Even a shark thinks Brazil will win

Imagine being a shark. You wake up. Life feels good. You have important shark business to attend to while musing on vivid shark thoughts. Apparently, you are “sharking” in every meaningful sense. Suddenly, a group of humans presents you with two cans. One is painted like the Brazilian flag, and the other is dyed in Moroccan colours. You check the yellow-green can to see if it contains your lunch, and in that split second, the journalists start jotting down.

That is exactly what happened at Rio de Janeiro's AquaRio aquarium. A female sandbar shark named Ritinha has captured public attention with her sports divination. For the FIFA World Cup 2026, she has picked Brazil as the winner in the opening match against Morocco. Thereby, becoming the first shark in history to start a football debate.

Marcelo Szpilman, the president and CEO of AquaRio aquarium, says this hunch is undoubtedly exciting people worldwide, and making them concerned about conserving sharks despite negative myths surrounding them.

But this was not the beginning of people forecasting sports with animals. Paul, a common octopus, merrily living his life with eight arms, rose to international stardom during UEFA Euro 2008 and the 2010 FIFA World Cup. He correctly estimated the winner in 12 out of 14 matches.

One can only guess how the football analysts felt after memorising every tactical system from Total Football to Gegenpressing, spending hours analysing matches, injury reports, and studying heat maps, yet losing the argument to a fish. Yes, that is exactly how unfair life can be.

Then the Parakeet, Mani, had a 71 per cent success rate in anticipations, and eventually, Taiyo, the otter, Yashoda, the elephant, and Mystic Marcus, the micro pig, all found themselves unwillingly employed by sports enthusiasts. At this point, I find myself wondering, why is my pet goldfish not even trying? Is it lacking proper nutrition? Who knows.

However, before you start envying these creatures for achieving overnight fame and fortune, and living peacefully without having to deal with inflation or a weekend-invading boss, hear me out. The ladder is absurdly fast in both ways, and nobody remembers Steve the cat, who confidently guessed six wrong results simultaneously, and was immediately demoted back to being a mere rat hunter.

But honestly, the true genius of animal predictions is that it somehow perfectly reflects our football fever. The game that convinces otherwise sensible people to occasionally scream game strategies at athletes who cannot hear them, and celebrate goals with enough passion to startle nearby wildlife, sways the same people to trust Ritinha, the shark, or Walter, the orangutan. Because in the end, it is the thrill that matters.