Italy needs no introduction.
They're European champions and have won two World Cups.
And just like us, they'll do whatever it takes
to be the first three-time world champion.
They beat the host nation in front of their own supporters,
and then defeated West Germany in extra time.
People are calling it the game of the century.
They played full out for the entire match.
They're a tactical and extremely disciplined team.
They're not afraid to play ugly.
They went at Germany like they were at war.
Hey!
And when I say war, I mean this.
For them, football is a matter of life or death.
We need to play with that same intensity.
The same tactical discipline.
We finish what we start, no matter what.
-Pelé fails again. -He's not the same Pelé.
Whoever wins tomorrow will be immortalized.
Now it is our turn to take that trophy home for good!
There's one thing I'm sure of.
Our team has what it takes to win this.
-Am I right? -Yes.
It's all or nothing, boys.
-Yes! -We got this!
-Let's go, boys! -That's right!
Let's bring home this trophy!
-That's it, Gérson. -Look to the center!
PELÉ, MARRY ME!
-I'm open! -Concentrate!
Focus!
Spread out!
Keep scanning the field!
Watch behind you! Turn!
Félix!
What're those?
What are those?
My new gloves, Zagallo.
I'll wear them in the final.
In the final?
But why didn't you wear them until now?
All the other goalies are wearing gloves.
Jairzinho! Jairzinho!
Dadá! Dadá!
Jairzinho!
I wanna see you score in the final!
Yeah, break that record for us, Jair!
-Hurricane! -Appreciate it.
Ahh!
Let's go, Jair!
Hey! Send it!
Jairzinho!
-Let me catch it! -Here, Jair!
Go, Jair, go for the goal!
Ay, ay, ay!
Gotta do better than that.
-Fuck! -Come on, guys! More intensity!
Intensity!
Keep your eyes up!
-Hard pass! -Move it!
Come on! Get back on the…
No, no, Clodo…
Tostão!
-Tostão, cover for him! -Behind you!
-I got it! I got it! -I got Pelé!
Move up!
Come on, King! Gérson, make the run!
Wait, hey, hey!
-Hold up! Stop! -Stop! Wait! Hang on!
Riva, stop.
What's going on?
Hold up, guys!
-Hold up! -What'd you do, Fontana?
-Pelé's down. -What did you do?
Hey, hey. Film Pelé.
Film Pelé!
I'm rolling.
Noticeable tension at the pre-final session.
Looks like Pelé's been injured.
King's on the ground and visibly in a lot of pain.
That's enough. We're done for today.
Enough for today.
We're good.
-Félix. -Let's go.
Gimme those.
-Dammit. -The gloves! Gimme them.
What's wrong with them, Zagallo?
If it ain't broke, don't fix it.
Especially at this point. Gimme the gloves.
Trust me, Coach, it's better if I use the gloves.
You can wear them at Fluminense, not here. Gimme those gloves.
Easy.
The King looks pretty badly injured.
He might be out of the final.
He might be out of the final!
Is it possible that Pelé may not finish another World Cup?
Practice over! Let's go.
-All right. -Stay calm!
Saldanha! Please do me a favor and rein in that fucking pet journalist of yours.
Pet? Are you crazy?
He's just a little brat.
Some second-rate sensationalist wannabe.
Well, he was basically drooling when he… …saw Pelé leaving.
How's Pelé?
You know what caused it?
Bad juju is what.
But I'm, uh, taking care of it.
You should rest, you know? You look awful.
Same goes for the team.
No one rests until we take that trophy home.
Zagallo!
Try gargling.
Salt water.
He'll need a damn miracle.
-You're kidding. I can't believe it. -Yeah.
We got it on camera, man.
I swear to God, my guy caught the whole thing on camera.
His knee, Heitor. We saw Pelé's knee.
And it's… it's fucked.
You're sure about that?
-Yeah, I'm sure. -I don't believe you, man.
Pelé will play the final.
Mark my words.
Oh, you here to mess up my story again?
Sensationalizing a defeat before it happens is asking for trouble.
Even for an opportunist like you.
Listen.
-What's wrong with telling the truth? -I'd like to know too.
What's the problem? People need to know, don't you think?
No way to prove it. You'll just tear the poor guy down.
Sorry, what?
Weren't you the one who wanted Pelé off the team?
Or, to put it in your words, you said he was blind, right?
