World Cup fuels longshot dreams for Brazil\\\'s poor

RIO DE JANEIRO (AP): The taste of soccer glory is still fresh for Andre Rodrigues de Principe, even as his moment of fame fades and he watches friends catch the eyes of scouts and coaches.
The bright-eyed 14-year-old shined in a video released last year ahead of the World Cup by FIFA, soccer's international governing body. In it, the wire-thin boy shows off stellar dribbling skill in a sandlot game, before he stunningly loops the ball over a defender's head to recreate an iconic goal by the great Pele in the 1958 World Cup.
Today, as Brazilians are captivated by the soccer tournament, the boy known as Andrezinho is without a club, and chances are dimming that soccer will help him find a way out of his humble hillside neighbourhood.
Andrezinho is among the countless Brazilian boys whose distant dreams of fame and wealth fuel an obsession, one that carries up entire families as well as an industry of coaches and managers hungry to find the next big name.
Andrezinho's star, however, may already have flamed out. Just about 5 feet tall, his growth has plateaued and, his mother says, he watches with envy as friends on his neighbourhood squad - some almost two years younger - dart past him in height.
Although he's trained with two of Brazil's premier teams, Fluminense and Vasco da Gama, he now only plays on a team with other kids from his Vidigal favela, as slums here are known. Unlike in families where boys are pushed from birth to be loyal to their parents' favourite team, Andrezinho would be happy to join any one.
"All I want to do is play soccer," he says shyly.
The road to soccer glory in Brazil is long and cruel. The favelas are breeding grounds for some of the world's top soccer talent. But for every player who makes it to a first division team, an estimated 6,000 are left behind, according to the Universidade do Futebol, a group that promotes the sport as a means to Brazil's development.
Even the fortunate few who make it are unlikely to land million-dollar endorsement deals or a fashion model girlfriend. There are 32,000 men playing soccer at some professional level in Brazil, but 80 percent earn less than $540 a month, barely double Brazil's minimum wage.
Payoffs are far greater than a pair of cleats or a stipend for food and bus fare. Money dominates the sport. The prospect of a seven-figure salary at a European club and a hefty transfer fee are salivated over all along the food chain, and children as young as 11 can command monthly payouts of up to $12,000, Tega said.