Gigi Riva: The Roar of Thunder and the Poetry of Football

Luigi "Gigi" Riva was not just a footballer; he was a force of nature, a symbol of resilience, and a figure who transcended the boundaries of sport. His legacy, etched into the annals of Italian football, resonates as both a celebration of his immense talent and a testament to the enduring power of loyalty and humility.

A Legend Forged in Adversity

Born in Leggiuno, near Lake Maggiore, Riva's early life was steeped in hardship. The youngest of four children, he lost his father at the tender age of nine and his mother soon after. Sent to a Catholic boarding school and later thrust into factory work, Riva’s path to greatness was neither linear nor easy. Yet, in these formative years, his indomitable spirit began to take shape—a quality that would define his career and life.

Riva’s footballing journey began modestly with Laveno Mombello, where his prodigious talent became evident as he scored 63 goals in two seasons. From there, his rise was meteoric. A move to Legnano in the third division was followed by his transfer to Cagliari in 1963 for a then-significant fee of 37 million lire. It was in Sardinia, a land as rugged and resilient as Riva himself, that his legend was born.

The Sardinian Symphony

Under the stewardship of coach Manlio Scopigno, nicknamed "The Philosopher," Riva transformed Cagliari from a provincial team into a force capable of toppling the giants of Turin and Milan. His goals—powerful, precise, and often poetic—were the keys to unlocking the famously impenetrable catenaccio defenses of the era.

The 1969-70 season was the zenith of Riva’s club career. With his devastating left foot, he propelled Cagliari to their first and only Serie A title, a feat that remains a source of immense pride for Sardinia. His loyalty to the club, despite lucrative offers from powerhouses like Juventus, endeared him to the island’s people, who saw in him a reflection of their own defiance and pride.

This bond was evident at his funeral decades later, when 30,000 mourners—twice the capacity of Cagliari’s stadium—gathered to pay tribute to their hero. Flags, banners, and scarves in the club’s dark red and blue colors fluttered in the Sardinian breeze, a poignant reminder of the enduring connection between Riva and his adopted home.

A Thunderclap on the International Stage

Riva’s exploits were not confined to club football. He made his debut for Italy in 1965, becoming the first Cagliari player to earn an international cap. Over the next decade, he would redefine what it meant to be a striker, scoring 35 goals in 42 appearances—a record that still stands.

His crowning moment came in the 1968 European Championship final, where his goal against Yugoslavia helped secure Italy’s first major international title. Two years later, he was instrumental in Italy’s dramatic 4-3 extra-time victory over West Germany in the World Cup semi-final, a match often described as the "Game of the Century."

Yet, even legends are mortal. In the final against Brazil’s golden generation, led by Pelé, Riva and his teammates were humbled 4-1. It was a sobering reminder of football’s merciless nature, where even the brightest stars can be eclipsed.

The Roar of Thunder

Nicknamed Rombo di Tuono (Roar of Thunder) by journalist Gianni Brera, Riva was a striker of unparalleled versatility and power. His left foot was a weapon of destruction, capable of unleashing ferocious shots from any distance. But he was more than just a goalscorer.

Riva combined physical dominance with technical elegance. Standing just under six feet tall, his aerial prowess was as formidable as his finishing on the ground. He scored acrobatic bicycle kicks with the grace of a gymnast and the precision of a marksman. Despite his imposing physique, he possessed a delicate first touch and a flair for creativity that made him as much a playmaker as a finisher.

His ability to read the game, coupled with his relentless work ethic, made him a complete forward. Whether sprinting past defenders, volleying from impossible angles, or converting penalties with unerring accuracy, Riva epitomized the art of goal-scoring.

The Cost of Greatness

But greatness often comes at a price. Riva’s career was marred by injuries, the most devastating of which occurred in 1970 when an Austrian defender broke his leg during a European Championship qualifier. Although he returned to surpass Giuseppe Meazza’s record of international goals, the physical toll was evident.

A second leg injury in 1976, inflicted by an AC Milan defender, proved insurmountable. After several unsuccessful attempts at a comeback, Riva retired in 1978 at the age of 33. His departure marked the end of an era, but his influence on Italian football was far from over.

The Elder Statesman

From 1988 to 2013, Riva served as team manager for the Italian national team, becoming a mentor and symbol of continuity for generations of players. He was a chain-smoking, dignified presence on the sidelines, embodying the wisdom and gravitas of a man who had seen it all. His tenure culminated in Italy’s 2006 World Cup triumph, a fitting coda to a life dedicated to the game.

A Legacy Beyond Numbers

Riva’s achievements can be measured in goals, titles, and records, but his true legacy lies in the hearts of those who witnessed his artistry. As Pier Paolo Pasolini once said, “Riva plays poetic football. He is a realistic poet.”

Indeed, Riva’s story is a poem of resilience, loyalty, and brilliance—a testament to the enduring power of sport to inspire, unite, and elevate. He was not just a footballer; he was a symbol of hope for Sardinia, a hero for Italy, and a beacon for all who believe in the transformative power of passion and perseverance.

Gigi Riva was special. He was the roar of thunder that echoed through the ages.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Gerd Muller: Der Bomber

 

The penalty area was Gerd Müller’s kingdom. A space where others hesitated, he thrived. One step forward, one back, a quick turn, and suddenly, there it was: a few centimetres of separation, just enough for him to strike. Karl-Heinz Rummenigge once remarked, “The penalty area was Gerd’s domain. One step forward, one back, forward, back – and at some point, he had a few centimetres of space, which was enough for him. He could react like no other centre-forward in the world.”

Defining the Complete Striker

What makes a striker complete? The answer varies. Some may highlight Ronaldo El Fenómeno’s blistering pace and dribbling, Robert Lewandowski’s physical dominance and precision, or Luis Suárez’s creativity and relentless tenacity. To be complete, a striker needs pace, physicality, dribbling finesse, sharp instincts, and an unparalleled ability to score.

Yet, Gerd Müller defied conventional wisdom. He lacked the flair of Ronaldo or the elegance of Lewandowski. Instead, he relied on raw instinct, uncanny positioning, and an unyielding hunger for goals. David Winner, in *Brilliant Orange: The Neurotic Genius of Dutch Football*, aptly described him: “Müller was short, squat, awkward-looking, and not notably fast; he never fitted the conventional idea of a great footballer, but he had lethal acceleration over short distances, a remarkable aerial game, and uncanny goal-scoring instincts. His short legs gave him a low centre of gravity, enabling him to turn quickly and with perfect balance in spaces and at speeds that would cause other players to fall over.”

A Reluctant Genius

Müller’s reputation as a “lazy” player belied his brilliance. Franz Beckenbauer recalled, “What he did with us was basically an insult, we thought. Sometimes Katsche Schwarzenbeck and I would say we didn’t care today, today we’ll give him a good thrashing if necessary. But we still never caught him. He kept running alone towards the goal.”

Sepp Maier’s first impression of Müller was equally sceptical. “He was well-nourished,” Maier quipped. “The way he looked, I thought he wouldn’t last long with us.” Yet, Maier quickly revised his opinion after witnessing Müller’s agility and inscrutability as a striker.

Müller’s genius lay in his simplicity. Beckenbauer recounted, “He had that absolute desire to score. So much so, that in his eagerness to score he’d even take out his own teammates.” It wasn’t just about scoring; it was about creating certainty in moments of doubt. “Whenever we had concerns before a game, Gerd didn’t want to know any of it,” Beckenbauer said. “He’d always say, ‘Ah, stop it. We’ll beat them easily.’”

The Bomber of the Nation

Nicknamed “Bomber der Nation” (The Nation’s Bomber), Müller epitomized the archetypal Number 9. He was clinical from any position and with any part of the body. FIFA’s tribute to him highlighted his explosive acceleration over short distances and his unerring finishing ability: “There has arguably never been another player with such unerring finishing ability as Müller, before or since.”

Born in Nördlingen, Germany, Müller began his career at TSV 1861 Nördlingen before joining Bayern Munich in 1964. Bayern was then a modest club in the Regionalliga Süd, but with Müller, Franz Beckenbauer, and Sepp Maier, it would become a footballing powerhouse.

Müller’s achievements with Bayern Munich are staggering: four German Championships, four DFB-Pokals, three consecutive European Cups, and an Intercontinental Cup. Individually, he was the German top scorer seven times and the European top scorer twice. His Bundesliga record of 365 goals in 427 matches remains unmatched.

International Glory

For West Germany, Müller scored 68 goals in 62 appearances, a record only surpassed by Miroslav Klose in 2014. His 14 World Cup goals stood as a record until Ronaldo Nazário broke it in 2006.

At the 1970 World Cup in Mexico, Müller scored 10 goals, winning the Golden Boot. His performances included two hat-tricks in the group stage and a decisive volley in the quarterfinal against England. The semifinal against Italy, dubbed the “Match of the Century,” saw Müller score twice in a 4-3 defeat.