I never said that!
I'm not stupid.
And I'm not an eye doctor.
I'm the biggest supporter Pelé has anywhere in Brazil.
I only say what he needs to hear.
Deep down he knows I'm right.
Hmm. If you go too deep, you drown.
That guy's such a pain in the ass.
What's wrong, Doc?
Well, we can rule out any sort of inflammation or structural injury,
there's no damage to the joint.
It's just overworked, that's all.
The physical activity is taking its toll.
Your knee was in way worse shape in '58,
and you recovered just fine and did what you did in the final.
That's the thing, Mário.
I'm not really young anymore.
That's why we'll act quickly and start a preventative anti-inflammatory protocol
and some functional strengthening, okay?
Doctor…
-He'll be able to play, right? -Of course I will.
Even if it's the last time I'm able to play.
Okay, well, come on, boys. Let's let Pelé go rest up.
All right, let's go, move along.
This happens every World Cup.
Pelé, your problem's not your knee.
Whatever it is, kid, you've gotta deal with it once and for all.
It looks like someone died.
Don't say that, Rose.
I'm serious, it does.
I don't even have enough vases for all these flowers.
It's like people think you're a saint.
Everyone wants you to perform a miracle.
Come on, Rose.
I'm just a footballer.
Don't play the modesty card with me.
We're beyond that.
Come on, Dico. Gimme a break.
You know, baby, you're much more than that.
-You know, right? -Rose.
Listen, uh, your father wants to talk to you, okay?
We'll speak again later. Bye, sweetheart.
Dico! Hey, son!
Those Italians are tough, aren't they?
Don't let your guard down with them, understand?
Yeah, Pops, I know.
The final is for real stars, son.
Tomorrow, you'll become the first three-time world champion.
You're gonna prove everyone who counted you out wrong
and you'll bring that trophy home to us.
Pops, lemme talk to Mom for a bit.
Okay, God bless you, son.
Celeste! Hey, Celeste!
Hi, honey.
-Hey, Ma. -You've been in my prayers, son.
What's the matter?
Nothing, just the usual, you know?
Dico, talk to God.
He's always looked after you.
Pray, son.
Pray!
Come on, I won't take long, it'll be quick.
Pelé, the entire hotel is surrounded.
Pelé! Pelé!
Havelange, a blessing right now could be precisely what everybody needs.
What do you want me to do, Zagallo? You wanna put Pelé in the trunk of my car?
Even if I wanted to, I couldn't get him out of here.
And I don't wanna.
Please, Havelange.
I really need this.
You need what?
What is it now, Saldanha? You know you can't come in here.
Hey, man, take it easy.
I'm not here for room service or anything, I just came to check on Pelé.
-Okay? -Pelé's wonderful.
-Yeah? -See you at the final.
Come on, Pelé. Come on, come on, come on.
Always the loyal courtier, right, Havelange?
Come on, Pelé. Let's go, Zagallo.
Goddamn fucking puppet.
Hey, Saldanha.
You know how to buck the system.
Help me get out of here, will ya?
You do this kinda thing often?
Your friend's idea.
-Get in. -Will I even fit in here?
-Go, go. -Hang on!
WELCOME BRAZIL
Help!
Hurry! Dig faster. He doesn't have much air left! We need to find him!
Someone help!
Dig! Dig! He still might be alive!
Quickly! Quickly!
Hey. Still alive?
Cut the shit, Saldanha.
Come on.
"Long live King Pelé!"
Huh?
PELÉ WELCOME TO GUADALAJARA
LONG LIVE KING PELÉ!
MEXICO 70 LET'S GO, MEXICO
PELÉ WORLD CUP 70
WE LOVE YOU, PELÉ!
WE'RE NOT WORKING TODAY BECAUSE WE'RE WATCHING PELÉ
Are you sure you wanna go to church?
I know a great bar nearby. What do ya think?
Mm?
I thought your knee was messed up.
I thought atheists didn't enter churches.
I'm an atheist.
Not a vampire.
Are you praying to win the final?
I never pray to win.
What do you pray for, then?
I'd like to be alone, Saldanha.
Being alone's the last thing you need right now, in my opinion.
Why are you suddenly so worried about me?
I'm being selfish.
I know that Brazil needs you to win the World Cup.
Saldanha.
Not here, man.
Hm.
What are you afraid of, huh?
