Tribute to Pele

Pele 

(Edson Arantes do Nascimento 

23 October 1940 – 29 December 2022)

 

I never saw him play live, in person or on TV, but for a long time after I was introduced to football he was the standard by which all footballers were measured. I’m writing, of course, of The King – Pele. I’m not going to go through his history in this blog post. Pele’s life story is well documented and easily accessible.  I’m merely going to express what he meant to me, as he did to the majority of football-loving fans, young and old, around the world. 

 

When I first heard about Pele, he was already playing for the New York Cosmos, the star-studded marquee team of the former NASL (North American Soccer League). I did get to watch the Cosmos play live on a vacation to the United States in 1982. My brother and I went while my sister and parents went to see a Broadway or Off-Broadway play. I think they went to see The Fantasticks.Around the same time, the movie Escape to Victory (released in some outlets as Victory) came out. It stars Sylvester Stallone, Michael Caine, and a bunch of footballers (Ossie Ardilles, Russell Osman, John Wark, Sir Bobby Moore, to name a few) playing prisoners of war during World War II. The movie was about their exploits playing a match against the German team and planning their escape with the help of the French resistance. Pele played one of the POWs. I recall his character being from Trinidad. 

 

While the movie is obviously scripted and choreographed, it’s evident that Pele was artistry in motion. Watching news reel footage of his career in various stages, you can see how his levels of brilliance, creativity, grace, and beauty never waned. They just became more amazing as he got older and became the legend that he is. I recently saw a post on Facebook showing clips of Pele doing all the amazing things that today’s stars do. The clip was called something like ‘Pele did it first’ and, while I admire Cristiano Ronaldo, Lionel Messi, Kylian Mbappe, and others for what they’ve done in their careers and what they do on the pitch, for me, Pele will always be the best. The only player to have won the World Cup three times, he set the standard. He was the best. To use today’s parlance, Pele is the goat. To paraphrase Neymar, who tweeted after Pele’s passing, football was just a sport before Pele. Pele turned it into art and entertainment. Due to Pele’s magnificence, the number 10 shirt became something to covet and something to fear. If you were given the number 10 to wear, it meant you were different, special, and big things were expected of you. Pele is to football what Muhammad Ali is to boxing and Bruce Lee to martial arts. In my opinion, as a form of tribute, it would be fitting to acknowledge the impact Pele had on football if for the remainder of the current football season around the world all players wore black armbands and there were a moment of silence before every match. 

 

As I grew into football, as a fan (I support Arsenal and Hamburger SV), player (I played during my school days for Island School (Hong Kong) and in a local grass roots league organised by some of my schoolmates), and coach (Hanover Park HS Boys Junior Varsity, Passaic County Community College Men, Solomon Schechter Day School Boys and Girls Varsity), I learnt of other legendary players (such as Franz Beckenbauer, Eusebio, Johan Cruyff, The Charlton brothers, George Best) who elevated football. Eventually rising stars became the talk of the media, claiming Pele’s mantle as the ‘best ever.’ There were Zico and Diego Maradona, who I was fortunate to see live in Hong Kong when he was still playing for Boca Juniors. Around the same time, there was Michel Platini wowing football fans with his skill and cool demeanour. Then came the likes of George Weah, Zinedine Zidane, Ronaldo, Ronaldinho. A little after came Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo, both many consider are the best to ever play the beautiful game. Crossing with their careers came Neymar and Mbappe, already a star at twenty-four years of age and sure to lead the next generation. Mbappe is a two-time World Cup finalist (winner in 2018 and runner-up in 2022) and has already surpassed many of Pele’s World Cup exploits.

 

All these players and all players around the world, all fans of every generation owe Pele a giant thank you. He may not have been the reason we got into football but I’m sure he’s a reason – if not THE reason – we love it. He inspired the players who came after him. So, too, were the ones he played with and against. If for nothing else, Pele motivated them to be better.

