Philosophy Football

So. Farewell, Sócrates Brasileiro Sampaio de Souza Vieira de Oliveira (don’t you love names from that part of the world?). Your passing brought up many pundits talking about the Brazil team of 1982 that you captained. “Best team to never win the World Cup,” they say, and they may well be right. I've watched the game that was their downfall, when Italy’s Paolo Rossi goal hanged a hat-trick past them, creating the start of his own legend in the process.

Commentator John Motson made an astute point on that game, that with the score at 2-2, which was enough to send Brazil to the semi-final, the South Americans were still looking for another goal. This attitude, along with some inept defending, ensured they went home empty-handed. Some have said that they've never had that wonderfully cavalier attitude since. A sentiment I can relate to after staying up till silly o'clock to watch the 1994 World Cup final.

Sócrates was the heartbeat of that 1982 team. Watch their second goal in the above mentioned game, where he picks the ball up in the middle of the park, plays to Zico and bursts through to pick up the sublime return ball, still having the skill to put it past Dino Zoff from a narrow angle. He was one of the icons of that tournament, bearded and gangly, socks rolled down.

My own personal connection to him also comes down to appearance. He was pretty much built the same as me: tall (six foot four) and rake thin, he gave lie to the cliché that “big men” couldn't be graceful on the pitch. The line “he’s got a good touch for a big fella” would suggest that once you get over about six foot tall, you’re incapable of acting in any way except like Frankenstein’s monster.

He was perhaps one of the last of the top footballers who went through higher education. He put off turning pro until he’d finished his studies to become a doctor of medicine. Of course, we've had Engish players with degrees (former Man United players Steve Coppell and Alan Gowling spring to mind), but not many had the charisma of the Brazilian. He campaigned for democracy at a time when his country was ruled by a military dictatorship – perhaps he realised that his status allowed him to say things that most others could never get away with.

Plus, of course, he came from an era where you could get away with playing football at the highest level despite liking nothing better than puffing away on cigarettes and swigging bottles of beer on a pretty regular basis, a lifestyle which may not have helped his chances in the longevity stakes. From interviews I read, he didn't seem to give a fuck. Blackburn fans may wish to add Simon Garner here.

This brings us to the present, and the good Doctor’s expiration. We could do with more characters like him in the game, people who can construct sentences that don’t require “you know” placed in them somewhere. But maybe Sócrates was a one-off. If you’re a fan of football, check out clips of him and his Brazil side on youtube – talent like that deserves to be remembered.