Josimar José Évora Dias, known as Vozinha, arrived at the London Palladium on Monday night to claim a place among the goalkeepers of the year. The 40-year-old, born in Mindelo on the island of São Vicente in Cape Verde, has played for clubs in Angola, Moldova, Portugal, Cyprus, Slovakia and now Chile, and his nomination for the Yashin Trophy at the Ballon d’Or recognises a remarkable summer at the World Cup.
The nomination was not earned through his club form. He has made only scattered appearances with Chaves in Liga Portugal 2, and his arrival at Chilean giants Colo-Colo has so far been largely ceremonial. Instead, it reflects his standout performances at this summer’s World Cup, where he gave fans who feel overlooked a figure they could identify with, delivering two games of extraordinary goalkeeping.
Vozinha shut out eventual champions Spain in Cape Verde’s emotional opener, then pushed eventual finalists Argentina to the brink in the round of 32. In the days that followed, his Instagram following grew from 56,000 to 27.7 million, and fans around the world voted him the starting goalkeeper in FIFA’s Dream XI.
His nickname is the Portuguese word for “granny”, and he has become a symbol for anyone who refuses to accept that long-delayed hopes will never come true.
He still has ambitions of his own, although they are now more modest than his achievements.
A dash to London
On Sunday afternoon, he was expected to miss a league match to attend the Ballon d’Or, but he finally earned a start for Colo-Colo. He has struggled to win the number-one spot ahead of his teenage rival. He produced a fine display, making three spectacular saves as his side drew 1-1 with Palestino. The performance left the opposition players with their hands on their heads and gave his manager some difficult selection decisions.
He then rushed to the airport in Santiago to begin his journey to London. Wearing a white tracksuit, he walked through the terminal with a bodyguard who kept an arm around his waist, as though he had handcuffed a briefcase of diamonds to his wrist. Vozinha, whistling softly, waved at the occasional shout of encouragement from fellow travellers.
Club president Aníbal Mosa accompanied him as he flew first to Madrid, where he boarded a private jet for the final leg. He landed only six hours before the Ballon d’Or was due to begin. His standard tuxedo was waiting on a hanger at the back of the plane. He changed quickly and made his way through London’s clogged streets and the crowds at the Palladium.
French Montana had already opened the evening by rapping his hit “One Night” on top of a double-decker bus, with the line “All I need is one night”. Vozinha appeared to have accepted the same bargain. He stopped to sign more autographs than most, and he asked for photographs with Barcelona’s Lamine Yamal, a Ballon d’Or contender, and the veteran manager Fabio Capello. He behaved more like a fan than a colleague. As he made his way to his seat, he gave hundreds of cameras the expression that has endeared him to millions: wide-eyed and a little wet-eyed, savouring the moment while marvelling at it.
Fame and its costs
In a recent interview with The Observer, Vozinha said the burdens of his sudden fame have outweighed its benefits. “A lot of people want to be famous and have a public profile, but they only see the positive side of that reality,” he said. “To be honest, if I were offered the life I have today or the life I had before, I’d choose the one I had before.”
The contrast with his recent form is stark. In September, Cape Verde lost twice in AFCON qualifying. Vozinha made a major error in a 3-1 loss to Mali, and he failed to stop either of the two shots he faced in a 2-1 defeat to Rwanda. After his noisy arrival at Colo-Colo, he told reporters: “Despite playing in smaller leagues for clubs that weren’t exactly giants, deep down I always told myself I was a ‘big club’ player.”
Major clubs have not come knocking for a goalkeeper of his profile. The video tribute to the nominees at the Palladium cut away before his name was even shown. It was an unforgivable oversight, but his nomination is more likely to be a parting gift than a sign of greater things to come. That makes his summer in the United States and Canada all the more special.
Vítor Martins, his manager at Chaves, offered a telling assessment when Vozinha left Portugal, before his World Cup heroics against Spain and Argentina. Martins’ farewell now reads as prophetic. “He’s at a very specific moment in his career and living a unique moment in his life, one he perhaps thought impossible, about to play in a World Cup at 40 years old,” Martins said. “He was a perfect professional until the end.”
Moments of greatness
Every goalkeeper knows that some matches go their way on the smallest margins. Spain hit the bar against Cape Verde, a detail that is less often remembered, and they directed more chances at Vozinha than away from him. That game could easily have ended differently, with Vozinha emerging as a valiant figure who still lost.
That was how his World Cup story ended, after a thrilling extra time against Argentina in which he stopped Lionel Messi more than once. Monday night offered him one last brush with that level of achievement, and he knew it. He took a seat in the second row, far from the aisle, because he would not need to walk to the stage.
He knows he will never match the sustained brilliance of Harry Kane, the near-constant excellence of Kylian Mbappé, or the limitless future of Yamal. Looking around the room at the leading goalkeepers of the sport, including David Raya and Unai Simón, the likely winner of the Yashin Trophy, he understood that he would never share their riches, only some of their air.
He does, however, have a big heart. He knows what it feels like to be overlooked, and he now knows what it feels like to belong, even if only for a while. “The performance is a performance for everyone,” he said, through tears, after his heroics against Spain.
When the evening finally ended, Vozinha lingered in the aisle, as if unsure where to go next. He looked up at the Palladium’s chandeliers, wide-eyed and wet-eyed once more. He had travelled a long way to be in London, both in life and on the night, but for one evening he could count himself among the giants of the game, and the rest of us could count ourselves with him.
He was more than a perfect professional. He was the perfect stand-in for everyone who has loved the game without being loved back, waiting for the moment it decides to return that affection.