Four years later, Müller’s winning goal in the 1974 World Cup final secured West Germany’s triumph over Johan Cruyff’s Netherlands. In typical Müller fashion, the goal came from seemingly nothing: a quick turn and a shot on the stroke of halftime.

Legacy

Müller’s influence extended beyond his playing days. Beckenbauer asserted, “Football is very much about goals. You can play well, but without goals, you won’t win. Gerd Müller was quite simply the greatest guarantee of goals in the history of football.”

After retiring, Müller faced personal struggles but found solace in coaching at Bayern Munich. His legacy as the most important player in Bayern’s history remains intact. “Gerd is the origin,” Beckenbauer declared. “In my eyes, he’s the most important player in the history of FC Bayern.”

Müller passed away in 2021, but his legend endures. His story is a testament to the power of instinct, determination, and an unrelenting desire to score. In the pantheon of football greats, Gerd Müller stands alone, the ultimate poacher and the quintessential Bomber of the Nation.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Gérson: The Golden Left Foot Behind Brazil's Greatest Triumph

The Brazil team that triumphed in the 1970 World Cup is often hailed as one of the most exceptional assemblages of footballing talent ever seen on the international stage. It was a squad brimming with star power, each player capable of altering the course of a match with a moment of individual brilliance. Yet, it was not just the sum of these individual talents that made the team so remarkable; it was the seamless fusion of their abilities into a collective performance that transcended personal glory. Their play was not merely a display of technical mastery, but an exuberant reassertion of *jogo bonito*, a celebration of football that invited all who cherish the beautiful game to believe in its power once again.

At the heart of this team stood Pelé, the undisputed icon, often regarded as the first among equals in a group of extraordinary talents. Yet, alongside him, were other figures who left indelible marks on the tournament. Rivelino, with his cannonball shots, Tostão, whose elegance was matched by an almost brutal grace, and Jairzinho, whose star was on the rise, all contributed to the brilliance of the Seleção. But it was Carlos Alberto, the imperious captain, whose majestic fourth goal in the final against Italy became the defining moment of Brazil’s World Cup triumph, leading his team to glory and immortalizing their place in football history.

However, there was one player whose contribution, though often overshadowed by the more flamboyant stars, was indispensable to the team’s success. Gérson de Oliveira Nunes, known simply as Gérson, may not have garnered the same level of adulation as Pelé or Carlos Alberto, but his role was nothing short of pivotal. Often described as the brain of the team, Gérson was the linchpin around which the team’s fluid attacking play revolved. His vision and composure in midfield allowed him to dictate the tempo of the game, pulling the strings that made the rest of the team dance to the irresistible rhythm of their collective brilliance. While his name may not be the first to come to mind when recalling the 1970 World Cup, Gérson’s influence on the pitch was profound, his quiet genius providing the foundation for Brazil’s most celebrated victory.

The Start of a Football Journey

 Born in the winter of 1941, Gérson de Oliveira Nunes—later to be immortalized by the moniker Canhotinha de Ouro (Golden Left Foot)—seemed destined by the hand of fate to become a footballer. His lineage was steeped in the sport; both his father and uncle were professional players, with his father also being a close confidant of the legendary Zizinho. This pedigree, rich in footballing heritage, would be honoured by Gérson with a career that transcended the ordinary.

As a teenager, Gérson’s rise to prominence was swift and inevitable. He joined Flamengo, where his innate talent was quickly apparent. His ability to transition the ball from defence to attack with a single, incisive pass, to control the tempo of the game with unhurried precision, and to orchestrate play with an almost prophetic sense of timing, set him apart. These gifts—rarely seen even at the highest level—marked him as a player of exceptional vision and intelligence. His capacity to read the game, to probe and prompt with an intuitive understanding of when and how to execute each option, suggested a maturity far beyond his years.

At this early juncture in his career, Gérson’s talent drew inevitable comparisons to Didi, the linchpin of the Brazilian national team at the time. It was the highest of praises and one that placed Gérson in the company of Brazil’s finest. Although he lacked the blistering speed that often defined great players, his footballing intellect embodied the adage that the first five yards of a player’s pace reside in the mind. In this, Gérson was the epitome of cerebral football, his awareness and anticipation allowing him to outmanoeuvre opponents without the need for rapid acceleration.

Such mastery of the game, however, requires not only talent but the self-assurance to recognize one’s own potential and the audacity to execute it on the grandest stage. Gérson possessed this self-belief in abundance. It was a characteristic that would define not only his playing days but also his post-football career. His confidence in his abilities, coupled with a refusal to accept anything less than the highest level of competition, would shape the trajectory of his professional life.

Less than a year after making his debut for Flamengo, Gérson’s prodigious talents were recognized on a broader stage when he was selected for the Brazilian team that contested the 1959 Pan-American Games. The following year, he represented Brazil at the Rome Olympics, where he scored four goals, although Brazil’s campaign ended at the group stage. By this point, it was evident to both club and national team managers that Gérson was not merely a promising young player, but a rare and exceptional talent in the making. His development was a story of inevitable progression, a gem polished through experience and destined for greatness.

The Flamengo Days

 Back at Flamengo’s Ilha do Urubu stadium in Rio, the club’s Paraguayan manager, Fleitas Solich, entrusted Gérson with the role of the team’s primary creative force. This decision was mirrored by national coach Aymoré Moreira, who called up the young playmaker to the Brazilian squad that would defend their World Cup title in Chile—an honour that had been sealed by Pelé’s iconic performances in Sweden four years earlier. However, Gérson’s dreams of contributing to Brazil’s bid for a second consecutive triumph were shattered by a knee injury. As Pelé, Garrincha, and the rest of the Seleção lifted the trophy once more, Gérson was left on the sidelines, a cruel reminder that injury would often thwart his career at pivotal moments.

In his four years with Flamengo, Gérson played over 150 league matches, scoring an impressive 80 goals—a remarkable tally for a player primarily tasked with orchestrating play from midfield. Despite this success and the adoration of the fans, Gérson’s relentless desire to improve led him to leave the club in 1963, seeking new challenges that would test his talents further.

One such challenge came the previous year when Flamengo faced Botafogo in the final of the Rio Championship. It was a high-stakes match, an opportunity for the young midfielder to showcase his abilities on a grand stage. Yet, in a tactical move that would test his versatility, Gérson’s manager instructed him to abandon his attacking instincts and focus instead on a man-marking job against Botafogo’s star player, the legendary Garrincha. It was a defensive assignment that contrasted sharply with Gérson’s usual role as the creative heartbeat of his team.

This tactical shift was reminiscent of the approach taken by Helmut Schön during the 1970 World Cup, when he tasked Franz Beckenbauer with man-marking England’s Bobby Charlton in the quarter-finals. However, there was a key difference: Beckenbauer was a seasoned international, already in his second World Cup, and his ability to adapt to such a role was honed through years of experience. In contrast, Gérson was a young player still learning the nuances of top-level football, and the task of neutralizing Garrincha—one of the most elusive and unpredictable players of all time—was a far greater challenge. Whereas Beckenbauer’s defensive duties allowed him to eventually unshackle himself and influence the game once Charlton was substituted, Gérson’s inexperience made his task far more daunting. The weight of the responsibility, coupled with the complexity of facing a player of Garrincha’s calibre, underscored the vast gap between theory and execution for a young talent still in the process of defining his career.

Signing for Botafogo

 The task of man-marking Garrincha was, in fact, a challenge beyond even the world’s most accomplished defenders, a reality underscored in two World Cups. It came as no great surprise—perhaps only to Flamengo’s manager—that despite Gérson’s determined adherence to his tactical assignment, the job proved insurmountable for such a young and relatively inexperienced player. Botafogo triumphed 3-0, and Gérson’s influence on the match was minimal, his attempts to fulfil his defensive duties largely ineffectually.

For Gérson, this failure was frustrating but hardly unexpected. It marked a turning point in his relationship with Flamengo, leading him to reject a contract renewal the following year. The decision to leave the club and join his conquerors seemed almost inevitable. The old adage, “If you can’t beat them, join them,” may well have echoed in his mind as he made the move to Botafogo. There, he would play alongside Garrincha for the next few years, though the "Little Bird" would soon leave the nest to join Corinthians, leaving Gérson to continue his journey with the Fogão.

For any young Brazilian footballer, a move to Botafogo was a coveted opportunity. At the time, the club boasted one of the most illustrious squads in the country. Alongside Garrincha, Gérson would join a roster that included Didi—whose style had often been compared to Gérson’s own—Nílton Santos, and Mário Zagallo, each of whom added their own creative spark to the team’s brilliance. To play alongside such luminaries was a rare privilege, and Gérson flourished in the company of these footballing giants. His move to Botafogo marked the beginning of a highly successful chapter in his career. The club won the Rio-São Paulo Championship in both 1966 and 1967, and in 1967 and 1968, they also claimed the Rio Championship. The pinnacle of this period came in 1968, when Botafogo secured their first national title, lifting the Brazilian Cup after defeating Fortaleza in the final. In this fertile environment, Gérson’s talent blossomed, and he became an integral part of a team that would go down in history as one of Brazil’s finest.

