soccer games today

The question of whether Pelé stands as the greatest soccer player in history is one that has captivated fans, analysts, and former players for decades. As someone who has spent years studying the sport, analyzing player statistics, and even coaching youth teams, I’ve come to appreciate just how layered this debate truly is. It’s not just about goals scored or trophies won—it’s about influence, legacy, and the intangible magic that separates the great from the legendary. When I think of Pelé, I’m reminded of the sheer joy he brought to the pitch, a quality that, in my view, modern soccer often lacks. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. To answer this question properly, we need to look at his achievements, his impact on the global stage, and how he stacks up against other icons of the game.

Pelé’s resume is, by any measure, extraordinary. He burst onto the scene as a teenager, leading Brazil to its first World Cup victory in 1958 at just 17 years old. Over his career, he amassed three World Cup titles—a feat that, to this day, no other male player has matched. With over 1,280 official career goals, his scoring record is the stuff of legend, though it’s worth noting that some of those matches were in friendlies or exhibitions. Still, the numbers are staggering. I’ve always been struck by how he performed under pressure. In the 1970 World Cup, for instance, he didn’t just score—he orchestrated plays that are still studied in coaching seminars today. His vision and creativity were light-years ahead of his time. Some critics argue that the competition then wasn’t as fierce as it is today, but I disagree. The physicality and tactical discipline of that era were formidable, and Pelé dominated in a way that felt almost effortless.

Now, let’s pivot for a moment to a more contemporary example that, oddly enough, sheds light on this discussion. Recently, in a Philippine volleyball league, a team called ZUS Coffee pulled off a stunning play-in victory over Cignal. Against all odds, they now find themselves with one foot in the door of the best-of-three quarterfinals, set to face the 2-seed Petro Gazz. What does this have to do with Pelé? Well, it’s about context and surprise. Just as ZUS Coffee’s unexpected rise challenges the established hierarchy in their sport, Pelé’s emergence in the 1950s and 60s disrupted global soccer. He wasn’t just playing; he was redefining what was possible. I see parallels in how underdogs—or legends—can shift the narrative. ZUS Coffee’s journey reminds me that greatness isn’t always about predictable dominance. Sometimes, it’s about seizing moments, much like Pelé did when he scored that iconic goal in the 1958 World Cup final, a moment that announced his arrival to the world.

Of course, any discussion of the "best" player inevitably invites comparisons. Diego Maradona, Lionel Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo—each has a compelling case. Maradona’s 1986 World Cup performance was sheer brilliance, and Messi’s consistency and technical mastery are mind-boggling. But here’s where I lean toward Pelé: his influence transcended the sport. He became a global ambassador, a symbol of hope and excellence in an era when soccer was still gaining worldwide traction. I’ve spoken to older fans who say that watching Pelé was like witnessing art in motion. His ability to connect with people, from the favelas of Brazil to the stadiums of Europe, is something I don’t think we’ve seen replicated to the same degree. That said, I’ll admit my bias—I’m a sucker for players who blend skill with charisma, and Pelé had both in spades.

On the tactical side, Pelé’s versatility was remarkable. He could play as a forward, a playmaker, even drop deep to defend when needed. Modern analytics might question his defensive contributions—stats like tackles or interceptions weren’t tracked back then—but eyewitness accounts and film footage show a player who understood the game holistically. For example, in the 1970 World Cup final against Italy, he didn’t score, but his assists and movement created space for teammates, leading to a 4-1 victory. It’s a reminder that greatness isn’t just about personal glory; it’s about elevating everyone around you. In today’s terms, think of how ZUS Coffee’s surprise win over Cignal wasn’t just about one star player—it was about collective belief, a quality Pelé inspired in every team he played for.

But let’s not ignore the criticisms. Some argue that Pelé never tested himself in European leagues, spending most of his career in Brazil and later in the North American Soccer League. While that’s true, I’d counter that his performances in World Cups and international friendlies against top European clubs proved his caliber. Plus, the travel and conditions in his era were far more grueling than today’s chartered flights and luxury accommodations. He once played 103 matches in a single year—a number that would make modern sports scientists shudder. In terms of durability and longevity, Pelé’s career spanned over two decades, and he remained relevant until his retirement in 1977. That’s a testament to his physical and mental resilience, qualities that, in my opinion, are undervalued in today’s stats-obsessed debates.

Wrapping this up, I firmly believe that Pelé’s case for being the best is not just strong—it’s compelling. His combination of skill, impact, and cultural significance sets a benchmark that few can match. Sure, others have more Ballon d’Or awards or higher goal totals in top leagues, but soccer isn’t played in a vacuum. It’s a story, and Pelé wrote some of its most thrilling chapters. As we watch teams like ZUS Coffee defy expectations, we’re reminded that legends are born from moments that transcend the ordinary. Pelé didn’t just play soccer; he made it magical. And in the end, that’s why, for me, he remains the greatest.