The Ever-Shifting Throne and the Brazilian Kings Choice
The thing is, asking Pelé for a definitive "best" was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. He was a diplomat, a brand, and a deeply proud athlete all rolled into one. For years, he insisted that Alfredo Di Stéfano held the top spot because the Argentine-born Spaniard could play every position on the pitch with equal mastery. But wait, because that changes everything when you realize he later added names like George Best and even Franz Beckenbauer to his personal Mount Rushmore. People don't think about this enough: Pelé’s criteria weren't based on YouTube highlights—which didn't exist during his prime—but on the sheer physical dominance and spatial awareness he witnessed from the touchline during his globetrotting friendlies with Santos.
Decoding the Di Stéfano Obsession
Why Di Stéfano? Most modern fans see the five consecutive European Cups and assume it is just about the silverware. It isn't. Pelé viewed Di Stéfano as a "complete" footballer, a term we throw around far too loosely today when describing players who can simply pass and move. Di Stéfano was a defender, a playmaker, and a clinical finisher simultaneously, leading Real Madrid to a 7-3 victory in the 1960 European Cup Final at Hampden Park—a match often cited as the pinnacle of individual influence. But I suspect there was a bit of tactical ego involved; by praising a player from a previous era or a different archetype, Pelé subtly protected his own status as the ultimate "Number 10." Honestly, it’s unclear if he ever truly believed anyone surpassed his own 1,283 career goals, yet his public concessions were always fascinating.
The Maradona Complication and the Rivalry of the Century
We're far from a simple answer when Diego Maradona enters the conversation. The relationship between the two was a rollercoaster of public embraces and bitter litigation. During the 1990s, the friction was palpable. Yet, when pushed, Pelé would often sidestep the Maradona comparison by bringing the conversation back to technical skill rather than raw emotion or cultural impact. He once remarked that Maradona was "incomplete" because he couldn't head the ball well or use his right foot. This wasn't just petty—it was a calculated critique from a man who prided himself on being ambipedal. Which explains why his praise for Di Stéfano remained so consistent; the Madrid legend had no such biological limitations.
Technical Mastery Versus Pure Athleticism in the Kings Eyes
Where it gets tricky is defining what "best" actually meant in the 1960s and 70s compared to our data-driven era. Pelé lived through the transition from heavy leather balls and muddy pitches to the dawn of the modern, televised game. As a result: his evaluation of talent was rooted in ball control under duress. He saw the game as a series of physical confrontations. He frequently lauded Garrincha, his teammate during the 1958 and 1962 World Cup triumphs, as the most incredible dribbler to ever live. Yet, he rarely ranked "The Angel with Bent Legs" as the greatest overall player, likely because Garrincha lacked the disciplined longevity that defined Pelé’s own storied career.
The Lost Art of the Multi-Functional Midfielder
In the mid-2000s, Pelé’s rhetoric shifted slightly toward the European maestros. He began speaking about Zinedine Zidane with a reverence usually reserved for Brazilian legends. He noted that Zidane was a "master" because of his elegance, but even then, he would often circle back to the same conclusion—that Di Stéfano was the blueprint. Except that we must remember the context of these interviews. Often, he was speaking to Spanish media or at FIFA galas where certain narratives were preferred. Is it possible that the "Best" was a moving target designed to keep everyone happy? Experts disagree on his true private opinion, but the public record leans heavily toward the man who turned the Santiago Bernabéu into a cathedral of football.
Physicality and the 1970 World Cup Paradigm
The 1970 squad is widely considered the greatest collection of talent ever assembled. Tostão, Rivellino, Gérson, Jairzinho—each was a genius. But Pelé never signaled one of them as his superior. He saw himself as the conductor of that orchestra. And that’s the issue remains: Pelé’s "best" was always someone who mirrored his own comprehensive understanding of the game’s mechanics. He looked for players who possessed the proprioception to navigate 22 bodies in motion without losing the rhythm of the ball. If you couldn't do it all—tackle, sprint, leap, and shoot—you weren't in the running for his top spot.