Genesis of a World Champion

The 1966 World Cup proved to be a cruel chapter in Gérson’s career, a tournament that did little to enhance his reputation despite his undeniable talent. Brazil, having won two consecutive titles, travelled to England with high hopes of completing a historic hat-trick. Yet, the tournament unfolded as a nightmare. Brazil’s campaign was marred by a brutal physicality that bordered on barbaric, a treatment that could be likened to the malevolent image of breaking a butterfly upon a wheel, as Alexander Pope once wrote. While it’s true that Gérson’s performances were underwhelming, one could hardly blame him given the circumstances. The tournament, a cruel and violent ordeal, left its mark on the entire team, and Gérson would take four years to put matters right.

In 1969, Gérson’s time with Botafogo came to an end, having achieved considerable success. Over nearly 250 league appearances, he scored close to a century of goals—an impressive tally for a player whose primary role was as a playmaker. Yet, in a squad brimming with attacking talent, his goal-scoring potential might have been even greater had he been the focal point of the attack. Seeking new challenges, Gérson moved to São Paulo in 1969, a decision that would mark the beginning of a fresh chapter in his illustrious career. However, just as he had in the past, injury once again cast a shadow over his prospects for the 1970 World Cup, threatening to derail his third attempt at the ultimate prize.

Despite these setbacks, Gérson was selected for Brazil’s opening match against Czechoslovakia. However, just past the hour mark, with Brazil leading 3-1, Gérson was forced to leave the field due to injury, missing the final two group-stage matches against England and Romania. Brazil managed to secure victories in both, including a tense 1-0 win over England, but the absence of their cerebral midfielder was felt. When Gérson returned for the quarter-final against Peru, Brazil’s fortunes seemed to shift. With him back in the fold, the Seleção regained their rhythm, dispatching Peru 4-2 before cruising to a 3-1 victory over Uruguay in the semi-finals.

The final against Italy, however, would test Brazil’s mettle in ways they hadn’t anticipated. After Pelé’s early header put Brazil ahead, it seemed as though the match would follow the expected script, with the Azzurri fading under the weight of their exhaustion after a gruelling 4-3 semi-final victory over West Germany. But when Roberto Boninsegna capitalized on a defensive lapse to equalize, Brazil’s confidence faltered. The equalizer punctured their momentum, and Italy, reinvigorated by the unexpected turn of events, gained belief.

It is often said that the best team in a tournament does not always win the World Cup—just ask the Hungarian team of 1954, who were defeated by West Germany in the final despite having trounced them 8-3 in the group stages. Brazil needed a catalyst to reignite their game, a player capable of lifting the team’s spirits and reasserting control. Gérson, the orchestrator of Brazil’s midfield, was that player. As the match wore on, Brazil regained their composure and dominance, and it was Gérson who, just past the hour mark, struck the decisive blow. His goal restored Brazil’s lead and propelled them towards their third World Cup triumph. While much of the attention was rightly focused on Pelé and Carlos Alberto, it was Gérson who had steered the ship through turbulent waters, and his emotional reaction at the final whistle, as he was swept up in the euphoria of Brazil’s greatest achievement, was a poignant reminder of his central role in their victory.

After 75 league appearances for São Paulo, Gérson made his final move, returning to his boyhood club, Fluminense. His time there, however, was brief and less illustrious, as injuries and the toll of age began to diminish his influence on the field. Over two years, he made 57 league appearances and scored just five goals—far from the prolific numbers he had once posted. Gérson’s career, which had spanned 533 league games across four clubs, came to an end in 1974, with almost 200 goals to his name. On the international stage, he earned 85 caps for Brazil, winning 61 of those matches and scoring 19 goals. But none of those goals were as significant as the one he scored in the 1970 World Cup final, a strike that restored Brazil’s lead and ultimately secured their victory. His final appearance for the Seleção came in July 1972, a fitting conclusion to his international career, as Brazil triumphed 1-0 over Portugal in what was another hard-fought victory.

A Gem in The Centre of Park

 Although Gérson was primarily deployed as a holding midfielder, his role in the 1970 World Cup-winning Brazilian team transcended the conventional expectations of the position. As Jonathan Wilson astutely observed in a 2013 article for The Guardian, Gérson was an early and pioneering example of a more creative interpretation of the holding midfielder role—one focused not merely on regaining possession, but on controlling the game through ball retention and precise passing. His approach to the position was a harmonious blend of tactical intelligence, technical mastery, and an almost instinctive understanding of the flow of the game.

In this capacity, Gérson was the cerebral force behind Brazil’s triumph, often described as the "brain" of the team. His ability to dictate the tempo of play from midfield, to calm the game when necessary and accelerate it when the moment demanded, marked him as a player of exceptional vision and composure. His passing, renowned for its accuracy and elegance, allowed him to orchestrate play from deep positions, setting the rhythm for his teammates and ensuring that the ball was always moving with purpose. Gérson’s capacity to switch from defence to attack with a single, incisive long ball—often delivered with a precision that seemed almost preordained—was one of the defining features of his game. His vision allowed him to spot runs and make passes that would launch his team forward with devastating effect, a hallmark of Brazil's fluid, attacking style.

Gérson’s technical gifts were matched by his tactical acumen. He possessed an exceptional positional sense, always appearing in the right place at the right time, whether to intercept an opposing pass or to dictate the next phase of play. His deep understanding of the game allowed him to remain composed under pressure, and his decisions were invariably calculated to benefit the team as a whole. Yet, despite his role as a facilitator, he was no stranger to taking matters into his own hands when required. His powerful left foot, which could strike the ball with precision and force, earned him the nickname *Canhotinha de Ouro* (Golden Left Foot), a fitting tribute to one of the most formidable weapons in his arsenal.

Regarded as one of the finest passers in football history, Gérson’s influence extended far beyond the statistics of goals and assists. His legacy lies in his ability to shape the game, to turn fleeting moments into opportunities for his team, and to play with a calmness and intelligence that belied the intensity of the competition. In a team filled with stars, Gérson’s brilliance was often understated, but his importance to Brazil’s success in 1970 cannot be overstated. He was, quite simply, the engine that drove one of the greatest teams ever assembled, and his contributions to the beautiful game continue to resonate with those who understand the artistry of midfield play.

The After Years – A Bold Critic

 Even after his retirement, Gérson remained a prominent figure in Brazilian football, though not always for the most positive reasons. In 1976, he found himself at the centre of controversy when he appeared in a commercial for Vila Rica cigarettes. The ad, which featured Gérson declaring, “I like to take advantage of everything, right? You too take advantage!” was interpreted by many as a tacit endorsement of the morally dubious "Jeitinho Brasileiro"—the cultural tendency to circumvent laws and social norms to achieve personal gain. Whether by design or sheer misjudgment, the phrase resonated as an endorsement of corruption and bribery, a sentiment that Gérson would later regret. He clarified that this was never his intention, and he expressed remorse for having participated in the commercial, acknowledging the unfortunate implications of his involvement.

Beyond the commercial, Gérson’s post-retirement years were marked by a series of public spats, including a notable falling-out with Pelé. When Pelé released his list of the 125 Greatest Footballers of All Time, Gérson was notably absent. This omission, particularly given his instrumental role in Brazil's 1970 World Cup victory, rankled Gérson’s strong sense of self-belief. He voiced his displeasure with characteristic candour, publicly criticizing the list, which he felt failed to acknowledge the greatness of himself and several of his 1970 teammates. In a memorable protest, Gérson visited a local radio station, where he dramatically tore up a piece of paper symbolizing Pelé’s list. “I respect his opinion, but I don’t agree,” he declared, his frustration palpable. “Apart from Zidane, Platini, and Fontaine, I’m behind 11 Frenchmen? It’s a joke to hear this.”

Gérson’s outspokenness didn’t stop there. He also took aim at the new generation of Brazilian footballers, particularly Neymar. In a conversation with Fox Sports, Gérson expressed doubt that Neymar, despite his exceptional talent and astronomical transfer fees, would have earned a spot in Brazil’s 1970 World Cup squad. With the likes of Pelé, Jairzinho, Tostão, and Rivelino already established in the starting lineup, Gérson was adamant that Neymar would not have displaced any of them. “There wouldn’t be a space for Neymar,” he asserted, dismissing the possibility of the modern superstar fitting into the team, even as a substitute. He pointed to Caju, a player of immense talent who had struggled to secure a starting role in that illustrious squad, as an example of the competition Neymar would have faced. “I don’t even know if Neymar would have a place on the bench in that team,” Gérson remarked, reinforcing his belief that the current generation of players, despite their fame and success, did not measure up to the legendary figures of Brazil’s golden era.