Hmm?
Tell me, c'mon.
Who am I talking to?
The journalist?
To João.
This stays between us.
And Him.
Dico!
When I was a kid, back in Bauru…
I'd play on dirt banks with friends.
They were riddled with holes,
kinda like little caves.
They were our special hideouts, where we avoided homework,
played with other kids.
Then one day, it rained cats and dogs.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!
Throw it back! Throw it back!
All I could think about was…
it could've been me, you know?
Help!
Down there! My boy's down there!
Help! Help! Keep digging, keep digging! My son's in here!
No!
Oh…
I understand why this story left a mark on you.
But it was coincidence, that's all it was.
There are no coincidences.
It's all written.
Written where, Pelé?
Inside of me.
From that day on, I knew I was in God's debt.
He spared me.
But being spared came at a price.
What do you mean "price," Pelé?
You're the King!
But I've never played an entire Cup.
I won in '58, but got injured in the beginning.
And then I failed again at the next two.
You didn't fail.
Brazil won one of them, and you got beat up in the other.
You couldn't even walk.
Well, that's the price, Saldanha.
It's the end for the King. Pelé has fallen.
I'm scared God won't let me see this World Cup through.
What if He's doing this
so you can achieve what nobody ever has before?
You don't owe anybody anything, Pelé.
Only one you owe is yourself.
I dunno, Saldanha.
-I don't know. -Well, here's what I know.
Everyone's gonna die someday.
I will die. Edson will die.
But if you win this World Cup, Pelé will be immortal.
VAPORIZING OINTMENT CAMPHOR
Oh shit, you guys are out here too?
What's going on?
Relax. Come sit down.
You guys need to get some sleep.
You need to get your voice back.
You're right.
Here, take my chair.
Thanks, Félix.
What about you, Zagallo?
You played two World Cup finals.
How'd you sleep before a game like this?
I don't know, because I never slept either.
Hey, speaking of sleep, look who decided to show up.
Dressed to the nines.
You good?
So, tell us, Pelé.
You awake this time or sleepwalking?
Sleepwalking, Clodoaldo. Duh.
There's a knot in my stomach that won't go away, you know?
So how are you like that?
All of us are stressed out and restless, but not Jairzinho, he's as cool as ever.
I was raised playing football, man.
Started at Severiano Stadium for Botafogo when I was little.
It was where I learned everything I know.
I lost my father very early.
Very young.
But I wouldn't be the player I am today
without my mother and everything she sacrificed.
I mean, how could I not be cool?
We're playing in a World Cup final, man.
The pitch is my home.
Football's my family, you guys.
I'm here for my family too.
For my daughter.
And I promised I'd win this for her.
Reaching the final is amazing,
but it's also cruel.
You've dedicated everything in your life to those 90 minutes.
And just one bad kick, and it's over.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, listen.
We can't know what'll happen tomorrow till it happens, guys.
It's no use losing our minds over it.
PC's right.
Let's try to sleep. What really counts is tomorrow.
-Let's go. -Time for bed.
Gérson, chill out, man.
-Go take a hot shower. -Rest up for tomorrow.
-See ya. -Pack it in.
Good luck in the final, gentlemen. Take care.
Gracias.
Félix.
What's up, Zagallo?
I can wear them?
Take them before I change my mind.
Thank you, Zagallo!
I got this.
I'm excited and nervous, you know?
Can't wait to play these Italian… their ass.
Yeah, this should be fun.
Hey, Félix. How are you feeling, man?
My wrists are ready.
Hello?
Hi.
João?
Hi, honey.
How're you all doing?
The kids are fine.
Nervous for the final?
No, I'm not watching the game.
Are you still on that, Thereza?
They planned a party in Brasília.
They planned parties all over the country.
If we win, they'll milk it to the last drop.
But honestly, if we lose, at least those vermin will pay for it.
"NO ONE CAN STOP THIS COUNTRY."
You'd really prefer we lose?
I know you.
No, I'm dead serious.
So am I.
No matter how much you try,
it's impossible to deny what you were born with.
-How's my hair, mom? -Ah! You're so dang cute!
Let's sit over there.
It's something that runs deep in every Brazilian…
for as long as we can remember.
It's always been that way.
WILL HE BRING THE TROPHY HOME?
Football is our history, it's the soul of every Brazilian.
It's much bigger than winning or losing.
