Like many men, I'm a compulsive compiler of mental lists - the 10 best albums of all time, the greatest female singers, the best gigs I've ever been to, my five favourite cities - and so on.
Frequently, the focus of my list-compiling is football. I'll often think about the strongest Rangers 11 made up only of players I've seen in the flesh, or the three best matches I've been to (for the record, they are the 2002 Champions League Final, Rangers' 3-1 win over Aberdeen to win the league in 1996 and a 4-0 Old Firm victory in either 2000 or 2001).
A game that I often play with friends, or with work colleagues on those days when time is passing slowly, is to name your ultimate, all-time, greatest football eleven, drawn from any player in the history of the game.
This seemingly innocuous pastime can often descend into bickering as people debate the relative merits of Peter Schmeichel and Andy Goram, or whether Ruud Gullit was a striker, midfielder, defender or all three.
But the biggest debate always centres around one question: who was The Greatest?
Generally, there are two belief systems in operation when it comes to this question: those who worship at the altar of Diego Maradona; and others who stand by Pelé as the most gifted individual ever to lace up his boots.
I'm a member of the former camp. Maradona is, quite simply, the most prodigiously gifted professional footballer I have ever seen (sadly, not in the flesh).
And there lies the root of the problem: Pelé's peak years occurred long before the blanket television coverage of football existed.
I was born a full decade after the Pelé-inspired Brazil team of 1970 conquered all before it to lift the World Cup. In truth, I was too young to appreciate Maradona's achievements at the 1986 competition, Hand of God and "The Greatest Goal Ever Scored" (TM all Scottish football fans) included.
But by 1990, I was an avid follower of The Beautiful Game (a phrase coined by Pelé himself), and watched as El Diego almost single-handedly carried a poor Argentina team all the way to the final, as he had done four years previously.
At the 1994 World Cup, Maradona was awesome. Every time he touched the ball, he looked menacing. His previously chubby frame seemed more muscular, and he dictated the play.
In truth, his increased vigour and physical bearing were due in no small part to the cocktail of drugs swimming around his body throughout the tournament. Admittedly, the physical aspects of his game had been pumped up by the artificial enhancers - but the dazzling ability he demonstrated at those finals before he was thrown out was God-given, and unparalleled by anyone I had seen before or have seen since.
And so, to the modern day. I figured that, with YouTube continuing to expand at a frightening rate, there had to be a Pelé montage floating about, so that I could at last see more than the shot he missed from the halfway line against Czechoslovakia and the header that Gordon Banks saved in the 1970 World Cup.
Sure enough, there are many Pelé videos on the worldwide interweb. I looked at a few, but this one seemed to do him most justice. The speed, the quickness of mind and the inventiveness are all on a par with those displayed by Maradona at his peak (fast forward to the goal about three minutes in to see Pelé with the ball at his feet). But what stands out from the video are the sheer power of his shots and the height he could jump to meet headers. And the number of brutal fouls he was subject to.
It should also be taken into account that the balls used in Pelé's day probably weighed twice what modern balls do, yet his shots still look cannonballs.
So, have I been converted to the Pelé camp?
In a word - no. Despite the three World Cup wins, the 1280 goals in 1363 games, helping to kick-start football in the USA and the constant ability to act as an ambassador for football, I can't move into the pro-Pelé camp.
Maybe it's the flawed genius theory - that Maradona's mean streak made him the player that we all secretly wanted to be, a wild and wayward figure who could be the world's best ever player one minute and the world's most truculent spoilt brat the next. Or maybe it's because of this goal.
5 comments:
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Maradonna had great talent but many flaws. He was no beautifulgamer. The Hand of God Goal marks him historically as a man who felt he needed to cheat in order to win. As you point out Pele scored a ton of goals and was on three World Cup winners but never felt he needed to resort to cheating to achieve even more. In fact, one could argue that if he hadn't been knocked out of the 66 WC by cheating Portugese defenders that would have been a fourth WC for Brazil (and none for England).
Jock - Gawd! you're just a wee boy! I'd like to add to the debate first of all by agreeing with Johnny.
Best player I've seen in the flesh? Without a doubt George Best closely followed by Denis Law and Jimmy Johnstone. When I lived in London I supported Spurs at the time Ossie Ardilles and Glenn Hoddle played for them. They weren't too bad either!
Johnny - I would argue that Maradona, despite his myriad faults, WAS a "Beautiful Gamer" - to see him run with the ball at his feet, or to watch him dictate a match, would outweigh the bad points. He's not alone in being a tainted genius - Cruyff, Cantona, Gascoigne, Zidane, Best - all of them had a dark side that could bring them, temporarily, down to the level of mere mortals.
Rab - The best player I've seen in the flesh was Zinedine Zidane at the Champions League Final in 2002. He was peerless that day, standing head and shoulders above even his star-studded Galactico colleagues. Others would include Figo, Raul, Brian Laudrup, Gascoigne, the young Patrick Kluivert and Lothar Matthaus.
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