In his later years, Gérson transitioned into a new role as a football commentator for Rio’s radio stations, lending his distinctive voice and insight to the games he once played. While he may no longer be on the pitch, his passion for the game remains evident as he provides a bridge between the action on the field and the fans who listen intently to his every word. Despite the emergence of players like Neymar, who commands global attention, there remains a deep nostalgia among many Brazilian football fans for the days when Canhotinha de Ouro donned the Canarinho shirt. In their eyes, Gérson’s golden left foot and cerebral approach to the game represent a standard of excellence that the modern generation may never quite reach.

Conclusion

 Gérson de Oliveira Nunes was undeniably a player of rare and exceptional talent, a once-in-a-generation figure whose career was marked by both extraordinary fortune and poignant misfortune. To have played alongside the constellation of stars at Botafogo, with the likes of Garrincha, Didi, and Nilton Santos, must have been a source of immense pride and joy. Yet, it was his role in Brazil’s national team, which triumphed in three World Cups over four tournaments, that truly elevated his legacy. Few footballers can claim to have been part of such a golden era, and for Gérson, the opportunity to display his remarkable talents on the world stage was the fulfilment of any footballer's dream.

However, the brilliance of Gérson’s career is tempered by a lingering question: in any other generation, would his extraordinary midfield talents have received the recognition they deserved? In an era where the dazzling brilliance of Pelé often cast a shadow over his contemporaries, one wonders whether Gérson’s contributions—so central to the success of Brazil’s 1970 World Cup-winning team—might have been more widely acknowledged. Would his cerebral style of play, marked by his precise passing, exceptional vision, and ability to dictate the tempo of the game, have garnered greater acclaim had he not been overshadowed by the presence of Pelé and other luminaries?

It is a question that remains speculative, but one that speaks to the complexities of footballing history. Perhaps, in a different context, Gérson's genius might have shone even more brightly, and he might have secured a place on Pelé’s infamous list of the greatest footballers—a place he undoubtedly earned through his intellectual mastery of the game. Ultimately, Gérson was the brain behind one of the most extraordinary teams in football history, and his contribution to Brazil’s success is a legacy that should not be diminished, even if the full recognition of his greatness remains a matter of what might have been.

Thank You

Faisal Caesar 

Pele and the 1970 World Cup: The Genius Beyond Goals

The World Cup is more than a tournament; it is a stage where legends are forged, a crucible where the beautiful game reaches its zenith. Every four years, strikers from around the globe gather to showcase their craft, seeking immortality through moments of brilliance. For many, it is the pinnacle of their careers, an unparalleled opportunity to etch their names into the annals of footballing history. Each tournament produces a forward whose legacy becomes entwined with that competition, often through a single, transcendent goal.

From Garrincha’s thunderous strike against England in 1962 to Geoff Hurst’s desperate piledriver in the dying moments of the 1966 final, these moments transcend time. In 1974, Gerd Müller’s predatory instincts broke Dutch hearts, while Mario Kempes’s flowing run through the Netherlands defence in 1978 remains iconic. Paolo Rossi’s hat trick against Brazil in 1982, Diego Maradona’s audacious brilliance in 1986, and Roberto Baggio’s artistry in 1990 all serve as touchstones of footballing memory. These players are forever linked to the tournaments that defined them, their goals lingering in the collective consciousness.

Yet, amid this pantheon of striking excellence, the 1970 World Cup in Mexico stands apart. It was the first tournament broadcast in colour, capturing the shimmering heat haze and the electric vibrancy of the event. Ask any football enthusiast to conjure an image of that World Cup, and the answer will almost invariably be Brazil—the team that redefined the sport with their artistry and flair. Within that team, one name towers above all: Pelé.

The Genius of Pele

Pelé’s greatness transcends statistics, though his numbers are staggering. With 501 goals in 493 appearances for Santos and 77 goals in 92 international matches, his consistency and prolificacy remain unmatched. He averaged nearly a goal per game over an 18-year career, a feat that defies the passage of time. Critics may argue about the relative strength of the Brazilian league during his era, but his performances on the global stage, particularly in four World Cups, leave no room for doubt.

Yet, Pelé’s legend is not merely built on goals. It is the audacity, creativity, and context of his actions that elevate him. In 1970, Pelé’s genius shone not just in his scoring but in moments that defied convention—moments that encapsulated the beauty and unpredictability of football. Paradoxically, it is often his "misses" that are most celebrated, a testament to his ability to mesmerize even when he failed to convert.

Moments of Audacity: Pelé in 1970

Brazil’s campaign began against a strong Czechoslovakia side. Early in the match, Pelé, unmarked in front of an open goal, uncharacteristically missed, sending the ball over the bar. It was an unremarkable error, yet what followed was extraordinary. Spotting the Czech goalkeeper, Ivo Viktor, off his line, Pelé attempted a lob from the halfway line—a moment of sheer audacity that narrowly missed. The attempt, though unsuccessful, became a defining image of the tournament, illustrating Pelé’s vision and daring. It was a precursor to countless imitations, each echoing his genius.

The second group match against reigning champions England provided another iconic moment. Pelé’s downward header struck with precision and power, seemed destined for the net. Yet Gordon Banks, in what would later be immortalized as “the greatest save of all time,” miraculously scooped the ball over the bar. The save was so extraordinary that it overshadowed the brilliance of the header itself, cementing both players in footballing lore.

Pelé’s encounter with England also produced one of the most enduring images in football history: his embrace with Bobby Moore at the final whistle. The photograph captures more than mutual respect; it is a poignant reminder of the purity of competition, a moment of humanity amid the intensity of the World Cup.

The Almost Goal: Genius in Defeat

The semifinal against Uruguay brought another moment of brilliance. With Brazil leading 2-1, Pelé received a through ball and found himself one-on-one with goalkeeper Ladislao Mazurkiewicz. Instead of taking the conventional route of dribbling past, Pelé executed an outrageous dummy, allowing the ball to roll past the onrushing keeper. He then circled back to retrieve it, only to send his shot agonizingly wide. The move, breathtaking in its audacity, is remembered as one of the greatest "almost goals" in history—a testament to Pelé’s imagination and flair.

The Final and the No-Look Pass

The final against Italy was the crowning moment of Brazil’s campaign. Pelé opened the scoring with a towering header, a goal of clinical precision. Yet, his most memorable contribution came in the build-up to Brazil’s fourth goal. Receiving the ball just outside the box, Pelé executed a no-look pass to the onrushing Carlos Alberto, who unleashed a thunderous strike into the net. The goal, a culmination of teamwork and individual brilliance, epitomized Brazil’s philosophy of o jogo bonito—the beautiful game.

The Legacy of 1970

The Brazil team of 1970 is often hailed as the greatest in history, and Pelé was its beating heart. His four goals were crucial, but his impact went beyond the scoresheet. Pelé’s performances in 1970 captured the essence of football as an art form, blending skill, creativity, and audacity. His actions on the pitch—whether successful or not—transcended the moment, becoming part of the sport’s mythology.

Pele’s legacy is not just that of a great goalscorer but of a player who redefined what was possible on the football field. He played with a sense of joy and freedom that resonated far beyond the confines of the sport. In 1970, he was not merely a player; he was the embodiment of football’s greatest ideals, a symbol of its enduring beauty and power.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Mexico 70: The Immortal Goal by Carlos Alberto

The Brazil team of 1970 holds a unique place in the annals of football history, widely regarded as the greatest international team of all time. Under the stewardship of Mario Zagallo, a visionary manager, Brazil not only dazzled the world with their artistry but also redefined the tactical possibilities of the game. Zagallo inherited a squad brimming with individual brilliance—players like Gerson, Roberto Rivelino, Tostão, Jairzinho, and the inimitable Pelé, all of whom were accustomed to wearing the coveted number 10 jersey for their clubs. Yet, the challenge lay in transforming this constellation of stars into a cohesive, symphonic unit.

Zagallo's genius lay in his ability to adapt and innovate. With Pelé firmly established as Brazil’s number 10, the other creative talents had to be repositioned. Rivelino was tasked with operating on the left of midfield, Tostão took on the role of a roving false nine, and Jairzinho was stationed on the right, albeit with the freedom to roam and exploit spaces as they emerged. A proto-version of Total Football emerged—a concept that would later be synonymous with the Dutch in 1974. Brazil’s players interchanged positions fluidly, creating numerical superiority in one area while exploiting the vacated spaces in another. This tactical fluidity would culminate in one of football’s most iconic moments: Carlos Alberto’s goal in the final against Italy.

The Context of the Final

The 1970 World Cup final was not merely a football match but a clash of philosophies. Brazil, the epitome of flair and creativity, faced an Italian side steeped in defensive discipline and tactical rigidity. Italy, the reigning European champions, boasted a squad laden with talent, many of whom had tasted European Cup success. Their defensive system, catenaccio, relied on a libero or sweeper playing behind a line of man-marking defenders. This approach had made them notoriously difficult to break down.