It's about believing.
There! Turn it, turn it.
No, no, this way, this way.
Turn, turn. Stop it, wait, wait! There, there!
PELÉ IS KING
There we go.
It drives us crazy.
It makes us laugh, cry, hug strangers on the street.
We can't just ignore who we are.
It's days like these when we feel capable of anything.
Capable of dreaming, capable of taking risks,
and most of all, capable of winning.
And football doesn't belong to them.
It belongs to the people.
To us.
I had forgotten how good you are with words.
Well, yeah, how else was I supposed to win a woman like you over?
This is it, folks. Today's the day that decides the fate of our team.
What happens in the next 90 minutes could be life-changing.
Our King Pelé, along with our star-studded squad,
will stride onto the pitch in pursuit of glory.
Today, the world will have its first three-time champion.
The winning nation will take the Jules Rimet Trophy home forever.
They'll mark you man-to-man, so watch out, okay?
Each one of you will have an Italian breathing down your neck the whole time.
So how do we take advantage of that?
This guy, Facc… Fa…
-Facchetti. -Facchetti.
He's gonna stick to Jairzinho. That'll be good for us.
Well, if someone's shadowing Jairzinho,
-I can run to the edge of the box. -Yeah.
And I can move to the wing, which will drag my mark,
and that'll push the play to the byline.
But if you give me this opening here, I'm gonna go to town.
And if I drag Facchetti with me to the other side, I leave this area open.
Nice, Jair.
This game's ours. Let's claim it, boys.
Follow the plan and we'll be good.
We've come a long way. A very long way, folks.
But there's still one final step before we can truly make history.
Expectations are astronomical.
Our hearts are racing as we wait with bated breath
to see if the long-awaited dream
of a third world title comes alive today.
Joining me as always, one of Brazil's most beloved commentators,
João Saldanha.
My friends, finals aren't played, finals are won.
The sun is beating down out there.
This will be won by the team with the best conditioning and will power.
What?! No, you didn't just say that!
Where's Thereza?
She's more stubborn than João, you know that.
Now let's sing our national anthem together.
Boo!
Thereza!
-You ladies in the mood to celebrate? -Oh, you're here!
-Hi! -Looks like you caved, didn't ya?
It's actually the opposite.
I just decided not to give away what has been mine since I was a little girl.
-I'll be right in, okay? -Come on. It's about to start.
Excuse me, sir, can we get her a chair?
Mom, Mom, it's starting! Hurry up!
There you go, my brave people, the Brazilian national anthem!
And for those of you following along without color television,
Brazil takes the field in their yellow jerseys with green trim,
blue shorts with white stripes,
and white socks topped with yellow and green stripes.
South Americans against Europeans.
The Jules Rimet trophy at stake…
Attention, attention, my brave people,
the East German referee is seconds away from blowing the whistle…
…here at Azteca Stadium in Mexico City.
PELÉ IS KING
FÉLIX OUR STAR
And the whistle blows!
Rudolf Glöckner of East Germany gets us underway!
Brazil and Italy in the World Cup final. History in the making!
Italy is a tremendously tough and experienced team.
Brazil goes for the attack but they can't hold onto the ball.
Shake it off!
Get back! Mark your man, everyone, faster!
You can feel the tension in Mexico City.
And here comes Italy.
-Now Mazzola, he plays it to Gigi Riva. -Watch out!
Riva's in the clear, he gets set…
and shoots!
-Félix saves it! -Good job, Félix.
Brazil avoids an early setback thanks to a spectacular save…
-Pay attention! C'mon! -…from their goalkeeper.
I always told Félix to wear gloves.
And look. Beautiful save.
Now, all Brazil has to do
is stay laser-focused and do what they do best.
Italy's lined up for a corner, and the ball curls into the box…
The Brazilian defense clears it.
Gérson has the ball, long pass to Tostão… he advances… Oh!
Beautiful touch by Tostão, there we go!
He crosses into the box,
but it's cleared away.
It's a throw-in for Brazil, Saldanha.
That's football.
Talent, intelligence… That's how we'll score a goal.
Here comes Tostão, the Golden Boy from Minas,
-to take the throw-in for Brazil. -Hey!
Forget it, pal.
You won't be scoring any goals today.
Get off my back, man!
Tostão, here.
Tostão ready with the throw. He finds Rivellino.
