By whatever means the Dutch think they can knock Brazil out of the World Cup, getting physical would not be a good idea. This is a big Brazilian team -- the tallest, strongest and most physical in memory. Its defenders will be taller and clearly bigger man to man than their Dutch counterparts in Friday's quarterfinal game in Port Elizabeth. And if Mark van Bommel has notions of roughing up Kaka the way he did little Leo Messi in the Champions League last year, he might consider two things: the referees in this World Cup have been consistently hard on that kind of play, and Kaka is one of eight Brazilian starters (and 13 on the 23-man roster) who are 6 feet or taller. Indeed, Kaka has already been forced to miss a game during what might euphemistically be termed getting his retaliation in first. A man of silky skills, Kaka has added steel, as anyone playing under coach Carlos Dunga must. Dunga was tough as a player. As a coach, he is unequivocal: Stand up and fight for the right to play or he will select someone who will. Brazil's muscle has been growing for more than 40 years. Some might ascribe this to Dunga, 46, but he is a mere disciple -- an extreme one perhaps -- of a toughening-up process that dates to 1966. It was then that Pele, the greatest player of them all, was battered out of the World Cup in England. First the Bulgarians kicked him, then the Portuguese. The Brazilians never forgot that in the Portugal game it was an Englishreferee, George McCabe, who allowed the rough play that hobbled Pele and led to Brazil's being eliminated in the group stage. Long before Dunga was a player, Brazil dispatched trainers and coaches to study physical preparation at the German sports institute in Leipzig. The Beautiful Game that fans know and love -- and hope for from Brazil from time to time -- gives way to emulating Europeans, sacrificing flair for method. Dunga was the anchor of perhaps the most structured Brazilian team to be world champion, in 1994. He watched Brazil win the trophy again in 2002 but lose in the quarterfinals in Germany four years later. That was when he came in as coach. His work is evident in the way Brazil performs now, a style that is so athletic that many former Brazilian players are Dunga's foremost critics. The former star Socrates has called the new Brazil 'an affront to our culture.' Socrates was a tall, thin midfielder who appeared to walk on stilts when he played in the 1980s. He was elegant and languid in his movements, but his type would never get near the Brazil of Dunga. It is not simply a question of height. The members of Dunga's team -- with the exception of recently repatriated wing Robinho and reserve defender Gilberto Melo -- play for clubs in the rugged leagues of Europe. Goalkeeper Julio Cesar, right back Maicon and central defender Lucio, the team's captain, helped Inter Milan win the Italian league, the Italian Cup and the Champions League in May. Cesar, playing at this World Cup in a back brace to protect a recent injury, is game-tested and among the few first-rate goalkeepers Brazil has produced. Boys in Brazil prefer to play offense. Even some defenders, like Lucio and Maicon, love nothing better than to stride out of their defensive positions and counterattack. Dunga does not deny them the right, provided they observe the safety-first ethic of his game plan. This, moreover, must be the first Brazil selecao, the national team, that strives to win matches on set plays like corner kicks rather than simply off the flow of the game. One imposing image from this week, something the Netherlands and any future opponent must fear, was Lucio, Luis Fabiano and Juan all going up for a corner kick against Chile. No Chilean had the height or the strength to jump with them, and Juan, with the most prodigious leap, hammered the ball into the net with his head. It was Dunga's kind of play: forceful and effective. Having muscular specimens on defense is commonplace these days, but Fabiano is a forward. His size, over 6-1, does not impinge on his dexterity, as he demonstrated by scoring in the same game. Fabiano has a symbiotic understanding with Kaka, and after the latter's deft pass, Fabiano powered his way through the goalkeeper's challenge, stayed on his feet and scored. That is what attracts Dunga to Fabiano: the strength of mind and body to play alone up front while the bulk of the team goes man to man to prevent the opposition from scoring. Brazil has scored eight goals and conceded only two in its four games. It has ground down opponents physically and broken them through either set-play force or stealth on the counterattack. The Netherlands, especially when Arjen Robben is on the ball or Wesley Sneijder is in shooting range, believes it can beat any team. But those two superb players are small in stature compared with the Brazilians, and it is difficult to argue that they are more talented. There lies the key to what Dunga is attempting. He is not picking lumbering giants who happen to play soccer. He has the whole of Brazil to choose from, millions who have played from childhood, and hundreds who would make any other national team. He obviously likes them big and tough, but when they break into the opposing third of the field, when Robinho takes wing, or Kaka spins a pass, or Fabiano goes hunting for a goal, it is still a pretty sight. In this World Cup, only the Danes and Nigerians were bigger, and they, lacking Brazil's touch, are gone. Only the Germans can stand toe to toe with Brazil on athleticism, and they are in the other half of the draw. Should Germany and Brazil meet, it would be in a repeat of the 2002 final in Tokyo, which Brazil won thanks to two goals from Ronaldo, in every sense a big man and a huge talent. A study of that World Cup by researchers at the University of Nis in Serbia showed that Brazil was the biggest team physically in the tournament. It averaged just under 6-0 per man; the Germans were about an inch shorter on average. Dunga's Brazilians are even taller than the 2002 team. Forty years after studying in Leipzig, Brazil could outmuscle, and perhaps outplay, any team in the world. Forty-four years after Europeans hacked down the 5-8 Pele, Brazil has players hardened in Europe and used to going stride for stride in its club system. Dunga prefers them that way, but the trend is not solely his. 