 

More than football, although some would argue what else is there other than football, Pele brought the world together with his infectious good nature, professing words of peace and love, and brandishing his trademark smile. He was an ambassador. He promoted the game he loved and now we love it too. He promoted humanity and love and peace through that game and you can see, in video clips and interviews, the innocence and unadulterated joy on his face when he talks about these things. It’s the same feelings one gets when watching him play and the elation on his face when he scores. He had the talent on the pitch. He had the humility on and off the pitch. He had the love for all mankind and he made us love him in return. He had longevity, sharing all of this and himself with us for eighty years. In all of these, he will be missed.

 

Thank you, Pele. God bless you and your family. Rest in peace. On behalf of those of us you’ve left behind, I promise that we will do our best to be worthy of being the custodians of your beautiful game.

Messi! Say It Isn't So.

Messi! Say It Isn’t So.

When it comes to international football, I have been a loyal Germany fan for thirty-four years. However, I’ve also been a huge Diego Maradona fan and, as a result of that, I’ve been a Barcelona fan (behind Arsenal and Hamburg, in that order, of course) and an Argentina fan. When I learnt that Lionel Messi, in my opinion the best player in the world today, retired from the national team, I felt and still feel shock, sadness and disappointment.

I’m shocked because he’s such a young and talented player. Without him, there’s a part of international football that will be lacking because of his absence. His absence, on some level, diminishes the opposing team’s accomplishments. It can also cause regret and doubt in his mind. If he doesn’t play out his abilities and let nature take its course on his footballing skills, he’ll always wonder if the next World Cup or Copa America would’ve been ‘the one.’ More importantly, he’s such a joy to watch. Without him, there’s less colour in the tapestry of the beautiful game.

I’m disappointed because he’s such an icon to so many people–children AND adults­–that for him to retire is, in my opinion, a poor message to give to those he inspires. As an athlete and coach, albeit never on his level in any of the sports I’ve competed in and coached, I’ve always accepted that one team or player has to lose and the other one has to win. That’s part of sports. It’s heartbreaking and frustrating that he’s lost four international finals but that’s part of the game. What kind of message is this to send to our youth–quit when things seem impossible? Isn’t that why, or at least one reason why, we get into sports to begin with–to overcome the impossible on the pitch and in ourselves? Some of the other best players to have put on a pair of studs also never won a World Cup or their continental title but they never called it quits. Portugal’s legend, Eusébio never won either. Ferenc Puskás, Hungary’s superstar of the 1950s and 1960s, did win The Olympics and some smaller international titles but not The European Championship or The World Cup. And, of course, there is the Dutch Master, Johan Cruyff. He also never won the European Championship or The World Cup but he didn’t use that as his reason for giving up international football.

I’m sad because, as an athlete and a coach, I’ve experienced loss and setback after setback so I empathise with him. I’ve had some great moments too but there have been more setbacks than triumphs.

Recently, Maradona accused Messi of not having heart. At the time, I felt that he was being harsh. Your time has passed, Diego. Let Messi have his time. That’s what I thought at when I heard of Maradona’s statements but now I feel that maybe Maradona is right. I also felt that Messi needs to win a World Cup or Copa America to be regarded as a legend once his playing days are over. However, when I thought of the legends and the likes of Cruyff, Michel Platini (did win The European Championship in 1984), Eusébio, Puskás, Lev Yashin and George Best, all who also never won a World Cup, I changed my mind. In my opinion, Messi does need to win The World Cup to get out of Maradona’s very large shadow but to be a legend all he has to do is be his best and stay the course no matter how hard it is. It’s when things are difficult that someone shows his true character. When things are easy, well, it’s just easy. It might be fun and all smiles but it doesn’t really show what you’re made of.

Messi, like to many others, is my son’s all-time favourite player and Argentina is his favourite international team and Barcelona is his favourite club team. My son is eight and starting to really get into football. There are many players my son likes and looks up to–Neymar and Ozil are two of them–and he’ll still enjoy football without Messi playing for Argentina but it won’t be the same. It’ll be like Magic without Bird or McEnroe without Borg. It’ll still good to watch but not the best.