Comparative Analysis of the Greats Pelé Frequently Mentioned
To understand Pelé’s logic, we have to look at the numbers and the era-specific dominance of his chosen few. He didn't just look at goals. He looked at longevity. Di Stéfano played at the top level well into his late 30s, much like Pelé did with the New York Cosmos. This shared experience of being an aging icon in a violent era of "no-substitutes" football created a bond of mutual respect. But the issue remains that Di Stéfano’s lack of World Cup appearances (he missed out due to injury, non-qualification, and switching nationalities) creates a massive hole in the "Greatest" argument for most historians. Pelé, however, seemed to view this as an irrelevant bureaucratic footnote rather than a sporting failure.
Cruyff and the Total Football Revolution
Then there is Johan Cruyff. Pelé’s relationship with the Dutchman's legacy was one of distant admiration. He recognized that Cruyff changed how the game was thought about, moving pieces like a grandmaster on a chessboard. But Cruyff was skinny, fragile-looking, and perhaps lacked the raw power Pelé associated with true greatness. In short, Cruyff was a thinker, while Pelé and Di Stéfano were warriors who happened to be geniuses. This distinction is vital. Pelé often valued the ability to survive a brutal hacking from a defender and still put the ball in the top corner—a feat he saw Di Stéfano perform in the Spanish Primera División year after year.
The Unexpected Shoutout to George Best
One of the most famous quotes attributed to Pelé is "George Best was the greatest player in the world." Did he mean it? Or was it a moment of charismatic hyperbole during a trip to the UK? Best certainly had the flair. He had the 1968 European Cup and the Ballon d'Or. But Best lacked the discipline that Pelé worshipped. It is a fascinating contradiction in the King’s character; he loved the rebels, yet he only truly "certified" the professionals. The issue remains that the "Best" label was often used as a tool of encouragement or a mark of respect for a specific performance rather than a static ranking in a spreadsheet.
The Evolution of the Best Player Criteria Over Seven Decades
If we look at Pelé’s comments from the 1960s through the 2020s, a pattern emerges. Early on, he was defensive of his era. Later, he became a global ambassador, and his answers grew more inclusive. Yet, through all the noise of the Messi vs. Ronaldo era, he stayed remarkably consistent about the past. He saw Lionel Messi as the most talented of the current crop, once stating he would have loved to play alongside him, but he still wouldn't definitively place him above the ghosts of Madrid or the shadows of his own past. He argued that Messi was a "one-trick pony" early in the Argentine's career—a ridiculous claim by any standard, but one that highlights Pelé’s obsession with the "complete" player archetype.
The Messi and Ronaldo Statistical Avalanche
How do you compare 700+ goals in the modern Champions League to Pelé’s era? Pelé’s answer was usually to point toward the World Cup trophy. To him, the tournament held in the heat of Mexico or the pressure of Sweden was the only true litmus test. Because the Champions League is a recurring annual event, he felt it lacked the "do or die" psychological weight of a quadrennial tournament. This is where his nuance contradicts conventional wisdom: while the world moved toward valuing club consistency, Pelé remained a creature of the international stage. He suggested that Cristiano Ronaldo was a great "goalscorer" but perhaps not a great "player" in the holistic sense that he perceived in Di Stéfano or himself.
Common pitfalls when debating who did Pele say was the best
The problem is that memory functions like a fractured mirror. We tend to cherry-pick a single quote from a specific decade and treat it as the eternal gospel of O Rei. Most casual fans fall into the trap of chronological bias. Because Pele lived through the rise of Diego Maradona and the peak of Lionel Messi, people assume his final answer must be a modern one. It was not that simple. He changed his mind based on the specific attributes he was asked to evaluate. If you ignore the context of the interview, you lose the truth. Let's be clear: the 1,283 goals scored by the king himself gave him a unique perspective that transcends YouTube highlights.
The Maradona-Messi dichotomy
You probably think he picked one and stuck with it. Wrong. During the 2010s, Pele frequently vacillated between the two Argentine titans. At one gala, he might suggest Messi was the most complete, yet a year later, he would argue that Maradona was a more distinct individual talent. The issue remains that his relationship with Maradona was a mercurial cocktail of rivalry and respect. When he looked at Messi, he saw a reflection of a system player; when he looked at Maradona, he saw a rebel. Because they were from Argentina, his Brazilian pride occasionally flavored his commentary, leading him to pivot back to Alfredo Di Stefano as his preferred historical benchmark. It is a messy narrative.
