As football fans throughout the world mourn the passing of the Brazilian master Pelé, James Spence recalls a magic moment from his career.

The Disappearing Act

No one was ball-watching that day,

not one of the Uruguayan players,

not the commentators or football analysts,

the thousands that filled the Jalisco Stadium in Mexico,

the many millions of television watchers around the world,

the day that Pelé made to collect Tostao’s through pass,

to dribble it left of the advancing keeper.

No one was watching the ball,

no one was caught ball-watching, but man-watching

when Pelé swerved around that last man standing.

We were all swept along by the famous figure in yellow

with his furious feet going a blur,

that seemed to be able to do anything with a ball.

It was several split-seconds before anyone saw

he didn’t have the ball. Had he made it disappear?

Another split-second or two of held breath. He couldn’t have. Surely?

We know now, but even watching now,

after as many repeats as we care to watch,

our senses can hardly take in what our eyes are seeing.

Did the ball only reappear

when Pelé latched on to it behind the flummoxed goalkeeper?

We know now that Pelé went one way

whilst leaving the ball to travel untouched the other

behind that dummied, helpless goalie.

That Pelé subsequently dragged that ball just past the far post

takes nothing away from the sleight of foot, the audacity of the move.

How many other missed goals can we say that for?

How many missed goals do we even remember?

How many other greatest players have we seen

make the ball disappear?

I never tire of that Pelé magic.

James P Spence