However, the Italian team was fatigued in the finals. They had endured an arduous semi-final against West Germany, a gruelling 4-3 victory after extra time that had drained their physical reserves. The Mexican afternoon heat and high altitude further compounded their struggles. Yet, these factors alone do not diminish Brazil’s achievement. Italy’s reputation for defensive solidity made the 4-1 scoreline even more remarkable.

The Build-Up to Greatness

As the match approached its conclusion, Brazil led 3-1. In the 85th minute, with the Italians visibly exhausted, Brazil orchestrated a move that would become the gold standard for team goals. It began unassumingly, with Italian midfielder Juliano losing possession to Tostão near the Brazilian penalty area. Tostão, demonstrating the selflessness and work ethic that epitomized this team, tracked back from his forward position to dispossess Juliano.

Tostão played a simple pass to Brito, who was positioned near the edge of the Brazilian penalty area. From there, the symphony began. Brito passed to Clodoaldo, who initiated a series of quick exchanges with Pelé and Gérson. The ball returned to Clodoaldo, who then produced the first moment of magic.

With the composure of a maestro, Clodoaldo embarked on a dribble that dismantled the Italian midfield. Four defenders lunged and flailed, but the Brazilian glided past them with minimal fuss. There was no ostentation, no unnecessary flair—just a masterclass in balance, feints, and precision. By the time Clodoaldo released the ball to Rivelino on the left touchline, the Italian midfield was in tatters.

The Anatomy of a Masterpiece

Rivelino, known for his cannon-like left foot, played a sharp, vertical pass to Jairzinho, who had drifted from the right flank to the left. Jairzinho’s movement stretched the Italian defence, creating vast spaces in their backline. Despite the attentions of Giacinto Facchetti, one of Italy’s most celebrated defenders, Jairzinho maintained control. He cut inside onto his right foot and surged forward, leaving Facchetti trailing.

Before the covering defender could close him down, Jairzinho delivered a perfectly weighted pass to Pelé. Positioned in a withdrawn number 9 role, Pelé epitomized calm and vision. He received the ball, turned with languid grace, and paused momentarily—a heartbeat of genius in which he surveyed the unfolding scene.

From the right flank, Carlos Alberto surged forward like a freight train, exploiting the space vacated by Italy’s overcommitted defence. Pelé, with the precision of a chess grandmaster, rolled the ball into Alberto’s path. The pass was so impeccably timed that Alberto did not need to break stride. Striking the ball with unerring power and accuracy, he sent it hurtling past the Italian goalkeeper into the bottom corner of the net.

The Legacy of a Goal

Carlos Alberto later reflected on the goal in an interview with The Guardian:

"We’d worked on the move in training. Zagallo had said that if we dragged the Italians to the left wing, then I should get forward down the right. He would send his assistant coach to watch opposition matches and take photos with a telephoto lens. He’d come back and give us a slide show on his projector. But it worked. The Italians were obviously too good defensively not to track back, but we noticed that, probably because of the heat, they dropped off later in the game. This was the 85th minute and they were already beat, so I just took off."

Pelé’s awareness and Alberto’s precision epitomized the synchronicity of this team. As Alberto noted, “Pelé and I played so often together that he knew where I was – I didn’t need to shout. He saw me coming and rolled his pass in front of me so I didn’t have to break stride. And I caught it perfectly.”

A Goal for Eternity

Carlos Alberto’s goal was more than just the final flourish of a World Cup campaign; it was a microcosm of everything that made Brazil’s 1970 team extraordinary. It showcased their tactical ingenuity, technical brilliance, and collective harmony. In that one move, the world witnessed the culmination of years of preparation, the melding of individual genius into a greater whole, and the sheer joy of football played at its highest level.

To this day, the goal stands as a testament to the artistry of the game—a moment when football transcended sport and became poetry in motion.

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar 

Mexico 70: Viva Brazil

The sand of the desert is sodden red

Red with the wreck of a square that broke

The Gatling’s jammed and the Colonel’s dead,

And the regiment blind with dust and smoke.

The river of death has brimmed his banks,

And England’s far and honour a name;

But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks:

‘Play up! Play up! And play the game!

Vitai Lmapada, Henry Newbolt

 In the late nineteenth century, Brazil stood as a dynamic and burgeoning power in South America, rich in natural resources and filled with potential. This vast and vibrant land, famed for its music and joyful spirit, became a significant point of interest for foreign powers seeking to expand their influence. Among them, the British Raj, with its vast empire spanning the globe, made its mark in Brazil, bringing with it not only trade and commerce but also cultural and sporting practices that would leave an indelible impact on the nation's identity.

In 1894, Charles Miller, a British-born man with a Brazilian mother of English descent, returned to Brazil. Armed with a deep appreciation for football—having honed his skills at Banister Court public school in Southampton, England—he carried with him two round objects that would soon change the course of Brazilian history: a football and a set of Hampshire FA Rules. These items, initially mere curiosities, would become the seeds of a cultural revolution, as Miller sought to introduce the sport to a land where the people’s passions were firmly entrenched in their own unique traditions.

Miller's early life in England was marked by his immersion in the world of football and cricket. At Southampton, he played for and against both Corinthians and St. Mary's (the precursor to Southampton FC), experiences that laid the foundation for his later endeavours. His name appeared in the 1891 English Census, recorded as a boarder at Millbrook School, a testament to his connection to the English sporting world. Yet, despite his English upbringing, Miller’s heart was drawn to Brazil, where he would eventually work to cultivate a love for football among the Brazilian people.

However, not everyone shared Miller’s vision. Graciliano Ramos, a prominent Brazilian intellectual, famously remarked that football would never take root in Brazil. He argued that the sport was an alien custom, one that did not fit the national character. “Football will not catch on here,” Ramos declared. “It is like borrowing clothes that do not fit. For a foreign custom to establish itself in another country, it must be in harmony with the people’s way of life, and we already have the corn straw ball game.” In essence, Ramos believed that Brazil’s cultural identity was too deeply rooted in its own traditions for football to gain a foothold.

Despite these doubts, Miller persevered. He was not just a passive observer of the game but an active participant in shaping its future in Brazil. His efforts culminated in the establishment of the São Paulo Athletic Club (SPAC) football team and the formation of the Liga Paulista, the first official football league in Brazil. These milestones marked the beginning of a new era, one in which football would become deeply intertwined with Brazil’s cultural fabric.

Miller’s role in the development of Brazilian football cannot be overstated. He was not merely a foreigner introducing an imported sport; he was a visionary who recognized the universal appeal of football, a game that transcended borders and united people across the globe. In his hands, football became more than just a pastime—it became a symbol of joy, unity, and national pride. Miller's influence helped ensure that the sport remained a source of harmony and celebration for the Brazilian people, a reflection of the nation’s zest for life.

Today, the Brazilian national football team, the Selecao, pays tribute to Miller’s pioneering spirit. His efforts laid the foundation for Brazil’s unparalleled success in the world of football, where the sport is not only a source of national pride but also a vital part of the country’s cultural identity. Charles Miller, the father of Brazilian football, remains an enduring symbol of the transformative power of sport, a testament to how a foreign custom, once thought to be incompatible with Brazil’s way of life, became an integral part of the nation’s soul.

A Tragedy to Inspire A Generation

In the early days of football’s expansion beyond Europe, Brazil found itself trailing behind the dominant powers of South America, namely Uruguay and Argentina. These two nations had established themselves as the titans of the continent, capable of challenging the European heavyweights—Italy, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Poland, Austria, Russia, and England. The sport, once a mere pastime, had evolved into an obsession, not just in Europe but across North and South America, Asia, and Africa. As football grew in stature, it began to shift from an informal activity to a professional pursuit, with the Olympic Games incorporating the sport to determine the world’s finest team.

Amid this burgeoning popularity, Jules Rimet, observing the unifying power of football, took the monumental step of establishing FIFA and launching the World Cup in 1930. Uruguay, with its rich footballing history, won the honour of hosting the first-ever tournament, which would go on to become known as "The Greatest Show on Earth." In the final, Uruguay faced Argentina in a fiercely contested match, ultimately emerging victorious. For Brazil, however, the tournament was a mere footnote in the history of the event. It was not until four years later, in Italy, that Brazil began to make its mark on the world stage, though it was still not considered a serious contender.

In 1938, the Brazilian national team, led by the brilliant Leonidas da Silva, captured the imagination of football fans across the globe. While Italy and Austria were the favourites to win, Brazil’s charismatic forward, Leonidas, whose skill and goal-scoring ability were unmatched, breathed new life into the team. The 1938 World Cup in France saw Brazil win the hearts of not just the French but the entire footballing world. Leonidas’ dazzling performances marked a turning point in Brazil’s footballing history, inspiring a generation of Brazilian players who would go on to redefine the sport.