Rivellino sends it…
Goal!
For Brazil, Pelé!
Ladies and gentlemen, he soared, he flew!
He rose into the air and, with a header, he sends the ball past Albertosi!
-Incredible! You did it! -This was yours too.
-You did that, brother! -Come on!
Pelé makes a statement!
Let's go!
Brazil one, Italy zero, Saldanha!
Even João Saldanha can't find the words.
The emotion at Azteca Stadium is extraordinary.
The crowd in Mexico City
erupts in celebration for our nation of Brazil!
Brazil! Three cheers for Brazil! It's one-nil, folks!
And to think that Pelé considered retiring, my brave people.
Brazil opens the scoring at Azteca Stadium in the eighth minute!
-Great goal! -Just take a look at the replay.
Look at that. Pelé jumped so high he had a word with the Man Upstairs
and still found time to come back down and score.
Did he fly?
-That poor defender would've… -Did Daddy fly?
-He flew, honey! Daddy flew! -Yeah!
And the match picks back up, folks.
It's absolutely wild at Azteca Stadium.
And the heat seems to amplify the emotions and anxieties of the entire nation.
Ninety million hearts are all beating as one.
Olé, olé, olé, olé Brazil, Brazil
Carlos Alberto quickly takes the throw-in.
Pelé receives it.
What a move! Pelé dribbles forward. He's--
Oh boy!
What the heck, dude!
That was a nasty foul, Italy's growing desperate!
Pelé is on the ground, clearly in pain.
If the referee doesn't put a stop to this, the game's gonna get ugly, João!
So much for European civility, huh?
They're roughing up Pelé like they did in '66.
Let's just hope the King is okay.
That should be a card!
Go, Mário. Go, Mário! Hurry up, go!
-Get up! -I'm hurt, I'm hurt.
I can't go on.
Leave him alone!
-Right here! -Go, go!
Please! I'm telling you, man.
-He can't do that. -The medic's not allowed, ref?
But he's hurt!
The referee is not allowing the medic onto the field, Saldanha!
I can't believe the ref is doing this!
Regardless, Pelé can't allow it to rattle him,
because this game is far from over.
Can you walk, Pelé?
Ah, damn…
The King gets up, but he seems to be in a lot of pain, João.
This is a nerve-racking moment for all Brazilian fans.
-This is bullshit. -Is Pelé okay?
It's hard to say, Zagallo, but the thing is,
in the last World Cup finals,
the team that took the lead ended up losing.
Shut up, you idiot! My God, Mário. Jesus fucking Christ!
The game is still tense here at Azteca Stadium.
Italy is increasing the pressure, pushing hard for an equalizer
before halftime. It's a tough game, João.
Whoever goes down today will go down swinging.
We're past the 35-minute mark of the match.
Brazil is passing the ball around in their own half.
Piazza to Brito. Brito heads it toward Clodoaldo…
Oh! A terrible mistake.
Italy surges forward, this is dangerous!
Félix is out of his goal… the net is wide open. What a mess!
Goal.
Goal!
Goal, goal, goal, goal, goal!
Roberto Boninsegna shakes Félix's net and scores.
It's all evened up, my brave people.
Keep your eyes moving, for fuck's sake.
They've gotta quit screwing around.
Clodoaldo handed that goal to them on a silver platter.
A regrettable mistake.
Truth is, Brazil just missed the opportunity
to end the half with pride.
Yes indeed, folks, it felt like
Brazil had the match in the palms of their hands.
But Roberto Boninsegna capitalized on our mistake…
…and sent the ball into the back of Félix's net.
What a way to take the wind out of Brazil's sails.
It'll be just like the semifinal in '38, when we lost to Italy.
They'll win two to one.
Shut the hell up, Nicolau!
Brazil now has to pick themselves back up
and regain the lead before the first half of the game's over.
Gérson prepares for the free kick…
A wonderful ball for Pelé!
But the referee blows the whistle.
Did Pelé commit a foul, Saldanha?
Ref's signaled for halftime!
This is outrageous.
He blew that whistle with 15 whole seconds left on the clock
with Pelé facing the goal.
Unbelievable. A very questionable call on his part.
Brazil seems to be up against everything and everyone today.
This is the World Cup final, for fuck's sake!
Don't you get it? There's no room for fuck-ups, man!
No fuck-ups today! We can't do that now!
