When football legend and the only three-time FIFA World Cup [1958, 1962, and 1970] player, and winner, Pelé stated he was feeling ‘better,’ after surgery for colon tumour, he also lost no time to quip — thanks to his archetypal humour — that he could not wait to get back to playing the beautiful game.
That Pelé burst onto the global stage at just age 17 with dazzling goals, including two in the final against hosts Sweden, as Brazil won the World Cup for the first time in 1958, was what dreams are made of, but seldom fulfilled. Yes, he’s known as just Pelé — the king of football in his own right. His real name: Edson Arantes do Nascimento. He was rated by most cognoscente, and also others, to be the greatest player of all time.
A supremely versatile footballer and an equally fabulous goal scorer, Pelé was amazingly skilled at dribbling and passing. He also possessed great defensive skills — for a striker. He started his football career in Santos, in 1956, aged 15. He played in his first international match within a year’s time. He stayed with Santos, the club that made him famous, for his entire career. That’s loyalty; a rarity, no less.
Pelé [October 23, 1940-December 29, 2022] showed a remarkably natural penchant for football. That he always remembered his humble beginnings, albeit success and riches followed him like a magnet wherever he went, speaks a language of its own. Humility personified. His love for the world’s greatest sport made him a colossus; yet, his profound interest and empathy for Brazil’s underprivileged children always remained firm.
Pelé could do anything with the ball. There was no flaw in his art, grammar, or syntax, also method and skillset. He could dissect the field with clinical accuracy. His easy movements, juxtaposed with the sublime grace and nonchalance of a ballet dancer, provided him the wherewithal to nestle the ball between his feet to eternity.
What also made him have the football ‘cake’ and ‘eat’ it too was his complete unpredictability — he could spring a surprise when none existed and vice versa. He had two, or more, shots for the ball. The more he forged ahead with his sterling proficiency, the more he dazzled — to give his opponents a weighty inferiority complex. He could get the best of goals, out of nowhere, and ‘quell’ the best of his opponent’s moves and passes. Music to Pelé was the thud of the ball attaining its ultimate destiny, or nirvana — deep inside the goal-post. Until his farewell game in 1977, Pelé appeared in 1,363 first-class matches, including 111 internationals. His tally: 1,279 goals.
For an average-sized guy, Pelé was blessed with transcendent speed, great balance, tremendous visualisation, the ability to control the ball splendidly and the facility to shoot powerfully and accurately with either foot, or head. He was also a brilliant reader of the game. He could decipher its every nuance in his mind. He once admitted that his skills were god-given — including the ‘banana kick.’ God could not, of course, play football. Hence, He gave what He wanted to Pelé. Pelé’s presence brought magic to the game—something that no other player could dream, or think of.
When Pelé started playing the sport in the US, in 1975, football was just a spectator sport. With a fabulous US$4.75 million three-year contract, Pelé shrugged his shoulders and came out of retirement and transformed the game. He gave American soccer a new high — a new-found respectability. Attendance began to soar in every stadium he played. Result? Many international stars began to get into the circuit, pronto.
Long after Pelé hung his boots, his name continued to be a sort of ‘religion’ in Brazil. He was seen as god, not just king. He’s called O’Rei — a magician who was also, at times, ruthlessly kicked by opposing defenders in a bid to stalling his imperious dribbling skills and foot movement. This did not affect him — Pelé never ever nursed a grouse.
Pelé was, in more than one sense, close to perfection. There’s also more to him than football — his sense of fair play and candour, his separation of his professional vocation from his private life and his great spirit of humanism. To highlight a brace of examples: a used football jersey of Pelé was sold at a charity auction for a whopping US$224,600. The shirt, worn by Pelé during his country’s 4-1 trouncing of Italy in the Final of the 1970 World Cup, more than tripled its pre-sale guesstimate. Besides, his name was imprinted on a playing ground in Mexico City — ‘King Pelé’ Stadium.
Pelé was Brazil’s best ambassador, also its best advertisement. He was equally strong-willed in social causes too. He promoted products such as clothes, vitamins, batteries, and real estate. He never ever permitted his name to be used in advertisements for alcohol, cigarettes and cigars. What was unique was Pelé, the richest Brazilian of his generation, invested over 70 per cent of his fortune in his own country, not outside. He maintained a clean image, despite a flutter, or two, of the heart — for a lovely maiden — and, other ‘earthly’ faults.
Pelé’s canvas is timeless — he strode in majestic style, endowed as he was with supreme fitness, a great ball-sense and unparalleled talent. He was only born to play football — nothing else. His moral strength came from within — replete as it was with his great love and understanding of the cosmos. Pelé never allowed his emotion to rule his mind. Only a select few can hold such a balance — in evolving from a rags-to-riches fairy-tale — including the manifestation of self-evolution. Pelé was a classic, one-of-a-kind paradigm. The noblest of all sportsmen, he also gave a new dimension for the higher purposes of one’s existence on planet earth.
How did Pelé reflect on all the glory, and adulation, that surrounded him? Simple. With quiet dignity and amazing grace, also simplicity. In his own words: “One thing is certain. I will never stop thinking of god for every wonderful thing He has granted me. If a man would try to make more daily contact with god, the world would be a less aggressive place to live in.”
It sums up Pelé — a quintessential genius, the greatest-ever of his type to play football and an equally great human being. There won’t be another like him — for yesterday, today, or tomorrow.
— First published in The Hindu