So, I’m hoping and praying that Messi made this decision in an emotional state–and he was in one–and, as I said earlier, I empathised with him. When the camera flashed on him as Chile was raising the Copa America trophy, tears welled up in my own eyes. When some time has passed and Argentina is preparing for 2018 World Cup qualification, I hope and pray that Messi reconsiders and announces his availability for national selection. As I said before, staying the course when things are hard is a sign of true character. So, too, is admitting you made a mistake. I believe his decision is a mistake. I hope if (when) he changes his mind, it’s not too late and the world can bask in his footballing majesty once again. However, if he doesn’t change his mind, I hope and pray that his decision, in the end, is the best one for him; that he has no doubts over it (he will always have regrets) and that he is happy.

Familiarity

I'm a fan of Arsenal Football Club. If you've read my blogs you'll know that. This season, we, Arsenal (like every true sports fan I've become one with my team), got off to a horrible start. Now, comfortably in fifth place in the English Premier League, and on a very good run of form since late September/early October we seem to be headed in the right direction as the season enters its second half.

In world football, January is the in-season transfer window. Players come and go and sometimes there are big signings and sometimes younger players go out on loan to other teams to gain valuable playing experience. So far, Arsenal has made just one signing. It's a two-month loan deal with Thierry Henry, arguably one of the best players ever to don a pair of studs and one of the best - if not THE best - player to have worn Arsenal kit. (He's definitley one of my favourites but I do have to admit that Denis Bergkamp and Pat Jennings rank higher than him in that regard. Sorry Thierry. I still love you. Haha.) This, you see, is Henry's second stint with Arsenal. He's the club's all-time leading goalscorer, having scored 226 goals, before his loan move.

Even though we're doing  relatively well, we need to do better. Last Monday, we had an FA Cup match against Leeds United, a lower division team, and while we were dominating we could not break through and score. That is, until Henry came on as a substitute, received a sublime pass from Alex Song and, just like he'd down countless times before, trapped the ball and curled it deftly into the far corner of the goal. Final score: Arsenal 1 Leeds 0. I had a moment of hysterical celebration, falling off my sofa and pushing the coffee table forward to find myself sitting on the floor with my arms raised and screaming like I'd scored the goal. There was even a moment when I felt I might start bawling my eyes out. By the way, that goal takes Henry's Arsenal scoring tally to 227 and counting.

Henry's only going to be playing with Arsenal until around March or late February when he returns to the NY Red Bulls of Major League Soccer, America's professional football league, where he will likely finish his playing career. However, when Henry scored, there was an immediate feeling of hope that we will go on to win trophies this season the way we had when Henry was in his prime. It's, perhaps, a far reach and an unrealsitic one but watching him play again in Arsenal's red and white and scoring gave me that feeling. Feeling that we will go on to win everything - or even anything - may be just plain silly but I think Henry's experience and skill, which is still there, can lift his teammates' in addition to getting us some positive results on the pitch.

I've enjoyed this season so far, especially when we've played well and won. The next two months, though, I'll enjoy it for different reasons. With Henry back on the team, it's almost like running into an old friend. You reminisce about the old times and, as you're doing that, you create new times; things you'll reminisce about when you see each other after another long separation.

Our next match is on Sunday, away at Swansea. It's at 11am New York time and I'll be sitting on my sofa, probably wearing my Arsenal jersey, cheering my team and my old 'friend.'

Fathers and Sons and Football

I posted a blog last March called "Father and Sons and Martial Arts" that talked about how my son, Jude, was (and he still does) coming home from day care and getting into martial arts stances and throwing kicks and punches in the air. I talked about how proud I was because, as a longtime martial artist myself, I'd love it if Jude followed in my footsteps and studied Taekwondo or Karate or Escrima or whatever martial art he gets into.