By the time the 1950 World Cup arrived, Brazil had become a footballing powerhouse, and the expectations surrounding the team were immense. Brazil’s squad, which included luminaries like Ademir, Zizinho, Jair, Baltazar, Chico, Maneca, and Danilo, was a veritable "golden generation." Their innovative 3-2-3-2 formation, a tactical marvel, overwhelmed top teams like Spain and Sweden in the final round of the tournament. However, the most anticipated match of the World Cup was yet to come: Brazil’s encounter with Uruguay. A draw would be enough for Brazil to secure the title, but in one of the most heartbreaking moments in football history, Uruguay’s Alcides Ghiggia scored the decisive goal, shattering Brazil’s dreams and leaving an indelible scar on the nation’s collective psyche.

The 1950 World Cup final, often regarded as the true World Cup final, was a moment of national tragedy for Brazil. The so-called "Maracanazo," named after the Maracanã stadium in Rio de Janeiro where the match took place, marked the end of an era for Brazilian football. The golden team of 1950, with its dazzling skill and promise, was relegated to the annals of history, overshadowed by the crushing defeat. The loss was not just a sporting failure but a deep emotional wound for a nation that had poured its hopes into its footballing heroes.

In São Paulo, a young boy named Edson Arantes do Nascimento, later known to the world as Pelé, listened to the match on the radio with his father. He watched his father’s tears as the final whistle blew and Brazil’s hopes were dashed. It was in that moment of sorrow that Pelé made a solemn promise to his father: he would one day bring the World Cup home to Brazil. The promise was not just a personal one but a national vow to restore Brazil’s footballing pride.

Eight years later, in the 1958 World Cup in Sweden, Pelé, at just 17 years old, fulfilled his promise. Alongside footballing legends like Garrincha, Didi, Bellini, Mario Zagallo, Vavá, Nilton Santos, Djalma Santos, and Zito, Pelé led Brazil to their first-ever World Cup victory. The team’s triumph was a watershed moment in football history, as Brazil’s style of play—fluid, artistic, and attacking—captivated the world. The Selecao, as the Brazilian national team was known, became synonymous with footballing excellence, and their presence at the World Cup became an eagerly anticipated spectacle. Brazil’s footballing dominance was not just a national pride but a global phenomenon, with the demand for their matches growing exponentially worldwide.

From 1958 to 1966, Brazil’s footballing dominance seemed unassailable. The team hardly lost a match, and their reputation as the greatest footballing nation on earth was solidified. However, the 1966 World Cup in England brought a cruel and unexpected end to Brazil’s reign. In what was widely regarded as a catastrophe, Brazil was eliminated in the group stage, with their hopes of a third consecutive World Cup title dashed. The defeat was a wake-up call, and many believed that Brazil’s golden era had come to a premature end.

Yet, true to their resilient spirit, Brazil would regroup. The 1966 disaster became a catalyst for change, sparking a new era of innovation and determination. Brazil’s ability to bounce back from adversity and continue its legacy as a footballing superpower was a testament to the country’s unyielding love for the game and its enduring place in the global footballing pantheon.

Saldanha Leaves, Zagallo takes over

The 1964 Brazilian coup d'état marked a pivotal moment in the nation's history, a turbulent series of events that unfolded from March 31 to April 1, resulting in the overthrow of President João Goulart by factions within the Brazilian Armed Forces. This political upheaval set in motion a period of intense instability that reverberated throughout the country. The opposition to the new regime faced dire consequences, with many political figures either exiled or silenced, and the nation as a whole grappling with the consequences of authoritarian rule. In the realm of football, this turbulence also had its impact. Brazil's footballing culture, once thriving and unifying, faced a period of stagnation, with the legendary players of the previous era—Garrincha, Bellini, Zito, and Djalma Santos—passing the zenith of their careers, leaving a void that needed to be filled by a new generation of talent.

However, the transition from one golden age to another was far from seamless. Brazil’s footballing establishment found itself at a crossroads, with the need to groom new players and develop a cohesive team that could maintain the country’s dominance on the world stage. In this climate of uncertainty, the Brazilian Football Confederation (CBF) appointed João Saldanha as the manager of the national team, tasking him with leading Brazil through the South American Qualifying rounds for the 1970 World Cup. It is widely believed that the appointment was influenced by President João Havelange’s desire to placate the media. By placing a journalist at the helm, the government hoped that the press, which had been critical of the national team’s performance, would be less inclined to attack the team if one of their own was in charge.

Under Saldanha’s leadership, Brazil’s football team took on a fearsome, almost beastly persona, and their performances on the field reflected that intensity. The Selecao, as they were known, went unbeaten during this period, earning the moniker "Saldanha’s Beast" for their dominant and aggressive style of play. Saldanha’s approach, however, was not without its controversies. His temperament was volatile, and his arrogance and combative nature quickly drew the ire of both the media and football critics. His clashes with the press became increasingly public, culminating in a particularly infamous confrontation with Dorival Yustrich, the coach of Flamengo. Saldanha, in a fit of rage, reportedly confronted Yustrich while brandishing a revolver, a dramatic incident that only served to deepen his reputation as a volatile and unpredictable figure.

The tensions between Saldanha and the political establishment further complicated his tenure. He became embroiled in a dispute with President Emílio Garrastazu Médici, particularly over the selection of players. Médici, who had his own political agenda, reportedly pressured Saldanha to include certain players in the squad, including striker Dario. Saldanha, known for his stubbornness and unwillingness to bow to political influence, famously retorted that he had his own suggestions for the President’s cabinet appointments. This defiance further alienated him from the powers that be, and his relationship with the CBF began to deteriorate. Saldanha’s criticisms of Pelé, whom he called “myopic,” only served to isolate him further from the team’s star player and the footballing establishment.

As the 1970 World Cup loomed, tensions reached a boiling point. The assistant manager, unable to tolerate Saldanha’s temperament any longer, resigned from his post, leaving the national team in a precarious situation. With just 75 days remaining before the tournament and Brazil drawn into what was widely regarded as the "Group of Death," the CBF had little choice but to sack Saldanha. The decision to part ways with the manager was a reflection of the broader instability that had plagued Brazilian football during this transitional period.

In the aftermath of Saldanha’s dismissal, the CBF turned to another former player to take the reins. Dino Sani, a member of the 1958 World Cup-winning team, was initially approached for the role but declined the offer. The CBF then considered Otto Gloria, who had coached Portugal to a fourth-place finish in the 1966 World Cup, but ultimately, the job went to Mario Zagallo. At just 38 years old, Zagallo was a relative newcomer to coaching, though he was already a legend in Brazilian football, having played in the 1958 and 1962 World Cup-winning teams as a left-winger.

Zagallo’s appointment marked the beginning of a new era for Brazilian football. Reflecting on that fateful day, Zagallo recounted the moment when the CBF officials arrived at his training session with Botafogo and informed him that he had been chosen to lead the Selecao. “It was everything I wanted,” Zagallo recalled to FIFA.com. “It was around 4 o’clock in the afternoon. They took me home, I grabbed some clothes, and off we went. It was what I wanted the most in my life.” The transition from Saldanha to Zagallo was almost poetic—when Saldanha had taken over the Selecao the previous year, Zagallo had taken over his radio show, and now, as Saldanha was ousted, Zagallo was there to take his place on the bench.

Zagallo’s appointment would prove to be a turning point in Brazil’s footballing fortunes. Under his leadership, Brazil would go on to win the 1970 World Cup in Mexico, a triumph that solidified their place as the dominant force in global football. The transition from Saldanha’s tempestuous reign to Zagallo’s calm and calculated stewardship epitomized the resilience of Brazilian football—a team that, despite political upheaval and internal strife, could always regroup and rise to the occasion.

Zagallo Starts Working

Upon taking charge of the Brazilian national team, Mario Zagallo was determined to restore the essence of Brazilian football—freedom, joy, and fluidity. His approach was one of liberation, encouraging his players to play as friends as if they were enjoying a casual game on the streets of São Paulo or Rio de Janeiro. This ethos of camaraderie and spontaneous play became the hallmark of the 1970 World Cup-winning side. However, Zagallo’s tactical genius also lay in his ability to make strategic changes that would enhance the team's cohesion and effectiveness on the field.

One of his first observations was the abundance of players in his squad who were accustomed to playing as the creative focal points of their respective club teams. These players, each a "number 10" in their own right, included the likes of Pelé, Gerson, Rivellino, Tostão, and Jairzinho. Under Saldanha, Rivellino had been excluded from the starting lineup, a decision that Zagallo was quick to rectify. He was determined to fit all of these creative forces into one cohesive unit, a decision that would ultimately define Brazil's success in Mexico.

Zagallo himself acknowledged the boldness of his vision, telling FIFA.com, “When I took over the Selecao, I had it in my head that’s what I was going to do. The changes I made were moving Piazza to play as a centre-back, bringing Clodoaldo into the team, and managing to field all those No.10s: Rivellino, Tostão, Pelé, Jairzinho, and Gerson. They said it would be impossible, in such a short time, to make them all gel, but we won the World Cup.” His tactical acumen was evident in the way he restructured the team, making the most of the players’ individual brilliance while ensuring they worked in harmony.

