Edmundo — Loyalty, Trickery And Representation
Idolatry is something very specific, but easily confused with admiration, respect and even devotion — it is different. I am a devotee of Marcos and Evair, I admire Rivaldo and Djalminha, but my great idol was Edmundo. It was that he represented me in the field with all his madness. He was a Brazilian striker of the 90’s; could be the 9, the 10, the 11 and the 7 (the number he always sported).
If he came out today he would be one of those aggressive midfielders, a groundbreaking striker or a winger playing with the foot changed setting in the middle. But in addition to the drives, “the Animal”, as Osmar Santos would say, was “ultra competitive,” a pushing horse without the ball and a crazy madman appearing behind the enemy lines. Over time he was losing physical power, but gaining in refinement of gestures, and turning more and more into a goal scorer. Off the pitch he was always an almost infinite sum of problems, getting involved in the saddest and most serious of situations, and that’s where the moral of his story is: despite all the extra field questions, when he wore his shirt and came on the pitch, he became the most loyal heart warrior in the world. Loyal, not always with the opponent, but always with the guy shouting his name on the bleachers. And I was one of those.
Already in the twilight of his career, he returned to his former club — by then a extremely modest side — Palmeiras, very different from the “galactic team” of the 90s, but that was no reason for Edmundo to be less loyal to it. 99, this is the number of goals from Edmundo for Palmeiras. Yes, what could have been the symbolic hundredth never came. Because Edmundo is a story that has not climaxed, it’s a beautiful song without a chorus. It was not a unanimous idol in any of the teams he played for, despite being a monster in Vasco and Palmeiras. He was not relevant on the national team, or great on European soil, despite the opportunities.
In my adolescent memory, the image of the struggle and the representation remained. And at the most important moment in the life of every Palmeiras fan over 35 years old, is that he was the one who suffered the penalty shot scored by Evair on June 12, 1993 — the end of a row of 16 years without titles. And it was with claw, with struggle and a hint of trickery. Edmundo was above all the fan on the field: He fought, he dribbled, he ran. Nothing more could be demanded.