-Listen. -Fuck!
Listen. Look at me. Look at me, damn it.
Look at me, damn it! This is the final!
-Hey! -Stay focused!
Hey, cap! Hey, chill out.
Relax, Clodoaldo.
Hey, hey.
Keep your head up!
Look at me.
I fucking trust you.
I trust in all of you.
I trust in you.
I trust in you. I trust in you.
There's a reason we're here, boys.
'Cause we deserve it.
You know that playing like that won't make us champions. You know that.
Listen guys, we've still got 45 minutes.
And whatever happens in those 45 minutes will stay with us forever.
I'm gonna go back out there and win.
Except I can't do that on my own.
So who's with me? Come on, team. Come on.
I'm with you, Your Majesty.
-Come on, who's with us? -Let's fucking go!
Clodoaldo. Keep your head up high, man.
-What's done is done, let it go. -Yeah, we got this. I'm okay.
-Move on, -Yeah, thanks.
-We've got 45 minutes. -Okay, man.
-Shake it off, man. -Try to clear your head.
Clear it. Hey, man, you're extremely important.
-Fucking amazing. -Come on.
Keep your head held high.
Keep your chin up, okay?
Maybe we're just kinda bad.
No.
No, listen. All of you, listen.
Feeling despair is just an impulsive reaction.
So keep believing.
-Always believe. -Okay, Mom.
-I expect we'll win. -Okay, come on.
Even though the score's tied,
-I'm optimistic. -It's Dad!
Hopelessness is too impulsive for my taste. I'd rather believe.
No way…
All right, folks.
We're back for the second half of this epic match.
After a brilliant start by our national team…
a slip-up by the defense handed Italy a lifeline.
Brazil, one. Italy, one.
Now the next 45 minutes will truly define this chapter in Brazil's story.
Will it be a glorious one or a tragic one?
I don't know about you, but I'm rooting for Brazil, folks!
And the whistle's blown by Rudolf Glöckner!
And the final 45 minutes of this decisive match are underway.
Riva!
Who will be the first three-time world champion?
Here comes Brazil. Pelé advances.
Gérson controls it beautifully.
This Brazilian side is not about to quit.
They want that Jules Rimet trophy.
Brazil moving the ball well on the attack.
Come on, Dico. Please, God, Please.
They regain possession of the ball.
Ten minutes into the second half,
and Brazil, despite seeing more of the ball,
still hasn't taken any real risks.
A very pragmatic game so far.
And if you don't take risks, you don't win.
Here comes Brazil.
Clodoaldo's got some space.
He sends it long for Jairzinho out on the wing.
Italy recovers well
and sends it back to their keeper.
And the final remains tied as the game
-struggles to find a rhythm. -We need to score.
Both teams playing it very safe.
-Here! -Brazil presses forward.
Good dribble by Rivellino, driving deep…
He stops and passes to Clodoaldo.
A one-touch to Tostão. Lovely turn.
He's gonna shoot!
Great save by Albertosi.
Almost a second goal for Brazil.
We're approaching the 65-minute mark of the second half,
and the two teams are still at an impasse.
Hey, Gérson. I'm going in there.
Pass me the ball.
You holding up all right?
Come on, man.
-I didn't jog every day for nothing. -Come on then.
And here comes Brazil again.
This team refuses to back down.
They want the victory, they want the Jules Rimet trophy.
Gérson on the ball, he sends it to Everaldo…
Brazil moving well in the final third.
-Everaldo to Jair… -Go, go!
…he pushes forward.
Jairzinho under pressure, he drops it back to Gérson.
Gérson winds up for the shot…
Yeah!
Goal!
Gérson!
Brazil! Brazil! Three cheers for Brazil!
That was fucking beautiful!
Brazil has struck again!
Brazil two, Italy one!
-It's happening, Saldanha! -You did it.
Sensational, simply sensational.
Gérson hit his chest and said, "Just leave it to me."
Brilliant goal by a football giant.
All right, everyone.
-Brazil's gotta protect their lead. -Olé, olé, olé, olé
-25 minutes left in the match. -Brazil, Brazil
I hope they learned their lesson after that first half.
Here comes Italy.
He moves in, lines it up, he shoots!
Félix makes the save.
A big scare for the Brazilian side, João.
Listen, my friend, I'm no expert in spiritual matters,
but they say the Man Upstairs is Brazilian.
