Culturally, no nation's society likes to lose, especially at an event in which the national team is the strong favourite. In Brazil's case, an already proud fan following had reached a fever pitch of unrealistic expectation for the Seleção, and the dream came to a crashing halt in the semi-finals when Germany demolished the host team in a debacle that will be forever etched in the memories of those who watched it. A reeling society is now facing the cultural retribution of hosting an event that exposed the national squad's inadequacy at the global stage. Had Brazil won the World Cup, it's likely that many of the protests by dissenters in Brazil alike would have been glossed over amid the widespread celebration of the exorcism of the demons from the "Maracanazo", when Uruguay beat Brazil in the 1950 finals in Rio. It's safe to say, however, that for host nations, success is often a mere delaying of the inevitable fallout when the cost is weighed against the society's benefits, and citizens eventually realise that the long-term gain from hosting an event of this scale often doesn't add up, objectively.
Failure as a host nation, however, triggers a whole new dimension of vitriol. Heads roll, and political faux pas erode diplomacy, approval ratings and popularity. Ask the Brazilian manager and some of the players who failed to dazzle. It isn't always like this. Culturally, winning the World Cup either as a host nation or otherwise can unite even a diverse or feuding population, albeit temporarily. It's happened twice in the last 20 years that a victory has led to some level of unity in diversity. The best example is that of the French victory in 1998, at home. Les Bleus surprised many and united the country with the historic victory of a multi-cultural team led by Zinedine Zidane. Similarly, the Spanish team, during its dominant run leading up to the 2014 World Cup qualifiers, also united a feuding and simmering nation of Basques and Catalans by winning the sport's biggest and most significant prize.
For Germany, this victory is equally significant, being the first that the unified nation has won. Winning the World Cup redefines a society's pride and self-esteem. The cultural impact cannot be overstated either. The domestic leagues will thrive - and, in the case of Germany, this will just be building upon an already solid foundation. Germany is home to Adidas, the largest equipment manufacturer for football, which ironically just signed a record deal with Manchester United. A majority of the German players play in the Bundesliga, which, with the growing success of Bayern Munich and Borussia Dortmund, is now a viable alternative for star players traditionally lured towards the Barclays Premier League.
With the honour of hosting a FIFA World Cup comes a far greater and more binding obligation. The host nations have a target on their backs, and their intent and capability is questioned at every juncture. If this sounds similar to the fallout from the Delhi Commonwealth Games 2010, it's not a coincidence. Invariably, host nations face a fallout. This is the price the host nations pay. But there are valid reasons to host such tournaments as well; primary among those the chance for a host nation to change the entire sports map for their region, and to alter their cultural confidence and social habits in a manner unthinkable prior to hosting a tournament. The debate will continue long after the embattled Brazil World Cup fades away.