Who’s your hero? Batman? Einstein? Weinstein? Churchill? Primrose Hill? Gary Linneker? Gary Neville? Gary Glitter? Emiline Pankhurst? Bob Dylan? Bob Hope? Nelson Mandela? Lord Nelson? Donald Trump? Donald Duck? So many worthies to elevate to the very top of one’s personal list. Mine is Pele. No competition, no-one even close.

I was 10 in 1966, when England won the World Cup. Brazil were fab but I didn’t really notice them much. But by 1970, I was… errr… (plus 3, add one, take away 7, divide by…) 14 and I did take notice. Of the team which, to this day, was the absolute best ever. The heart and soul of which was Edson Arantes do Nascimento. Pele. Then 30 years old and at the total peak of… everything. You should just binge on all the Brazil matches from 1970 one day (and night, and another day) rather than wasting time with Peaky Blinders or Desperate Housewives. To learn the sheer majesty of the man. It wasn’t just the goals. Not even the amazing things he did which no-one else could or would or has ever done since. It was the poise. The balance. The sheer nonchalance of The Ultimate Footballer. As exemplified by his pass in the final that year to Carlos Alberto to score the best goal ever scored. And he was always smiling.

He was beyond ‘good’ and so far above ‘special’ that His name must be revered. And as he lays dying in a hospital in São Paulo, I’m with him in spirit.

But whilst he’s there, he’s got fuck all else to do but watch football. And last night, he’d have been proud of his legacy. Because I’m sure Brazil had great footballers before Pele and they’ve definitely had more than a few since. But he infused that nation’s football psyche with an enjoyment and joy which endures to this day. No Brazil team is ever ‘pragmatic’. They all play because they simply love to play. Ok, they showboat a bit, at times, no names. Although Neymar springs to mind. But they only do that because they’re so good and they’re enjoying themselves so much.

And how much would Pele appreciate Richarlison’s goal last night? A goal almost obscene with cheek, with guile, with style, with flow and precision. The fact that the scorer is a Spurs player is (almost) irrelevant here.

I want Brazil to win the World Cup. For Him. And for Me. And for football. Which, with the corruption and politics and all the shit surrounding it currently, has become a little too cynical. But not for Brazilians. Like me.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx