Why is Brazil so loved in rugby?

When you think of rugby, Brazil doesn’t usually come to mind. Not like New Zealand, South Africa, or England. But if you’ve been watching international rugby over the last five years, you’ve probably noticed something changing. Brazil’s national team, the Brazilian Jaguars, is no longer just a footnote in the global game. They’re winning games, drawing crowds, and turning heads.

They’re not just showing up-they’re competing

In 2023, Brazil beat Chile 34-28 in the Sudamérica Rugby Championship final. It wasn’t just a win-it was their third consecutive title. That’s the same streak Chile had before Brazil broke through. And in 2024, they qualified for the World Rugby Sevens Series for the first time ever, playing against teams like Fiji, New Zealand, and South Africa in front of packed stadiums in Vancouver and Singapore.

Before 2020, Brazil hadn’t won a major international match in over a decade. Now, they’ve beaten Uruguay twice in the last three years. Their U20 side won the 2024 South American Championship by 42 points. This isn’t luck. It’s strategy.

Why now? The grassroots revolution

Brazil’s rugby growth didn’t start with coaches or funding. It started with kids on beaches.

In Rio, São Paulo, and Recife, street rugby became a thing. No pads. No official fields. Just a ball, a few friends, and a patch of sand or pavement. Schools started offering rugby as an alternative to soccer in neighborhoods where football clubs were too expensive or too crowded. By 2022, over 80,000 kids under 16 were playing rugby in Brazil-up from just 12,000 in 2018.

Local clubs like Clube de Rugby de São Paulo and Rugby Salvador began partnering with public schools. They didn’t need fancy gear. A pair of cleats, a mouthguard, and a willingness to get dirty were enough. The sport’s simplicity made it perfect for communities with limited resources.

Cultural fit: Passion meets pragmatism

Brazilian culture loves rhythm, movement, and expression. Rugby, especially sevens, matches that perfectly. The fast pace, the quick passes, the flashy breaks-it’s like samba with a ball.

Players like Thiago Santos, a 24-year-old fly-half from Belo Horizonte, became local heroes. He’s not tall. He’s not heavy. But he’s got vision. He can spot a gap before it opens. In the 2024 Sevens Series, he scored 17 tries in six tournaments. Fans started chanting his name in Portuguese: “Tigre do Rio!”

And unlike in countries where rugby is tied to class or elite schools, in Brazil, it’s for everyone. You don’t need to go to a private academy. You don’t need to be born into a rugby family. You just need to show up.

The rise of women’s rugby

While men’s rugby gets the headlines, Brazil’s women’s team, the Leõesas, might be even more impressive. In 2023, they finished second in the Pan American Women’s Sevens Championship, beating Canada and Argentina. In 2024, they qualified for the World Rugby Women’s Sevens Series.

Before 2020, there were fewer than 500 registered female rugby players in Brazil. Now, there are over 12,000. The national team has players who work as teachers, nurses, and street vendors during the week and train three times a week on weekends. Their coach, Maria Fernanda Costa, says they don’t have a budget for travel or nutrition plans. They train on public fields, sometimes under floodlights after dark.

And yet, they’ve got the highest tackle success rate in the Americas. Their scrum is the most consistent. Their defense? Tight. Relentless.

Why do fans love them?

It’s not just about winning. It’s about what they represent.

In a world where rugby is often seen as a sport for the privileged, Brazil’s team is the opposite. They’re scrappy. They’re loud. They play with joy. When they score, the whole stadium sings. When they lose, they hug each other like family.

At the 2024 Sevens Series in Hong Kong, a Brazilian fan showed up with a homemade flag made from a Brazilian flag and a rugby ball painted on it. He didn’t speak English. He didn’t know the rules. But he knew the name of every player on the team. He’d watched every match online. He’d learned the chants in English just to cheer them on.

That’s the magic. People don’t just watch Brazil play. They feel like they’re part of it.

What’s next?

Brazil isn’t trying to replace New Zealand. They’re not aiming to become the next All Blacks. They’re building something different: a rugby culture rooted in community, not corporate backing.

The Brazilian Rugby Federation now has over 300 registered clubs. Youth academies are popping up in cities like Manaus and Fortaleza. The government started a pilot program in 2024 to fund rugby in 50 public schools in the northeast, using it as a tool for social inclusion.

And the fans? They’re not waiting for permission. They’re organizing bus trips to away games. They’re streaming matches on YouTube with live commentary in Portuguese. They’re making TikTok videos of kids doing lineouts in the favelas.

Brazil didn’t become loved because they won trophies. They became loved because they made rugby feel alive again.

What makes Brazil’s rugby story unique?

Other countries built rugby from the top down-funding elite academies, signing pro players, buying stadiums. Brazil built it from the bottom up-kids on the street, teachers volunteering, mothers driving their kids to practice in beat-up cars.

They didn’t need a billionaire sponsor. They didn’t need a global TV deal. They just needed space to play.

And now, the world is watching.