Club World Cup | If you don't lose, you're stupid

The worst football club in the world is undoubtedly Íbis Sport Club. It's certainly not Tuv Azarganuud Football Club from Töw Aimag, even though the "Central Stallions" have lost all nine of their first-round matches in the Mongolian Premier League and now have a goal difference of 25:151 after 24 matches. Their worst performance came against FC Deren from the capital Ulaanbaatar (0:21).

No, the golden lead ankle bracelet clearly goes to Íbis SC from the northeastern Brazilian state of Pernambuco, which, based near Recife, "plays" in the local Serie A2. Its nicknames are "Black Bird" and "Worst Team in the World" (O pior time do mundo). But to be the absolute worst club, you have to offer more than just the crown of losing. It requires copious amounts of morbidity, a hefty dose of masochism, and the depressed seasoning of every defeat. This mixture leads to constant self-flagellation and thus to the praise of the ridiculous.

Íbis SC in Pernambuco is clearly the antithesis of FC Barcelona in Catalonia. President Ozir Ramos Junior, a former player and coach, describes his players' addiction to failure this way: "It's like an alcoholic and his cachaça (sugar cane spirit): He knows it's unhealthy, but he worships vice."

Can a club that defines itself through a sacred bird of ancient Egypt have a future? The Egyptians are said to have sacrificed the ibis bird so that the flies would fly away from the dead (though it was probably a bald ibis). Íbis SC, meanwhile, thrives on decay, on a rotting defense. Its strikers can't even hit a rainbow, and the midfield is more rigid than the center circle. Losing is a cult for the "Black Bird." Self-flagellation becomes a source of pleasure. Anyone can score goals. But why? All that matters is the ambition to lose.

The Pernambucanos earned their undisputed global reputation as losers, especially in the early 1980s, when they actually managed to go four years without a win. The fans were thrilled. They lost in a tennis-like rhythm: 15-0, 30-0, 40-0. And yet they were still chewing on their 1-0 victory against Ferroviário from the dark July 20, 1980. Another dark day for the club was June 17, 1984: Through no fault of their own, they defeated Machete FC from Recife 3-1. A dark provocation by their opponents, of course. In between lay 55 heroically winless matches, marred by seven draws (25 goals scored against 231).

The team's star from 1980 to 1990 was its only center forward, Mauro Shampoo. During that decade, the "Matador" scored one goal (his work certificate). There is no photographic or filmic evidence of this. Football scholars are divided. Was it the goal in the terrible victory against Ferroviário? The club's greatest idol to this day, however, swears it was a consolation goal in the 8-1 defeat against the same club. It's never registered. The club's president during that era insists it was an own goal.

Next year, Mauro, who comes from the favelas, will turn 70. He has 13 brothers. His father was blind. The only title he ever won was that of barber. He cuts the hair of the club's new players and, most importantly, washes their heads. That's the prerequisite: understanding the club. In Brazil, he's more famous than Pelé; that's the price of losing.

His own hair, dyed, looks like a peacock fan over some kind of capybara nest. A movie star has also long been the spiritual leader of the defeat. He says things like: "Player, hairdresser, and human being, Mauro Shampoo at your service."

Those who don't celebrate defeats aren't bad enough. Goals conceded deserve to be celebrated. There aren't any of our own anyway. Less than one a year. The "Jogo bonito" is an invention of hostile journalists. If the club accidentally "wins" 0-0, the torcedores demand: "They should all get lost, all of them!" After all, they don't want to become the laughingstock of humanity.

The mascot is called "Derrotinha" (small defeat). The club's website has been down for decades.