He sure is. And Mexico is definitely Brazilian today.
The support for the Canary Squad in the stadium…
is thunderous, I tell ya.
And now Brazil is on the attack.
Easy. Easy!
Slow it down.
Zagallo, I'm never getting the fucking ball!
-Then move, Pelé's drawing them away. -I'm dropping deep.
-Figure it out, Jair. -Okay.
Italy plays rough.
The ref calls a free kick for Brazil.
Just wait, folks. Just wait!
We're almost there.
-Brazil's moving up. -I'll be open, just kick it!
Hold on to your hats!
Right here, thread the needle!
Here comes Gérson again…
…the Golden Lefty.
It's in! It's in!
-Oh my God, thank you, Jesus! -Goal!
Thank you, God!
You did it!
Goal!
Jairzinho! For Brazil, Brazil!
Three goals for Brazil!
Jairzinho!
He's now the first man
ever to score in every match of a World Cup tournament, João.
Today we bury the idea that Europe invented modern football.
Modern football should be beautiful and tactical at the same time.
And that, my friend,
is what we do.
-Brazil! -That's Brazil, folks.
Strength, skill, precision…
-Yeah! Dico! I love you! -…endurance…
…and plenty of heart on display
…in this final that is already beyond belief.
Let's watch the replay of that magnificent goal.
Gérson with a pinpoint pass to Pelé,
and Pelé sets up Jairzinho brilliantly,
who drives it straight into the Italian net!
Olé, olé, olé, olé Brazil, Brazil
I'm sorry, but it's hard to hold back the emotion.
Forty-one minutes, folks.
Italy coming forward, this match isn't over yet.
Take it away, Brazil! Good work from Tostão.
This is it, my brave people!
The closing moments here at Azteca.
Clodoaldo to Pelé, first touch to Gérson, back to Clodoaldo.
Well done, Clodoaldo!
He dribbles around one, around two. Beautiful, Clodoaldo!
He wants redemption.
-Leaves four defenders in the dust. -Keep your head up!
Straight to Jair, Jair, Jair. He's free.
Rivellino spots Jairzinho up ahead.
He gets the ball. Good play from Jair.
He brings it into the middle… passes.
Pelé, Pelé.
It's Pelé… He sends it to who now? Carlos Alberto!
Goal!
Yeah, man!
We're champions.
Goal!
Brazil, Brazil, three Cups for Brazil!
We're gonna be champions!
Oh my God!
Goal, goal! What a goal!
Brazil! Brazil!
I can't believe it!
-Everywhere around us… -Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
…people are screaming,
"Champions! Champions! Champions!"
Four goals! Four goals!
Four goals for Brazil!
One for Italy!
A masterful play!
What a perfect ending,
not only to this match,
where Brazil absolutely dominated, particularly in the second half,
but also to a truly extraordinary World Cup campaign.
This team left home surrounded by doubt…
but now they have conquered Mexico,
conquered the world, and will bring
-the Jules Rimet trophy home forever. -We did it! I can't believe it.
-I can't believe it! -No one can take this trophy
-away from the Brazilian people now. -World Cup Champions, fuck yeah!
Our people deserve it more than anyone else. More than anyone!
João Saldanha deserves it! João!
We all deserve it. We deserve it all.
And there it is.
That goal is a lesson in football.
You see, it teaches us the power of a collective.
They passed the ball back and forth,
and then Tostão controlled possession, and, at the very last moment,
let Pelé know that their captain was barreling in
like a freight train. That not just football, that's art.
History is being written here today.
This brilliant squad is now truly immortalized in our hearts, folks.
Once again, we are reminded of
-the beauty and pride of being Brazilian. -Brazil! Brazil!
Brazil! Brazil!
-Three cheers for Brazil! -Yes! We did it!
-It's over! -Come on, it's over!
Call it!
Oh!
Grab it! Grab it, get it, get it!
Wait! No, no, no! Hide the ball.
-What? -He'll have to blow the whistle.
I got you.
It's not here.
No. No, it's not here.
New ball! New ball!
What's going on? The game's over.
This remarkable journey is about to come to a close, folks.
Come on, Brazil. Come on, Brazil. Come on, Brazil.
Come on, Brazil!
The game is over!
We're champions!
-Ahh! -We won!
Ciao, ragazzo!
Yeah!
We did it my, friend! We're goddamn champions, Zagallo!
Brazil is a three-time football world champion!
We went through turbulent times, through difficult moments.
We rebuilt our confidence, regained our self-esteem,
and now we lift the trophy once again!
Hello?
Hey, my little princess!
Hi, Daddy!
You can tell your friends your dad doesn't have butterfingers.
-He's become a world champion! -Yeah!
My dad is champion of the world!
Today, Brazil smiles.
Move, move, move, move.
-And Brazil also cries! -Rivellino. Riva.
Riva, Riva!
Hey, buddy, can you hear me?
Cries tears of joy!
Brazil belongs to us!
Football belongs to us too!
Yeah!
-Oh my God! He's right there! -Tostão! Tostão!
Tears from those who have suffered and fought.
Brazil, Brazil, Brazil!
But today they feel the glory.
You're the best!
You're the best, man! Yeah!
We won! Oh my God!
The glory reclaimed by a squad that represents us.
That is the face of our people.
Champions! We are champions!
-Brazil! -Fucking champions!
And reclaimed by the greatest in the world…
Pelé.
A man many had written off as dead to football.
Now go tell them, folks. Tell the whole world!
Pelé, Pelé! Three-time champion, Pelé!
The King of football is Brazilian.
And thanks to him, today…
Today we are all kings.
Am I right, Saldanha?
What can I say?
The celebration speaks for itself.
This joy, my friends…
…is our weapon, our strength.
We are winners. I always believed in our people.
I always believe in Brazil.
What we all saw today
is proof of what we are capable of.
That's right, my brave people.
May João Saldanha's tears mark the start of a new era for the Brazilian nation.
And may his tears mark the dawn of a new day for our people.
Today we are proud to be Brazilian, dear viewers.
And proud to be witness
to one of the most glorious chapters in the history of this nation.
We're the champions! Champions!
We're the champions!
Pelé! Pelé! Pelé!
I'm not dead!
I am not dead!
The Czechoslovakian team forms a tight wall.
Seven men. There goes Rivellino, he kicks…
Goal!
Brazil scores! Brazil!
Czechoslovakia moves the ball through midfield.
Great tackle by Clodoaldo for Pelé.
Pelé at the center circle. He shoots straight at the goal!
And it scrapes the post!
A kick from midfield, gentlemen.
And they dared to say Pelé was finished.
Now Mexico bows before the King's brilliance, Jalisco Stadium…
Gérson, number 8, gets the ball and sends it to Pelé!
Pelé brings it down on his chest, strikes…
It's a goal!
Brazil's goal! Pelé scores!
A brilliant pass to Jair.
The goalie comes out. Jair is in, he shoots!
Goal!
Paulo Cézar on the left. He passes to Tostão.
Tostão controls the ball, gets away from his defender.
A cross pass coming in, Pelé brings it down!
Off to Jair, here comes a goal!
Goal!
Jair gives it back to Rivellino.
Rivellino, a beautiful pass to Jair. The goalie comes out.
He's in!
Goal! Goal for Brazil! Oh my God!
Jairzinho scores for Brazil.
He looks up. Passes to Pelé.
Tostão loses the ball.
Jair breaks away, what a great pass to him. Jair's in, he's going to score!
Goal!
Time is up, and Brazil is seeing a bright future ahead, beating Uruguay.
Here comes Tostão, he's free. Spectacular pass to Pelé! What a play!
He's going to score! He shoots! It's out!
What a fantastic play from Pelé!
And the Uruguayans were talking,
trying to mess with the Brazilian players' heads.
Talking about the Maracanazo. And Pelé almost scores a great goal!
The Brazilian Team. Clodoaldo. Good move from Clodoaldo.
Another dribble. He looks up! Great play by Clodoaldo.
Rivellino is by his side, Rivellino receives the ball.
Rivellino plays it long, the ball coming through. Jairzinho guarded by Facchetti.
From left to right, Jairzinho. The ball makes its way to King Pelé.
He passes to Carlos Alberto, he shoots and he scores!
Goal!
Carlos Alberto scores for Brazil! World Champions!
Celebrate, Brazilian fans. Celebrate!
We made it! It's time to celebrate!
Ninety million fans cheering together!
Living the thrill of lifting the trophy once again.
Tell the world, "We are Brazilian. We are champions!" to King Pelé.