Josimar José Évora Dias, known as Vozinha, arrived at the London Palladium on Monday night just in time to claim his unlikely place among the goalkeepers of the year. The 40-year-old Cape Verdean earned a nomination for the Yashin Trophy at the Ballon d’Or ceremony, a recognition of his standout performances at this summer’s World Cup.
The honor did not come from his club form. Vozinha has made only scattered appearances for Chaves in Liga Portugal 2, and his arrival at Chilean giant Colo-Colo has so far been mostly ceremonial. He earned his place through two games in North America that made fans around the world see themselves in a player who had been overlooked for most of his career.
A World Cup Star Turn
Vozinha shut out eventual champions Spain in Cape Verde’s emotional opener. Later, in the round of 32, he pushed eventual finalists Argentina to the brink. In the days between and after those matches, his Instagram following grew from 56,000 to 27.7 million. Fans also voted him the starting goalkeeper in FIFA’s Dream XI.
His nickname, the Portuguese word for “granny,” made him a symbol for anyone who refuses to give up on long-deferred dreams.
Vozinha still has ambitions of his own, although they are now more modest than his achievements. On Sunday, he finally earned a league start for Colo-Colo, where he has struggled to win the starting job from his teenage rival. He produced three spectacular saves in a 1-1 draw with Palestino, leaving the visitors stunned and forcing his manager to rethink his options.
A Dash Across Two Continents
Vozinha then raced to the Santiago airport to begin his trip to London. Dressed in a white tracksuit, he walked through the terminal with a bodyguard who kept an arm around his waist, as though he were chained to a briefcase full of diamonds. Vozinha whistled softly and waved at fellow travelers who called out encouragement.
Club president Aníbal Mosa accompanied him on the journey. They flew first to Madrid, where they boarded a private jet for the final leg. They landed only six hours before the Ballon d’Or ceremony was set to begin.
On the plane, Vozinha’s standard tuxedo hung waiting for him. He changed quickly and navigated London’s congested streets and the crowds at the Palladium. Earlier in the evening, French Montana had opened the festivities by rapping his hit “One Night” atop a double-decker bus, and Vozinha seemed to embrace the same idea that one night could be enough.
Vozinha signed more autographs than most guests. He also asked for photos with Barcelona star and Ballon d’Or contender Lamine Yamal and veteran manager Fabio Capello. He behaved more like a fan than a fellow professional. Before taking his seat, he paused for hundreds of cameras and flashed the wide-eyed, teary-eyed expression that had won over millions of supporters.
Fame and Its Costs
In a recent interview with The Observer, Vozinha admitted that the burdens of sudden fame have outweighed its rewards. “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 fairy tale has not been smooth. In September, Cape Verde lost twice in AFCON qualifying. Vozinha made a major error in a 3-1 defeat to Mali, and he could not stop either of the two shots he faced in a 2-1 loss to Rwanda. His brief spell of heightened attention seemed to expose how fragile that elevated status could be.
After his arrival at Colo-Colo, Vozinha 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.”
A Moment Overlooked
Elite goalkeepers rarely escape the notice of major clubs, and Vozinha has not reached that level. The Palladium’s video tribute to the nominees cut away before it ever reached him. He had traveled a long way, only to miss hearing his name and the cheers that would have followed.
That oversight was a mistake, but Vozinha’s nomination still stands as a parting gift rather than a sign of bigger things to come. It makes his summer achievement even more remarkable.
His former Chaves manager, Vítor Martins, captured the moment well when Vozinha announced his departure from Portugal, before the World Cup heroics. Martins’ farewell proved prophetic and read like a eulogy. “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.”
Every goalkeeper knows that some matches tip in their favor almost by magic. Spain hit the bar against Cape Verde, a detail often forgotten, and they directed more chances at Vozinha than away from him. Vozinha ultimately ended up on the losing side, despite his heroics.
His World Cup story closed after a dramatic extra-time match against Argentina, in which he stopped Lionel Messi more than once.
The Long Walk to Belonging
Monday night offered Vozinha one last brush with that kind of greatness. He seemed to understand this. He took a seat in the second row, far from the aisle, because he knew he would not need to walk to the stage.
He will never match the sustained brilliance of Harry Kane, the nearly constant excellence of Kylian Mbappé, or the limitless future of Yamal. He looked across the room at the kings of his profession, including David Raya and Unai Simón, the predicted winner of the Yashin Trophy. He realized he would never share their riches, only some of their atmosphere.
Still, Vozinha carries something his more celebrated rivals may never experience. 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, sobbing, after his remarkable display against Spain.
When the evening ended, Vozinha lingered in the aisle, seemingly unsure where to go next. He looked up at the Palladium’s chandeliers, wide-eyed and wet-eyed once more. He had traveled a long way to reach London, but for one night he counted himself among the giants of the game, and he brought the rest of us along with him.
He was more than a perfect professional. He became the perfect stand-in for everyone who has loved the game without getting anything back, waiting for the moment it decides to love them in return.