.

As nutty as things are today, it’s a big improvement on the past. Brazil has had a conventional league format, with automatic promotion and relegation, only for the past three seasons. Before that, the system seemed to change annually, usually to suit whatever big club was in trouble at the time. There is a proposal on the table to switch to a European-style August-to-May schedule, but even that has its opponents.

Against this chaotic backdrop, Brazil must balance the usual familiar ills of the modern game, from corruption to financial difficulties. And yet, somehow, the world’s greatest assembly line of footballing talent continues churning out top-class players. You only need to look so far as the Champions League semi-finalists to see their impact. Brazil manages to supply both the star players of AC Milan (Kaká) and Barcelona (Ronaldinho) as well as the midfield enforcers of Villarreal (Senna, though the Spanish have, cleverly, naturalised him) and Arsenal (Gilberto Silva).

Corinthians, the defending league champions, are backed by a mysterious Iranian-born benefactor named Kia Joorabchian, whom the Brazilian press insists on continually linking to Roman Abramovich, though no evidence has been presented. Thanks to Joorabchian’s millions, Corinthians feature not just gifted Brazilians such as Renato and Ricardinho, but also the Argentina stars, Javier Mascherano and Carlos Tévez, the league’s best player last season.

São Paulo, the world club champions after defeating Liverpool in Tokyo in December, are led by Rogério Ceni, the flamboyant goalkeeper, and now boast a formidable goal threat in Ricardo Oliveira, the former Real Betis and Valencia striker. Internacional feature Rafael Sobis, the teenage sensation who is supposedly Brazil’s next big thing, though Kerlon, of Cruzeiro, only 18, is apparently ready to supplant him as the country’s golden boy. Kerlon, nicknamed “The Seal”, has been known to outwit opponents by balancing the ball on his head as he runs past them.

One cannot help but think back to the Orson Welles line from The Third Man: “In Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo Da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love — they had 500 years of democracy and peace. And what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.”

• After two surprise defeats that left his team in danger of not qualifying for Europe next season, Constantin Iacov, president of National Bucharest, announced that his players will undergo lie-detector tests.

  “Think of it as a moral audit,” he said. “I want the players to honestly tell me they tried their best. The polygraph test will prove whether they gave maximum effort.”

  Iacov volunteered to be the first to be tested. Cristiano Bergodi, the former Lazio defender and National manager, will be next, followed by the players. “He’s the boss, he can do what he likes,” Bergodi said. “My conscience is clear. I just hope these tests are reliable . . .”