We were all subjects of Pelé

With the reader’s permission, I will use the first person singular. He was just a young man and had been a chronicler for a month. I couldn’t assume I was a journalist, just boast of enthusiasm. It was December 5, 1973. At night they played Huracán and Santos. Practicing exquisite football by the hand of César Luis Menotti, the Globe had been Argentine champion. He gave real exhibitions and the idea was to make him a tribute match playing against Santos de Pelewhich symbolized the most exalted of the I play nice. I arrived early that afternoon at the newspaper (Crónica, my first love) and the head of Sports gave me a Huracán card: “Go cover the game.” To me…!

Santos did not raffle off his prestige and did not take pity on Huracán, despite the fact that he was celebrating: he beat him 4 to 0. But no one was upset, the fans were still sweet on the title. The fourth goal was the work of Pelé, a delicatessen: they launched a corner, there was a rejection and oh king, who was on the edge of the box, classily touched it above the entire human tide and sent it into an angle. Then she wanted fate that, among many other tournaments, she attended ten World Cups; Having seen Pelé on the pitch is my eleventh World Cup. In the end I went to the locker room to take notes. It was all so simple…! The doors were open and The Athlete of the Century giving statements half-naked, still dripping from the shower, covered only by a towel, obediently lending himself to the journalistic request. There were no guards or press officers trying to stop us from approaching him and asking questions. And Edson was not in a hurry or annoying, always with his healthy smile and his courtesy to everyone. He already spoke clearly in Spanish. It was the marvel of football from before: simplicity and romanticism reigned. Soccer players were corporeal, verifiable, those of today seem like holograms, untouchable, ethereal, millionaires, unattainable. Pelé was a genius, but never a diva.

At the age of eleven I had seen the World Cup matches in England on TV. There Pelé did not shine, instead I was dazzled by Bobby Charlton, a left-handed man who slid like roller skates through the field and did everything well, everything useful. Also for Beckenbauer, imperial defender, if football had ranks he would be a quarterback. And for Eusebio, the first African panther that astonished the international public. But in 1970 we had a double revenge: the World Cup came live thanks to the innovation of the satellite and Pelé played all six games because he was champion. Having seen it in real time is a winning ticket.

Until the mid-’60s, Alfredo Di Stéfano was the footballer that Europe admired, for his quality, his goals, his versatility and his fearsome and winning character. However, Pelé was the first global athlete, his light radiated on a planetary scale. Soccer had not yet been universalized (this was the work of João Havelange, who introduced it to the farthest reaches of Africa, Asia and Oceania), but even the most exotic and non-soccerized countries were demanding its presence. Y oh king He brought his magic and his smile. He claimed the race from him, blond kings surrendered to him. He recounted it in “My legacy”, his autobiographical book: “During the 1958 World Cup, Swedish children used to touch my face to check if it was not painted, they had never seen anyone black; It didn’t bother me at all, that’s part of the boys’ innocence and purity.” He became an adjective; when someone was very good at something they said “It’s Pelé”. Or on the contrary, to reprove him: “Who does he think he is, Pelé…?”

The 10 on his back led to a widespread mistake: that he occupied the role of offensive midfielder; mistake, although he was not a 9 boxer like Romario or Gerd Müller, he played as a pure striker. He was surely the most complete footballer in history due to technique, class, temperament and objectivity. He never made an extra firulete, it was all to win. He had a foam chest, he sank it to tame the ball and put it to sleep. In the short touch, triangulating, he was sensational, he avoided the thickness of the area with surgical precision. His walls with Coutinho were anthological. With a respectable shot, better directed than powerful, his header was exceptional. The goal against Italy in the Mexico ’70 final is a prodigy: marvelous elevation, arching of the torso backwards to give strength to the kick and perfect, artistic impact, with power and direction. He turned his head into a hammer. Without the same ability or mastery of Maradona or Messi, he dazzled just the same.

He was tame if the markers showed loyalty, if they chose to hit they awakened the indomitable character of Edson Arantes. To bad, bad and average. Perhaps the serious injury to Dondinho, his father, hardened him the day he made his debut in the first team for Atlético Mineiro and they fractured him, ending his dream as a professional soccer player. Pele swore that what happened to his mother would not happen to him. He handsome to say enough, if something was missing as a player it was fear. We interviewed his compadre, Pepe (446 goals in the First Division). He told us: “Everyone wanted to soften up Santos. The only ones who responded were Pelé and Coutinho. They were brave. Pelé returned everything they gave him. And Coutinho would let you give one, two, three kicks… The third time he would hit you with everything”.

At that time he scored much less than today, but hit triple. And many sought to stop it at all costs. Antonio Rattin, captain of Boca and the Argentine National Team, had a duel with him, he always marked him. Once they were waiting for a corner and Pelé proposed a pact: “No ball, no.” Because he used to receive punches while the center was coming. From the front and with the ball he endured whatever came. Rattin was a man of codes and he complied: “I never hit him treasonously.”

If Brazil or Santos were losing, oh king he began to beat his chest, he claimed the ball, he felt capable of twisting any result. In those very tough fights with Peñarol for the Copa Libertadores, the aurinegro locker room had an intelligent slogan when they faced Pelé’s Santos: “Don’t touch the Negro; if he gets angry we are ready”.

Until his appearance, the Brazilian was a considerable football, although a step below the Argentine or the Uruguayan on the continental map, after Pelé he became the most winning in the world. Better than that, in the most admired. Like the very big ones, he never disappointed. “He never played badly, the day he didn’t shine he was the best of us”, Pepe returns.

He was my idol in adolescence. Later I had the honor of sharing several times with him. Very humble, pleasant, always exuding greatness. Already retired, they tried to stigmatize him as a friend of power to lower it, a human misery. His image is impeccable. His contribution to the popularity of football can never be properly appreciated. There is no need to cry, world sports must raise their glasses and toast to him, the eternal king.

—