2nd of August, 1995
Palmeiras and Grêmio, two traditional football teams from different corners of Brazil, were about to kick off the second of a two game match up. Up for grabs: a coveted spot in the Libertadores semi-finals, South America’s highly contested Champions League equivalent which each year crowns a king of this football-living continent.
Both teams possessed strong, successful squads, with a slight edge to Palmeiras—riding a high after topping the Brazilian league back-to-back in ’93/’94 and benefiting from a fruitful sponsorship which helped attract many top tier players.
A week prior any perceived advantage Palmeiras had was effectively thrown out the window when they visited Grêmio for the first match, being thrashed by the humbling score of 5–0. This left Palmeiras chasing a total of six goals in the return leg, or an equal five to force a penalty shoot-out. As if that wasn’t enough to dampen spirits, the starting team had been heavily disfigured due to injuries and suspended players.
Parque Antártica — the beloved Palmeiras home ground — was at below half capacity, with only the most die-hard of supporters showing up to what seemed like an inevitable disqualification. These were the days when torcidas (akin to England’s football firms) still had free reign within stadiums, massive flags hoisted by bamboo poles dominated the landscape, and the constant sound of hypnotic drumming rang out like a battle cry.
Eight minutes in and what had already felt like an impossible mission became even worse. Jardel, the lanky forward who had scored a hat-trick in the first match, knocked in a corner to put Grêmio ahead, pushing the aggregate advantage up to six. Palmeiras now had just over 80 minutes to try and stage one of the greatest comebacks in football history.
“There are things which are within our power, and there are things which are beyond our power”
It was with these simple yet deceivingly profound words that the Greek philosopher Arrian opened up The Enchiridion, a compilation of tips from his teacher Epictetus on living the life of a stoic. In it he relayed that people should only concern themselves with things which are entirely within their control. By doing this, Epictetus argued, one would avoid lament, have no enemy, and live a life of unhindered tranquility.
Modern day stoic William B. Irvine expanded upon Epictetus’ thoughts surrounding concern and control by exploring the concept of external versus internal goals. He classified external goals as being those in which we have limited control over, as opposed to internal goals where we have an absolute say in the outcome.
Amongst Irvine’s examples was that of an aspiring novelist. The novelist has the option of concerning herself with external goals such as getting published, or instead directing her focus towards internal goals such as how hard she should work on a manuscript.
Irvine illustrated that by focusing solely on external goals we relinquish our definition of success to someone other than ourselves. We renounce power. Ultimately the novelist cannot guarantee her work will be published, that attainment will be up to the publisher.
On the other hand, by internalising goals, we become the masters of our own fate. The novelist is in complete control of how hard she works on the manuscript, keeping the onus to herself and no one else.
Focusing on internal goals also has the welcome benefit of spilling over into external performance; in the case of the novelist, her chances of getting published increase considerably if she were to follow through on her internal goal of giving it her all.
Cafu, crowned World Cup champion with the national squad the year prior, scored at the 29th minute to finally put Palmeiras on the board. Ten minutes later Amaral netted another for the team in green, with half time arriving much too quickly and four goals still in the way of a penalty shoot-out.
Back for the second half, Paulo Isidoro took advantage of a lightning fast counter attack to score the Palmeiras third at the 58th minute. Another ten minutes went by before Mancuso—a feisty long-haired Argentine sporting a mullet that would make the 80s proud—converted a penalty which put them within two goals of tying the aggregate.
By now the energy in the stands was peaking alongside the energy in the pitch, and the intensity of the game picked up considerably. At the 84th minute Cafu scored his second of the night, Palmeiras’ fifth, and had them within one goal of making history.
From here on out each minute that went by felt like just a few seconds for a Palmeiras supporter and had the length of eternity for the opposition. Grêmio shut down defensively as the game inched closer and closer towards stoppage time. And then—at the 90th minute—the Argentine Mancuso received the ball, opened some space, and from a good ten meters out of the box, took a shot towards goal...
Let’s break down what had happened thus far on that fateful night.
Due to the unfavourable circumstances in which Palmeiras players found themselves in leading up to the match, the usual external objective of qualifying had been downgraded and obfuscated by improbability. This wasn’t necessarily by choice but happened somewhat subconsciously considering the enormity of the disadvantage.
In its place, the internal goal of playing to the best of their ability took precedence as a last ditch effort to prove themselves following the shock result of the week prior.
That last shot’s trajectory was immediately imprinted on my fourteen year old mind. Not because it went in because, well, it didn’t. Palmeiras never scored that last goal. They didn’t qualify. But at the same time they succeeded. They had committed themselves entirely to the cause, their cause. They couldn’t control the end result, but they could control how much effort they gave in their pursuit. And in that, they certainly triumphed.
This approach had two positive knock-on effects. First off, it likely made them perform even better than if they had solely focused on reverting the absurd aggregate. Second, the sting of disqualification was lessened—yet certainly not cured—by the fact that in reality, they had given it their all and consequently achieved their internalised goal.
As the referee signalled the end of the game the stadium erupted in appreciation whilst players collapsed onto the pitch. If you had just arrived you would have assumed they had done it. The next day, newspapers not only congratulated Grêmio for advancing but also heaped immense praise on the dedication exhibited from the disqualified side.
Over the next two weeks both teams face each other again in the Libertadores for the first time since that dramatic night in ’95. Once again for a spot in the semis. And just as they did all those years ago, while aiming to win, may they also aim to play.