Zagallo’s defensive setup was designed to provide the freedom needed for his attacking players to flourish. He moved Wilson Piazza, traditionally a midfielder, into a central defensive role, allowing him to act as a ball-playing defender—an early precursor to the modern-day "sweeper" or "libero." Piazza, alongside the more traditional Brito, formed a solid backbone for the team, enabling the attack to flow without the burden of defensive concerns. Carlos Alberto, the right-back, was given the license to push forward, his attacking instincts unleashed with the support of Everaldo, a more reserved left-back, and the sturdy presence of Brito and Piazza.

In midfield, Zagallo opted for a more dynamic configuration. Clodoaldo was deployed as a ball-winning central midfielder, not a destructive enforcer like Zito or Dunga, but rather a player who could break up opposition attacks and quickly transition to offensive play. Alongside him, Gerson was given the role of a "Regista," a deep-lying playmaker who could orchestrate the tempo of the game. Gerson’s exceptional vision and passing ability allowed him to pull the strings from the centre of the park, a role that had previously been filled by Didi in the 1958 and 1962 World Cup-winning teams. His left foot was a thing of beauty, capable of threading intricate passes or launching powerful shots from a distance.

On the left wing, Rivellino, though playing slightly out of position, provided a unique solution to a defensive weakness on that flank. His narrow positioning and disciplined defensive work allowed him to contribute to both the attack and the defence, closing the gap between midfield and defence. Rivellino’s left foot, though not as artistically inclined as Gerson’s, possessed a raw power capable of dismantling opposition defences. His "flip-flap" dribble became a signature move, a trick that left defenders in his wake and opened up space for his teammates.

Jairzinho, nicknamed "Furacão" (Hurricane), was a player whose explosive pace and acceleration made him a constant threat on the right wing. His positioning, at times almost as a second striker, allowed him to exploit space behind opposing defences. Though he was a creator at club level, Jairzinho’s primary role in Zagallo’s system was as a ferocious right-winger, tasked with linking up with Carlos Alberto and tormenting the opposition’s left flank.

Zagallo’s most daring tactical innovation was the deployment of Tostão as a "false number 9." While the concept of a false nine would later become synonymous with Pep Guardiola’s Barcelona and Spain, Zagallo’s use of this strategy in 1970 was groundbreaking. Tostão, a highly intelligent and adaptable player, would drop deep into midfield to receive the ball, creating space for his strike partner and pulling defenders out of position. His ability to link up play and create opportunities, combined with his eye for goal, made him a perfect fit for this role.

At the heart of it all, however, was Pelé. In Mexico, Pelé was not merely a goal-scoring forward or an inside-out winger as he had been in 1958. Zagallo allowed Pelé the freedom to drop deep into midfield, join the defence when necessary, and orchestrate the play alongside Gerson. Pelé’s movement was fluid, his interchanges with Tostão and Jairzinho were seamless, and his vision enabled him to both create and finish chances. He was, in every sense, the leader of the team, a player who could dictate the flow of the game and make the difference in crucial moments. In what would be his final World Cup, Pelé proved once again that he was the greatest of them all, leading Brazil to a third World Cup victory.

Despite the brilliance of Brazil’s outfield players, one question mark loomed over the team: the goalkeeper. Félix, often considered the weak link in the team, was not held in the same esteem as the outfield stars. Yet, in a squad brimming with talent and attacking firepower, Félix’s shortcomings were rendered almost irrelevant. The attacking prowess of the team, led by Pelé and his creative partners, ensured that Brazil’s defensive vulnerabilities were seldom exposed.

Zagallo’s 1970 team is often regarded as one of the greatest football teams in history, a side that combined individual brilliance with collective unity, and tactical innovation with the spirit of Brazilian football. They played with freedom, joy, and a sense of camaraderie that became synonymous with the beautiful game. In the end, Zagallo’s vision was realized, and Brazil’s third World Cup victory was a testament to the power of teamwork, creativity, and the indomitable spirit of Brazilian football.

The Formation

 The Brazilian national team’s tactical evolution in the 1960s and early 1970s was a fascinating study in adaptation and innovation. The foundation of Brazil’s success in the 1958 World Cup was built on the 4-2-4 formation, a system that balanced offensive dynamism with defensive solidity. This formation, which had been a hallmark of the team’s attacking prowess, would later undergo a significant shift under the guidance of Mario Zagallo, particularly when Pelé was injured during the 1970 World Cup. The injury forced Zagallo to adjust the team’s structure, moving from the fluid 4-2-4 to a more flexible 4-3-3 formation, which allowed for greater tactical fluidity and provided Pelé the freedom to operate in various roles across the pitch.

The shift from 4-2-4 to 4-3-3 was not a random decision but part of a broader evolution in Brazilian football that had been taking place for years. In the 1950s, Brazilian football thinkers such as Flávio Costa and Zezé Moreira were already contemplating the future of tactical systems. Costa, in particular, introduced what he called the "diagonal system" in an article published in O Cruzeiro, which he later argued was a precursor to the 4-2-4. Costa's vision of football emphasized the importance of balance between attack and defence. His mantra, "defend well so that you can attack even better," encapsulated his belief that a team must first be solid at the back to build the foundation for more potent attacking play. This was an idea rooted in the French maxim "reculer pour mieux sauter"—taking a step back to leap forward more effectively.

This emphasis on balance between defence and attack was not unique to Brazil. It was influenced by the Hungarian style of play, which had emerged in the early 1950s, particularly after Hungary’s triumph in the 1952 Olympic Games in Helsinki. The Hungarian "Mighty Magyars" were a team known for their fluidity, technical brilliance, and tactical innovation, and their influence on Brazilian football thinkers was evident. However, while the Hungarian approach was grounded in a more rigid tactical structure, the Brazilian vision was more fluid and improvisational, reflecting the cultural ethos of Brazilian football.

The 4-2-4 system, which had been a natural progression from the earlier WM formation, embodied this flexibility and creativity. It demanded a high level of technical skill and mental maturity from its players, as well as the ability to adapt to the flow of the game. The system saw the defenders lying flat at the back, with one central midfielder remaining static and the other moving dynamically to support the attack. The front four—comprising two wingers and two forwards—engaged in a fluid interchange of play, which allowed for constant movement and the creation of space in the opposition’s defensive line. This attacking setup was complemented by a defensive structure that allowed for a balance between solidity and creativity.

As the game evolved, so did the tactical demands of the formation. The 4-2-4 was not a rigid system but one that allowed for tactical flexibility. It could transform into a 4-3-3 when the team needed to solidify its midfield and control the tempo of the game, or into a 4-4-2 when a more traditional, balanced approach was required. The adaptability of the formation was key to Brazil’s success, as it allowed Zagallo to respond to the specific demands of each match, whether it required a more defensive posture or an all-out attacking approach.

One of the most notable features of the 4-2-4 system was its capacity for fluid transitions. As the game progressed, one of the centre-backs would often be given the freedom to push forward, acting as a ball-playing centre-half who could link up with the midfield and initiate attacks. This was a precursor to the modern "sweeper" or "libero" role, which would become more prominent in European football in the following decades. This movement of the centre-back into midfield created a more dynamic and unpredictable attacking force, as it allowed the team to overload the midfield and stretch the opposition’s defence.

In attack, the formation was equally innovative. Pelé, the team’s talisman, was often the focal point of Brazil’s offensive play, but the system allowed him to drop deep and link up with the midfield, creating space for his teammates. On the left, Rivellino played a key role in building the attack, often dropping deeper to collect the ball and initiate play from the midfield. On the right, Jairzinho, known for his explosive pace and direct running, would cut inside and attack the goal, while Tostão, playing as a more traditional centre-forward, acted as the spearhead of the attack. The interplay between these attacking players was fluid and creative, with constant movement and positional rotations that kept the opposition guessing.

The 4-2-4 system, while not widely used in modern football, was a product of its time. It reflected the increased pace and technical sophistication of the game in the 1960s and 1970s, as well as Brazil’s unique footballing philosophy, which valued creativity, flair, and freedom of expression. The system allowed for tactical flexibility and could be adapted to suit different situations, whether Brazil needed to defend a lead or chase a goal. It was a formation that embodied the spirit of Brazilian football—unpredictable, exciting, and always focused on attacking play.

Ultimately, the 4-2-4 system was a key part of Brazil’s World Cup triumph in 1970, a victory that showcased the team’s technical brilliance, tactical innovation, and the harmonious interplay between its individual stars. While the system evolved over time, its legacy remains a testament to the ingenuity of Brazilian football and its ability to adapt to the changing demands of the game.

