Homage to a Champion.

 

So the great Pelé died yesterday, age 82, making it all the more a shame that Brazil could not manage to bring home one more World Cup for him. 

Pelé was the man who brought soccer into the modern age, and to worldwide dominance. Shepherding it out of its adolescence as an intense turf battle, played mostly by rival ethnic groups or communities under the shadow of factory walls and smokestacks, to—for better and worse—the grandiose spectacular we just witnessed in Qatar. 

Pelé, more than anyone else, made it "The Beautiful Game," leading Brazil to three Cups in four tournaments. And after a career spent mostly in his native land—a near impossibility for such a star today—he became the "ambassador of soccer," bringing his game to the US in 1975.

This was with the New York Cosmos, of course—the only other club Pelé actually played for besides Santos (another near impossibility today). Those were the wild and whacky days of the Cosmos, with the team winning three, North American Soccer League (NASL) "Soccer Bowls" in the course of four years, and routinely drawing crowds of over 60,000 and even 70,000 to Giants Stadium.

(A 1977 playoff match against the Fort Lauderdale Strikers drew 77,891 customers—a record for soccer in America that stands to this day.)

I was at some of those games, and they were great fun, a mob scene, but never threatening or violent—as the baseball crowds of the time could become. I was even at Pelé's (supposed) last match, a friendly between Santos and the Cosmos, in which he played a half for each club.

Pelé scored in that game, as he usually did: a Ruthian 1,281 goals in 1,363 games, including league games, friendlies, international tournaments. He was past his best days by the time he got to New York, but he was still in great shape—as the picture here indicates—and still a constant threat, someone the opposition always had to keep an eye on, even when he was not doing much of anything.

This was supposed to be the start of a new era, but in fact it was already the twilight of the NASL. Instead of inspiring America's youth to go gaga for the beautiful game, Pelé mainly inspired dozens of other, aging stars to cash in with big American contracts. 

The quality of the soccer varied wildly with these guys' enthusiasm and fitness, and the model proved economically unsustainable. But damn, it was fun while it lasted—a sort of senior tournament of soccer, drawing huge crowds of ex-pats to see their idols. The NASL gave us the wonderful "shoot-out" to resolve ties, and any number of priceless moments.

I can't do them all justice—though a great documentary that can is the hilarious, affectionate Once in a Lifetime: The Extraordinary Story of the New York Cosmos, written by Gavin Newsham, and directed by Paul Crowder and John Dower. Watch it if you can find it.

Among other things, the film relates how Pelé was ready to quit after his first Cosmos game at Downing Stadium, on Randall's Island. Why? He discovered afterwards that he had a mysterious green fungus all over his legs. Turns out, the Cosmos had spray-painted the field, so it would look better on national TV.

Not everyone was pleased by Pelé's arrival. His introductory press conference at 21 was famously interrupted by (an insane? drunk? take your pick) Dick Young. Young just started shouting in the back of the room about how "un-American" soccer was.

Later, Dick went with another Daily News sportswriter and Pelé to a game at Shea Stadium. The columnist had a serious bet down that no one would recognize the great star. He lost that bet, much to his astonishment. Everyone knew Pelé

Messi, Schmessi. Edson Arantes do Nascimento, you're still the greatest.