SANTOS (Sao Paulo): Amid a media scrum outside the Vila Belmiro, Santos’s delightful retro stadium, Antonio Lima, a flux octogenarian, Santos legend and Pele’s brother-in-law, told Dawn that there would never be a second Pele again. Lima spoke from a position of privilege — he played alongside Pele in peak physical fitness in the early 60’s, Santos’ golden era. At times, the voice of Lima, remembering those moments of sporting glory and kinship with Pele, broke up.

And so it was, here on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean in Santos, where for decades letters mailed to ‘Pele, Santos, Brazil’ arrived with the addressee, that time seemed stretched; at the turn of the year, Brazil welcomed Luiz Inacio ‘Lula’ da Silva again as president and yet for the first time in history the South American nation was without the boy that had conquered the Vila Belmiro, stormed onto the world stage at the 1958 World Cup in Sweden and then cemented his place in the pantheon of the legends as well as Brazil’s claims to be the futebol nation twelve years later at the 1970 World Cup in Mexico.

To the tunes of ‘Eu Sou Pele’ (I am Pele), mourners and supporters passed the Pele’s coffin, often dressed in the shirt of Santos, sometimes in the yellow of Brazil. There were flip-flops and shorts in a funeral procession that had distinct coastal features as well as tears and those kissing the grass of the field where Pele had won just about everything all those decades ago.

Some had come with their own memories — chugging a beer, Demer, a former Santos player, had seen Pele ‘illuminate play’ in the stands of the Pacaembu stadium, a former Flamengo president recalled the wonder of watching Pele in the 1969 World Cup qualifiers and Fabio claimed his grandfather had welcomed Pele multiple times at his restaurant ‘Bar Central’ in Bauru, the village where the number ten was born. But most, with their phones in hand in this social media age, came to witness and partake in history.

Pele, argued Vinicius, who had travelled 700 kilometres from Uberaba in Pele’s native state Minas Gerais, deserved it — this outpouring of love and admiration because he was the ultimate football player and Brazil’s greatest ambassador. Wearing a vintage New York Cosmos T-shirt, Fabio recalled how Pele had shouted ‘Love, love, love’ into the mic at Giants Stadium.

And Brazilians of all generations and all races were returning that warmth, throwing flowers at the coffin, pointing fingers at the sky and chanting ‘Mil Gols’ with a tweak of ‘Rei Eterno’ at the end. That eternity will be important in the post-Pele era. How will future generations understand the importance of Pele for a nation that was looking to find its way in the early 50s? How will children around Brazil value the world’s first superstar?

Fabio pointed out that Brazilians’ have the duty to educate the next generations on what they have lost with the passing of Pele, a cultural icon, Brazil’s representative around the world and football’s apex artist. Of course, Pele can’t be reduced to mere superlatives. Critics always pointed to his lack of activism for the black cause, his silence over the military dictatorship and his endless commercial endorsements — and then there was Edson, with all his personal flaws and human vulnerabilities. Brazil always struggled to embrace Edson.

But perhaps it was Pele’s divine status that prompted burden and unreasonable public perception — kings, heads of state, presidents, rock stars, celebrities, supporters, hangers on and just about everyone wanted a piece of Pele and ascribed characteristics to their hero that he simply didn’t possess. It was no different in Santos — FIFA boss Gianni Infantino — criticised for his selfie — CONMEBOL boss Alejandro Dominguez and politicians claimed their moment with Pele.

Lula was the last dignitary to send off Pele, arriving at the Vila Belmiro on Tuesday morning with his wife Janja and a huge security detail. An ardent Corinthians fan, Lula and Pele spent time together on the bid team of the Rio de Janeiro 2016 Olympic Games.

Lula’s presence was hugely symbolic of Brazil at a crossroads, ushering in a new political age yet saying farewell to the King. And so, it was time for the final journey, through the streets of Santos, along the beach, past the house of Pele’s mother and then onto the cemetery, a stately building a stone’s throw away from the Vila Belmiro. Here Edson was laid to rest, alongside countless others, lesser-known citizens, with names and stories that won’t echo into eternity. Indeed, Pele has entered eternity or as Lindomar, 69, who once given a piece of land by Pele, said outside the Santos stadium: “Pele hasn’t died for me. He means everything.”

Published in Dawn, january 4th, 2023