What Pelé Told Me
The advice the g.o.a.t. gave me before he left the field
It was not the most auspicious of occasions to meet soccer’s biggest star. An Apple Store in Lower Manhattan had invited Edson Arantes do Nascimento, better known to the world as Pelé to demo a new video game made in his image. The set up of the game was embarrassing. You, the player, took on the role of Pelé and booted your way through a series of digitized soccer pitches. Starting out in a gravel lot in a poor Brazilian favela, you gradually worked your way through the neoliberal soccer maze and, if you booted well, you eventually alighted on the World Cup stage. You could do things to Pelé. Change his hat for example. One option was a sombrero.
This line Pelé said to me has stayed with me. Through my forties and into my fifties as I struggle to move forward and make good on the possibilities left to me.
As the demo unfloded real Pelé sat straight-backed and patient radiating a warmth and dignity that was unmistakable. Finally, after the video game was put away, and the British designer remarked “what an honor it had been to work with Pelé” the center attacking midfielder took the stage and submitted to questions.