The Mexican Adventure

When Brazil arrived in Mexico for the 1970 World Cup, the atmosphere surrounding the team was far from one of optimism. At home, political unrest and the oppressive atmosphere of the military regime had cast a long shadow over the nation’s hopes for a third title. Rivellino, one of Brazil’s key players, admitted in a candid reflection: “We honestly never imagined that.” The team's recent disappointing performance in 1966, compounded by the tough group they had been drawn into—featuring defending champions England, and formidable European sides like Czechoslovakia and Romania—fueled skepticism about Brazil’s chances. Even with the presence of Pelé and other world-class players, there was uncertainty about whether the team could truly gel into a cohesive unit. “Did we have a team?” Rivellino recalled, expressing the doubt that hung over Brazil’s prospects.

The draw had placed Brazil in a daunting position, and the expectations from fans and critics were minimal. Few gave them a chance against the European heavyweights in their group. But when Brazil took to the field in Guadalajara, the Selecao defied the pessimism. Their opening match against Czechoslovakia saw them fall behind early, but Rivellino’s equalizer brought them back into the game. Soon, Pelé and Jairzinho ensured that the Czechs were overwhelmed, and Brazil emerged with a convincing 4-1 victory—a result that no one had anticipated. It was a crucial moment that set the tone for the tournament and marked the beginning of Brazil’s surge toward the title.

Then came the much-anticipated clash between Brazil and England. The match was more than just a game—it was a battle of footballing philosophies, a clash between Brazil’s flair and England’s structured, disciplined approach. On a sweltering afternoon, Brazil and England produced a classic encounter that would be studied for years by coaches and analysts. In the end, Brazil triumphed 1-0, and the team’s confidence soared. Rivellino recalled the significance of the victory: “The first match against Czechoslovakia was very important. It calmed us down. That’s why I say that one of the most important goals of my career was the first against them. Before we knew it, we were winning 4-1. It gave us lots of confidence.” The match against England, however, was a different beast. Rivellino described it as “the most difficult game of the finals for us,” acknowledging the strength of the English team. But what made Brazil special, he said, was their ability to improve with each game, culminating in a team that could have beaten any opponent, even an all-star team.

Zagallo, reflecting on the tournament’s challenges, singled out the match against Uruguay as the toughest. Brazil had gone 1-0 down, and the tension was palpable. The coach recalled thinking about making a tactical change, moving Rivellino into central midfield and bringing on Paulo César Caju. But as if on cue, Clodoaldo’s equalizer just before halftime spared the team from a potentially disastrous situation. Zagallo, ever the perfectionist, was furious at the team’s performance up until that point. “I went mad at the whole team,” he said, emphasizing that they were not playing to their potential. It was a moment of frustration that, paradoxically, helped galvanize the team for the challenges ahead.

Brazil’s journey continued with narrow victories over Romania and Peru, but it was their semifinal clash against Uruguay that would go down in history. The match was a microcosm of Brazil’s attacking brilliance, with Jairzinho’s iconic goal—a lightning-fast 11-second counter-attack from the edge of his own half—becoming one of the most memorable moments of the tournament. The speed and precision of the move, culminating in a powerful finish, was a testament to Brazil’s ability to strike with devastating efficiency.

The final at Azteca Stadium was the culmination of Brazil’s journey, a match that would forever define the legacy of the 1970 World Cup. Despite the presence of a formidable Italian defence, Brazil’s attacking brilliance overwhelmed them. The crowd, overwhelmingly supportive of the Selecao, created an electric atmosphere that felt like a home game for Brazil. The chants of “Brazil! Brazil!” rang through the stadium, a testament to the team’s popularity and the excitement surrounding their play.

In the 17th minute, Pelé gave Brazil the lead with a header that showcased the precision of their training. “We used to work on that one in training,” Pelé explained, reflecting on the move that had been rehearsed countless times. “Not the whole move, obviously, but definitely the positioning.” The goal came from a well-executed throw-in, with Pelé pulling away from his marker and finding space in the box to score. But Italy responded with a mistake from Clodoaldo, allowing Bonensegna to equalize. However, Brazil’s response was swift and decisive. Gerson’s powerful shot put Brazil back in the lead, and Pelé assisted Jairzinho for the third goal, cementing the latter’s place in history as the first player to score in every match of a World Cup.

Then came the most iconic moment of all—Carlos Alberto’s thunderous strike to seal Brazil’s 4-1 victory. In an interview with FourFourTwo, Carlos Alberto recalled the buildup to the goal: “I noticed there could be a chance seconds after we stopped Italy and started that counter.” The move had been carefully orchestrated, with Zagallo having instructed the team to exploit Italy’s left flank. As Clodoaldo dribbled past four Italian players with dazzling footwork, the Brazilian attackers, including Pelé, Tostão, and Jairzinho, pulled their markers to the left, creating space on the right. Carlos Alberto surged forward, anticipating the moment when Jairzinho would cut the ball back to him. The result was a perfect strike, with the ball bouncing just before he hit it, allowing him to unleash a shot that would go down in history as one of the greatest goals ever scored in a World Cup final.

The goal was the culmination of a brilliant move involving four players in just four seconds. Clodoaldo’s dazzling dribbling, combined with the precise positioning of the attacking players, demonstrated Brazil’s technical superiority and tactical intelligence. It was a goal that encapsulated the essence of Brazilian football—flair, creativity, and teamwork at its finest. For Carlos Alberto, it was a moment he would cherish forever, a goal that defined his career and sealed Brazil’s place in footballing history.

Conclusion:

Brazil’s triumph in the 1970 World Cup was not just a victory; it was the culmination of a footballing revolution that would forever alter the course of the sport. With their third World Cup title, Brazil secured the Jules Rimet Trophy permanently, a fitting reward for a team whose blend of artistry, technique, and joy on the field had captivated the world. Pelé, the undisputed star of the tournament, was rightfully hailed as the best player in the World Cup, but the true brilliance of Brazil’s success lay not just in the individual brilliance of their players, but in the harmonious collective effort that defined their play.

As the final whistle blew, the Azteca Stadium erupted into a frenzy of celebration. The Brazilian fans, overcome with emotion, rushed onto the pitch, tearing the shirts off the players’ backs as cherished mementoes of a historic achievement. The fervour was so intense that it led to a stampede-like situation, with Rivellino, one of Brazil’s key players, suffering from hypoxia and requiring medical attention. This moment of madness was a testament to the unparalleled adoration and excitement that Brazil’s footballing prowess had stirred. It was a spectacle never before witnessed—an unrestrained outpouring of passion for a team that had seamlessly blended the scientific method with the free-flowing beauty of art, technique with joy, and music with every move they made.

This was a team that, throughout the tournament, found strength not only in their collective talent but in their unity of spirit. They prayed together, not just for victory, but for the safety and well-being of each player. Their prayers were answered as Brazil’s stars were spared from injury, allowing them to unleash their full potential and etch their names into footballing folklore. For Pelé, that unforgettable afternoon in Azteca was a testament to the fact that Brazil’s greatness was greater than the sum of its parts. It was a team effort in every sense, with players selflessly working for one another, and the collective spirit propelling them to greatness.

One of the most striking aspects of Brazil’s World Cup campaign was the unselfishness displayed in their attacking play. Some of their most memorable goals were the result of intricate team movements, where individual brilliance gave way to collective creativity. A perfect example of this was Jairzinho’s goal against England, where Tostão, despite being in a prime position to shoot, chose instead to pass to his teammate, demonstrating a rare selflessness that epitomized the spirit of the team. These moments of unselfishness, of players prioritizing the success of the team over personal glory, were emblematic of Brazil’s approach to football—a game of beauty, harmony, and mutual respect.

Brazil’s attacking prowess was reflected in their remarkable goal tally of 19, the second-highest total by a World Cup-winning team, trailing only West Germany’s 25 goals in 1954. Pelé, with his four goals and six assists, was directly involved in over half of Brazil’s goals, a remarkable achievement that underscored his central role in the team’s success. His ability to both score and create opportunities for others was unparalleled, and his six assists remain the most by any player in a single World Cup edition. No player has matched this feat since, with Robert Gadocha, Pierre Littbarski, Diego Maradona, and Thomas Hassler all registering five assists, but none were able to surpass Pelé’s total.

When Carlos Alberto lifted the World Cup, it was a moment of profound significance, not just for Brazil, but for the history of football itself. In that moment, many reflected on the painful lessons of 1966, when Brazil’s failure on the world stage had been a bitter disappointment. Yet, it was that very defeat that had ignited the fire within Brazil’s footballing soul, propelling them to rise from the ashes and deliver a performance that would go down as the greatest in World Cup history. The Brazil team of 1970, with its blend of artistry, intelligence, and technical mastery, was a footballing utopia—a team that transcended the boundaries of the game and became the standard by which all others would be measured.

As the world celebrated Brazil’s triumph, one could not help but think of Charles Miller, the man whose vision and passion had introduced football to Brazil. On that afternoon at Azteca, he would have been filled with pride, knowing that the beautiful game he had brought to Brazil had reached its zenith. The 1970 World Cup team was not just a symbol of national pride; it was a testament to the enduring legacy of Brazil’s love affair with football—a legacy that continues to inspire and captivate the world to this day.

Viva Brazil!

Thank You 

Faisal Caesar