Ignoring the Di Stefano obsession
Why do we ignore the 1950s? Pele was adamant for years that Alfredo Di Stefano was the pinnacle of footballing versatility. He viewed the Real Madrid legend as someone who could defend, organize, and finish with equal surgical precision. Most modern debates forget this name entirely. Which explains why Pele often sounded like an outlier in modern talk shows. He saw the game as a holistic endeavor, not just a collection of dribbles. If we only look for names like Ronaldo or Messi in his interviews, we miss his deep reverence for the tactical pioneers who built the foundation of the modern European game.
The hidden nuance of the Santos connection
There is a darker, or perhaps just more sentimental, corner of this debate that experts rarely touch. Except that it involves a name many Europeans can barely pronounce. Pele often spoke of his teammate Zito or the wizard Garrincha with a tone of reverence that bordered on the religious. He knew that without the 1958 and 1962 World Cup squads, his own light might have dimmed. But did he ever call them the best? Not exactly. He reserved the "best" title for those who carried the weight of an entire nation's expectations on their shoulders alone. He appreciated the toil of the midfield general, but he worshipped the audacity of the creative soloist.
Expert advice: Look for the internal logic
When you analyze who did Pele say was the best, you must look at his definition of a player. He valued longevity. He played professionally for over two decades, from 1956 to 1977. As a result: he rarely gave the crown to someone who only had three good seasons. He demanded a body of work. My advice is to stop looking for a name and start looking for the criteria. He valued heading ability, two-footedness, and mental grit. If a player lacked one of these, Pele would eventually find a reason to demote them in his personal rankings. It is an exercise in technical scrutiny rather than emotional fandom. (The irony of a man so emotional about the game being so cold in his analysis is not lost on us.)
Frequently Asked Questions
Did Pele ever officially name a number one successor?
He never signed a single document naming a definitive heir, but he famously claimed that Kylian Mbappe could be the new Pele after the 2018 World Cup. This was a rare moment of public succession. He saw the then-teenager score 4 goals in a single tournament, matching his own precocious impact from 1958. Yet, he usually preferred to say that "the new Pele will never be born" because his parents "closed the factory" after him. This playful arrogance was backed by three FIFA World Cup titles, a feat no other player has ever replicated. Data suggests he was more interested in protecting his own legacy than crowning a king who might actually surpass his 92 international goals for Brazil.
What was his real opinion on Cristiano Ronaldo?
Pele actually lauded Cristiano Ronaldo as the best modern goalscorer during an interview in 2020. He admired the Portuguese forward’s consistency and physical dedication. To Pele, Ronaldo represented the ultimate professional who maximized every ounce of his biological potential through thousands of hours of training. He famously stated that while Messi was a magician, Ronaldo was the more effective "finisher" in the contemporary era. However, this praise was often contextualized by the era, as he still believed the technical grace of the 1970s was superior to the athletic power of today. He saw Ronaldo as a machine, but perhaps not a poet.
How often did he mention George Best or Beckenbauer?
He had a profound, almost surprising, respect for the European defensive and wing play styles of the 1960s. He famously called George Best the finest player he ever saw, though some historians argue this was a polite compliment given during a trip to the UK. In short, he was a diplomat as much as he was a striker. Regarding Franz Beckenbauer, Pele viewed the Der Kaiser as the intellectual equal of any attacking player. He often remarked that the German's ability to transition from defense to attack was the hallmark of a true master. He didn't just look for goalscorers; he looked for architects of the pitch who understood the geometry of the grass.
The final verdict on the King's choice
The search for who did Pele say was the best is ultimately a fool's errand if you want a single, static name. We must accept that his answer was a living, breathing organism that evolved as he aged. But if we are forced to take a stand, let's be honest: Pele believed Alfredo Di Stefano was the most complete, while he felt a spiritual brotherhood with Maradona that eclipsed simple statistics. My position is that Pele’s "best" was whoever most closely mirrored his own obsessive pursuit of perfection. He was a man who saw 757 official career goals as a starting point for greatness, not a ceiling. He didn't want to find a successor; he wanted to find a peer who understood the loneliness of the summit. In the end, his silence on a final, definitive name is his greatest gift to football debate. It keeps the mythology of the 10 jersey alive for every generation that follows.