Dunga handed in his resignation immediately following the 2-1 loss to the Netherlands, citing that the blame was “his and everybody else’s”

To some extent, he was right. If, by “everybody else,” he meant Felipe Melo. And to a lesser extent, Julio César, trumped as one of the best keepers in the World Cup despite not having to do anything in the whole tournament, and failing the one time it mattered.

1. Melo’s case is more clear-cut as a reason for this shocking loss: his pass created the 1-0 as the Dutch defense failed to show up; his incisive pass, which a good defense would never have allowed, gave Robinho a cakewalk for the opening goal.

However, a long ball into the box in the second half showed a tactically unaware Melo, who impeded his own keeper (who probably should have called him off anyways) and headed into his own net. The worst was yet to come. When Brazil were down 2-1, his stupid and deplorable stomp on Arjen Robben deprived Brazil of an even handed contest.

Obviously frustrated, Melo had been the victim of numerous fouls, which brings me to a second point:

2. The Japanese referee, Yuichi Nishimura, was inconsistent in controlling the match. Moments before being sent off, Melo received a particularly brutal hack from behind from Mark Van Bommel. Amazingly, Van Bommel was fouling with virtual impunity throughout the second half, and in my neutral eyes could have gotten at least 3 clear-cut yellow cards.

It was a mystery to those watching that, for example, Michel Bastos would receive a yellow for persistent fouling, yet Van Bommel, fouling even more flagrantly and frequently, escaped booking.

Of course, none of these are excuses for Felipe Melo’s temper-tantrum and dirty kick. This side of Melo was obvious against Portugal, though in that case Dunga subbed him off before he could do himself (or an unfortunate Portuguese player) more damage.

3. This brings us to the third key in this self-destruction of the Brazilian team: Dunga. It is simple to see that in this specific match, he was all wrong in his changes; he really should have seen Felipe Melo, already visibly frustrated, off when they were drawing 1-1. Taking off Michel Bastos gave the Dutch loads of space to exploit on that side of the field, freeing them from his incursions down their own right channel.

Secondly, taking off Luis Fabiano and introducing Nilmar did not make much sense when they were 2-1 down. A forward-for-forward swap only makes sense when you are winning or drawing a very tight game in which a forward is seriously not functioning.

This last swap demonstrates one of Dunga’s biggest mistakes in the end: a lack of attacking and creative depth in the squad.

With the 1-0, Brazil did not dominate as they should have; their team was set up to play against a team that would attack them in the manner of Chile. In contrast with Spain, who held a masterclass of how to play with a 1-0 against Portugal, they were unable to keep meaningful possession. Unlike Argentina, who when winning 1-0 against Mexico went for the jugular, they lacked ideas and incisiveness when leading.

When tied 1-1, even more when they were losing, there was no go-to player that could come in and make an impact. This lack of an impact sub drastically limited the tactical options of the Brazilians. The conservative double-holding formation anchored by Melo and Gilberto Silva makes sense in a tight match in which limiting the opponents options takes precedence over creating chances.  Counterattacking is essential in such a system.

But when Brazil were desperately needing a goal, they had to take more risks, and simply did not have the resources to create them. Robinho and Kaká were exposed in a poor performance from both of them; by the time Holland scored, their defense showed itself to be more than apt in 1-on-1 situations, man marking tightly and pressuring the creators every time they had a touch. As a result, there were no options for either of them, and Luis Fabiano received no supply whatsoever all game.

At this point, Dunga’s great flaw of not calling up more attacking players is glaringly obvious. There was much controversy in Brazil at the repeated omission of players such as Juventus’s Diego, a brilliant midfield orchestrator; Alexandre Pato, who was injured until late April, yet still is a brilliant and irrepresible forward; and the old dog Ronaldinho, whose experience and vision might have changed things for Brazil.

And this is still overlooking attackers such as Hulk, who has been absolutely outstanding for Porto in the last couple edition of the Champions’ League.

For a time, these failings on Dunga’s part were overlooked. The world, and Brazilian fans, seemed ready to overlook the increasingly distant ideals of jogo bonito (which the British press, no doubt swayed by Nike, have perverted to Joga Bonito) in favor of a physical, low-risk battling squad.

In the end, the abandonment of jogo bonito was more than risky: it was disastrous. Dunga, and Brazil’s, negation of their stereotypically skillfull and swashbuckling game was a practical and tactical error too large to overcome against a rather fortunate Dutch side.