You could ask the same question all over the world, and get so many (biased) answers.
Ask an Argentine and you’ll get a one word, straightforward answer. Maradona. I’d be inclined to agree, with a caveat. Maradona had the chance to end all debate as to the greatest football player of all time, but he would rather eat and do drugs than live the monkish, devoted, ascetic lifestyle demanded of the best football players. With all of the talent he had in his pudgy, diminutive frame, he’d have been the greatest if only he had wanted to be. He reminds me of Mike Tyson in that respect. Tyson was the most dominant heavyweight on the planet, one of the most intimidating fighters of all time, a man who won most of his fights before he entered the ring. The only problem was that he bought into his own hype, his Don King delusion, his Robin Givens supercouple fame, and his no-need-to-train arrogance. Maradona was the same way, and was possessed of even more natural ability. If he’d ever lost the weight, imagine his pace, his quicksilver shiftiness. If only he’d spent the extra time on the pitch instead of in the clubs with the cocaine and the women. It’s easy to understand WHY he got caught up in all those trappings—those are the reasons people want to become rich and famous, and once your talent and ambition open those possibilities up, it’s hard to stay focused. Maradona had it all—the full range of human experience, from the ultimate high of a World Cup championship to the low of a positive ephedrine test and dismissal from the 1994 World Cup. He was a controversial figure during his entire career, but as with all who possess ludicrous amounts of talent, he was forgiven countless times. Maradona is still beloved in Argentina, and in Napoli, where he played the majority of his club football.
Ask an Englishman, and he may tell you the best ever was Sir Bobby Charlton, but more likely the answer will be Georgie Best, though Georgie is more of an honorary Brit because he played for Manchester United, yet was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland. As they say in Belfast: “Maradona good, Pele better, George Best.” I have only seen Best play on old videos, and he was truly electrifying, but he only qualifies for discussion because he’s Irish and played for United.
Ask a German, and likely the names of Franz Beckenbauer and Gerd Muller will come up.
Muller is the best pure scorer I have ever seen. Awkward and bulky, Muller was a singleminded attacker of Herculean strength who was able to fight off tackles and score with precision or élan, yet would score ugly, gutty goals in equal measure. I’ve always loved that type of hard-nosed player, like Gennaro Gattuso or Wayne Rooney. Beckenbauer was the pioneer of the attacking sweeper position, able to defend skillfully and able to exert his will on the score sheet as well. 
On the German World Cup teams of the 60’s and 70’s, Beckenbauer and Muller made up the Orr and Esposito of football. Beckenbauer’s limitless talent and skill partnered with Muller’s bloodhound nose for the net proved an unstoppable combination, and they’ve got a 1974 World Cup to prove it. Still, while both were truly great players, neither claims the top spot.
Ask a Portuguese man, and Eusebio will be his instant response. (I don’t believe the Portuguese are ready to replace him with that young pretty boy in Manchester just yet.) Eusebio possessed blistering speed and a turbo charged right foot. His play against North Korea in the 1966 World Cup is legendary, leading his team back from what would have been a stunning upset. Trailing by three goals, Eusebio scored four to ensure Portugal’s advancement in the tourney.
Ask a Frenchman, and they may (grudgingly) say Zizou. They only say it grudgingly because Zinedine Zidane is not truly French—he’s Algerian. There is a long history of France’s revolting treatment of Algerians, yet when Algeria produced a true footballing genius the likes of which the world had never seen, all of a sudden Zidane is French! Without a doubt, in the years I’ve been closely following soccer, Zidane is most exhilarating, dominant player I’ve ever seen. He could do so many things well. I’ve never seen anyone so strong on the ball, and he played with such passion, sometimes to a fault. His red card in the last World Cup for headbutting an Italian defender was well deserved, but I can hardly hold it against him. I love hard-nosed players like Zidane, and the red card threat is always there. The same zeal that makes them so good is always a risk.
Ask a Dutchman, and your answer will be Johann Cruyff. Cruyff never gets mentioned by Americans in the discussion of “best ever” players, and it’s too bad so many of us don’t understand the game enough to recognize the Dutch influence on the worldwide game. Cruyff led the charge for “total football”, and though the philosophy was part of Dutch club Ajax’s training for many years, only through Cruyff’s brilliance was total football acknowledged. To continue the hockey metaphors, Cruyff was Gretzkyesque in his ability to see the field, the angles and approaches, and he possessed the skills to both deliver and finish. While Cruyff might be one of the most influential football players of all time, and the greatest European player, he still takes a backseat to number one. Have you guessed who it’ll be yet? Who’s the most glaring omission on this list?
So you’ve traveled to Sao Paulo or Rio de Janeiro just to pose the question: Who is the greatest football player of all time? You may be surprised at the answer you receive. In Brazil, Pele reigns supreme, but among Brazilians, a half-step below Pele is Garrincha. Garrincha, the “little bird”, played alongside Pele on the 50’s and 60’s Brazilian World Cup teams. Known as the best dribbler of all time, Garrincha was somewhat like OJ Simpson (no, he didn’t 
murder two people) in that he suffered severe birth defects in his legs, yet did not let his physical disabilities limit him. When he matured physically, just like OJ, who wore leg braces, he found that he possessed advantages over other athletes. Sadly, like OJ and Maradona, Garrincha struggled off the field. Garrincha’s alcoholism is well known, and he paid for his indulgence with his life, dying of cirrhosis of the liver, far too young at 49.
That leaves us with Pele. A bit anticlimactic, isn’t it? I didn’t even try to be controversial, and Pele is entirely too safe a pick for me to be satisfied, but his influence on the game is unmatched. Even Americans know enough about soccer that this is a no-brainer. The only player to win three World Cups, Pele brought the game to a new level with those Brazilian teams, which are considered among the greatest teams ever assembled. More amazingly, Pele’s move to America in the twilight of his career stimulated the youth soccer craze of the 1970’s, even if his influence on professional soccer in the States never reached its projections. There is certainly no 
doubting his skill, his superlative creativity, and pure genius for the game, even if he was temperamental, injury-prone, and money-hungry. Though he is justified a bit of arrogance, and certainly is the player most responsible for soccer’s huge television revenues, Pele never met an appearance fee he didn’t like, and sometimes he puts his pocketbook before the game.
That’s plenty for today. In next week’s entry, I’ll explore the question of the best active player.
