The Keeper will tell you what happened. I'll tell you what's coming.
There is a particular exhaustion that comes not from effort but from adjustment. You have already done the work of believing — and that work is real work, the kind that costs something, the kind you cannot simply do again because you have already spent it. You dressed for one weather and the weather changed while you were still at the door.
Scotland opened the whole of themselves to this. That is what being here means, after everything. The belief was not casual. It was constructed, maintained, it had a shape. And some of that shape was built around a version of Brazil that no longer exists.
The difficulty is not tactical — tactics bend. The difficulty is that fearing and believing occupy the same space in the chest, and you cannot hold both at full volume. A nation that has already committed to hope does not simply reallocate. It fractures a little. It tries to hold the original feeling and the new information simultaneously, and the trying is the damage.
I feel the recalibration happening. It is uncomfortable in the way of things that are true and inconvenient at once. And underneath it, I also feel something that has not moved — something that does not care what the opposition contains, because it was never really about the opposition.
That thing is still there. It is just having a harder week than it expected.