When the rather tedious discussions of who the greatest footballer is happen to arise, there is a fairly consistent cast of names to choose from. Unfortunately, Roberto Baggio’s is one which does not occur as much as it should.
Despite being quite clearly the best player in the world for much of the 90s, a very competitive decade, Baggio’s name does not perhaps hold the same universal weight as Maradona’s or Messi’s. This is also in spite of the fact that, despite the prodigious talents of the other two, Baggio’s raw natural gifts, in my eyes at least, outweigh theirs.
This is to take nothing away from the two Argentines, who are extraordinary talents, but Baggio’s effortlessness and grace sets him apart in this regard.
While he cannot boast a glittering trophy cabinet, few players can claim to have done so much with so little support. Not only did he drag a Juventus side from obscurity to the Scudetto, winning a UEFA Cup along the way, he did the same with Italy, famously falling at the final hurdle in the 1994 World Cup Final.
But that match, and that tournament, demonstrated not only Baggio’s genius, but his resilience too. He played out of position, under a distrustful, dogmatic manager, and played, as he did for much of his career, through severe pain. Any ordinary player would never have taken the field against Brazil in the final, but, such was his importance, Baggio had to.
No one can boast a more beautiful catalogue of goals, or a more perfect touch, or the ability to capture a footballing nation – and one as storied as Italy – so entirely. All of this means that, in the case of Roberto Baggio, one simply has to overlook any statistics, any accolades, any preconceptions, and just watch him play football. Because that alone would convince anyone of his greatness.
Photo Credits: “I cinquant’anni di Roberto Baggio, la leggenda Azzurra che ha stupito il mondo” by NazionaleCalcio is licensed under CC BY 2.0.