The goal mouth that can’t stop
Pele has become more of a salesman than a football god.
time Pele opens his mouth he tarnishes his legacy.
This week has been no different. Once, the Brazilian was routinely referred to as ‘‘the greatest player in the game’s history’’. The revisionism grows every year, as do the contenders for the title.
Lionel Messi is breaking records on an almost weekly basis in front of a global television audience. Diego Maradona’s legend grows with every misdemeanour. Among the younger, hipper element it is fashionable to wax lyrical about Garrincha, Brazil’s World Cup hero of 1958 and 1962 and talk down the man remembered for 1970.
Even recalling Mexico brings out the cynics. The most commonly screened highlights of Pele’s 1970 tournament are misses, not goals: the shot from the halfway line against Czechoslovakia; the exquisite dummy that left the Uruguay goalkeeper rooted to the spot before the forward rolled the ball wide of a post; the bullet header against England that Gordon Banks saved.
This week, Pele was up to his usual tricks, providing unstinting support for Sepp Blatter and downplaying Messi’s brilliance.
He is frequently rolled out by Fifa to provide some stardust at mundane events, like a down-atheel monarch providing tawdry glamour for a sinister dictator. He has become more of a salesman than a football god and will be remembered by an entire generation for his risible campaign against erectile dysfunction. Maradona, for all his faults, has a malign integrity about him. You could see him gobbling handfuls of Viagra but never imagine him selling it.
Somewhere over the years the essence of Pele’s genius has been diluted and downgraded. It was not always this way and among the men who played with and against him, Edson Arantes do Nascimento will always be hailed as the greatest.
Some years ago, I asked a player who spent more than two decades performing at the highest level in England, Netherlands and North America from the 1960s to the ’80s what mementos he had kept from his career. I expected shirts, medals and memorabilia, but there was just one item: a photo of the player alongside the Brazilian, signed ‘‘From Pele to my good friend’’.
‘‘That’s all you’ve kept,’’ I said, surprised. The player looked stunned. ‘‘All?’’ he replied in wide-eyed disbelief as if talking to a simpleton. He shook his head. Nothing in his long career gave him as much pride as that photograph with Pele.
Even so, there has always been a touch of the huckster about the 73-year-old. His claim to have scored more than 1200 times in his career stretched both the definition of competitive goals and credulity. His tendency to talk up players and teams depending on which country he is in at the time has left a trail of bizarre predictions and unrealistic praise around the globe.
Yet Pele’s position among the game’s greats should never be questioned. His finest performances came before there were TV cameras at every game, but even the relatively small amount of footage that exists shows a man of exceptional brilliance.
As a 17-year-old, he burst on to the World Cup scene with a fearless incandescence. His goal in the 1958 final against Sweden where he chested down a cross while turning a tight-marking centre half before flicking the ball over the head of a second defender and volleying into the net is one of the most breathtaking strikes in the game’s history.
By the time he played his last World Cup in 1970, he was a titan of the sport. In between Sweden and Mexico he was unlucky. He was injured in 1962 but Garrincha led Brazil to victory in Chile. Had Pele not been hacked out of the 1966 tournament, the years of hurt for England might be 84 and counting. His combination of power, pace, touch and awareness meant that he was unplayable when anywhere near his best.
That Pele is unbearable at his age should not detract from his achievements on the pitch. His position in football’s most elevated pantheon remains secure.
TIMES