This blog - perhaps a Fathers and Sons post will become an annual thing - is about my (our?) love affair with Arsenal Football Club, undoubtedly the best football team in London and in Europe. Yes, that is my biased assessment but what self-respecting football fan wouldn't stand by his team? Haha.

Ever since Jude was a baby, he'd watch football on TV with me. When he was newly born, he might be asleep or awake but we'd sit on the sofa and watch AFC take on whatever club it was scheduled to play that week. Whether it was a weekend Premier League match or a midway Champions League or Carling Cup fixture, we'd be on the sofa watching the match. Eventually, I'd buy him infant PJs and play wear from Arsenal. Yes, I'd order the clothes from England and not from a US retailer. As Jude got older, I bought him some replica jerseys for toddlers. His last jersey, from the 2009-2010, is getting smaller and he's due for new kit. (He's also been to Red Bulls Arena and watched the NY Red Bulls take on Manchester City and Tottenham Hotspur play against Sporting Lisbon and he has a Thierry Henry NY Red Bulls replica jersey.)

In 2009, my wife gave me a Wii for Christmas. Naturally, I bought the current FIFA game. Recently, she bought me the 2012 edition. Watching me play, Jude cheers when I (as Arsenal, of course) score a goal, responding the way I would watching an actual live match. As his football education continues, he's gotten familiar with our team's jersey and he recognizes it whenever he sees it. If he's not wearing his and there's an Arsenal match on TV, he'll point at the players and say, "I have that shirt." He's also taken to calling Arsenal the "red team." Recently, he's learnt to say the team's name and when a replay of last month's Wolves-Arsenal match was on TV I asked him who was playing. Jude looked at the screen then to me and, with a huge smile, "Arsenal." You can imagine my joy and pride.

This week, it was Jude's turn for Show-And-Tell at day care. For that, he brought his Arsenal shirt and talked about it. He told the class that it was his favourite shirt, that it's the red soccer team and that he loves it. That was yesterday. On the way home, I asked him about what he said and after he recounted it he added, "And the team shirt is getting smaller. Can I buy a new one?"

You can imagine how I felt. This season Arsenal has its usual red home jersey but a two-tone blue away one. I asked Jude which one he wanted and he said the blue. Honestly, I don't think he's aware of what the blue one looks like but he likes the colour blue and looks great in it so, yes, he can have one. The best part, though, was that he asked for it. As the saying goes, "My work is done."

Before getting home, we stopped at the local Chinese takeout spot, ordered some food, hit the local drug store for a couple of things then proceeded to the soccer and lacrosse shop to see if they had an Arsenal jersey Jude's size. I'm glad they didn't because, as my wife pointed out, for his Arsenal stuff we have to order it from Arsenal so we can get BAS put on the back like we did with his two previous shirts. I guess with my wife and her football indoctrination, my work could also be done.

Another smile was put on my face when we walked into the shop. Seeing all the kits and soccer stuff, Jude said, "Oh...my...God" and when he saw a size five ball in the middle of the room he added, "Daddy, look at that soccer." That's what he calls the ball - soccer. He'd love to have kicked it around but there were other customers there and I didn't want him to disrupt them and I didn't want him to chance breaking something.

Well, just like with the martial arts, I'd love it if Jude really gets into football and plays, like I did but takes it further than I did, and if he really becomes a fan, especially of Arsenal. If he does neither of these things, I'll be okay with that too. As long as he finds his 'thing' and lives a happy, content and fulfilling life I'll be cool with that. But, if he were to become a Gooner like his dad that wouldn't be such a bad thing. Or, better still, play for Arsenal and, maybe even score....Hmm.

ARSENAL! ARSENAL! ARSENAL! GOAL! BAS! AND THERE'S THE FINAL WHISTLE. ARSENAL HAVE WON THE CHAMPIONS LEAGUE!

Hmm.