BRA/CUB - Parabéns, Brasil! Las conmiseraciones, Cuba

MADRID (FIBA Olympic Qualifying Tournament for Women) – Sunday marked the end of the FIBA Olympic Qualifying Tournament for Women.

Two teams that I fell in love with for different reasons – Brazil and Cuba – met in a do-or-die clash.

Brazil won, Cuba lost.

I had dreaded this day.

I had wanted both teams in Beijing.

Brazil go to China, Cuba do not.

Brazil had one soap opera of a week in Madrid. The team lost its number one center, Erika de Souza, to injury before the tournament and once the event was underway, another star, Iziane, lost the plot.

After an exchange of words with coach Paulo Bassul in the second quarter of the quarter-final defeat to Belarus – Bassul effectively told her she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to be doing – Iziane took a seat on the bench and sulked.

She didn’t play the entire third or fourth quarters and then refused to go into the game once it had gone to overtime.

Bassul kicked her off the team and later said the group is more important than the individual.

Brazil, getting excellent play from everyone, including youngsters like 19-year-old shot-blocking machine Franciele and point guard Natalia (she turns 20 on Friday), overcame the adversity to hammer Angola and then edge Cuba.

It’s impossible not to like Brazil.

One reason is the carnival atmosphere they bring to an event.

There were drums and a lot of dancing in the stands of their games. The Brazilian players sang and danced after the win over Cuba and I’m still finding it hard to believe how they celebrated.

Please check ’em out because it will make you want to dance.

Cuba did not dance after that game.

I’ve got a lot of memories from that team. I’ll never forget the mustachioed Cuba coach Alberto Zabala’s comments just minutes after his team’s loss to Spain.

Check out his intensity as he walks off the court and towards the Cuban locker room.

It’s worth noting that nearly ever Cuban player sobbed after that defeat to Spain.

About two hours later, once he had calmed down, Zabala looked at me in disbelief and tried to smile.

He put his hand on my shoulder and spoke in Spanish, which I understood to be this: “You are my friend.

“Okay now. Latvia played Senegal, Japan and Angola and won. They go to the Olympics.

“Czech Republic, they play Argentina, Angola and Japan and win to go the Olympics.

“But Cuba has to play Chinese Taipei, Belarus and Spain, then Japan and either Brazil or Belarus.”

“I know Alberto,” I said. “Es muy dificil. You had a tough draw. Life isn’t fair.”

“It’s okay,” he said, raising his voice. “We’ll beat Japan and then we’ll beat Brazil or beat Belarus again. We’ll go to the Olympics.”

It didn’t happen that way, though his team did lead Brazil late in the last game before failing to execute down the stretch and losing by five.

Strangely, the Cuban players took the defeat much better than they had against Spain.

You know what I noticed? Everyone, including journalists I’m familiar with in Europe, hugged Brazilian players. They are not unknowns.

I don’t think many people know who the Cubans are, though.

I genuinely wish we could see this team play some more. And I wish I could speak to Zabala some more. We both like baseball.

If I could see him, I’d say this. “Alberto, Cuba may have lost, but enhorabuena. We enjoyed watching your team play.”

FIBA