Monday, January 06, 2025
The Professor in Spite of Himself, Part 1
"Good morning, Professor!"
The 23-year-old being addressed in these terms by his new charges, the members of a national football team, didn't know what to say. He was no professor. He had never been a coach before, let alone a national team coach. He had never even played competitive football himself, at any level. And last but not least, he was over 5,000 kilometres from home.
Yet some fifty years later, perhaps no-one in football would deserve the title of "Professor" more than he. By that time, Carlos Alberto Parreira had taken five separate national teams to the World Cup, and had won the ultimate prize with one of them. Furthermore, he had been part of the backroom team that had fostered the success of the most memorable World Cup winners of all, the Brazilians of 1970. He had saved the club he supported as a boy from relegation (his proudest achievement, or so he claimed). And he had left a legacy of football professionalism and knowledge that made him a hero in many countries throughout the world.
But every journey has to start somewhere. And this is the story of Carlos Alberto Parreira's early steps in the world of jogo bonito.
It goes without saying that Brazil's World Cup wins in 1958 and 1962, and the style in which they were achieved, made them a cynosure for all developing football nations. And the part of the world that was the most anxious to develop as rapidly and impressively as possible, in those days of decolonization, was Africa.
Ghana, formerly known as the Gold Coast, was one of the first African nations to become independent, in 1957. Its charismatic leader, Kwame Nkrumah, saw the country as a potential beacon for the rest of the continent; a prosperous, successful modern nation in hock to neither of the Cold War superpowers. As with so many other charismatic leaders of the era, he looked to sport as a potential symbol of the country's progress. Following Brazil's second successive stylish World Cup victory in 1962, Nkrumah sent the new national coach, Charles Kumi ("C.K.") Gyamfi, to Brazil's national team camp, on a mission to study their tactics and training methods.
Gyamfi was a pioneer himself. One of the first Africans to play professional football in Europe (at Fortuna Dusseldorf), he was perhaps Africa's finest player throughout the 1950s, and his professional experience made him a natural choice to be the national coach upon his retirement. And Nkrumah's plan came to fruition when, following Gyamfi's return from observing the world champions' preparations, Ghana won the nascent African Nations Cup in 1963 and 1965.
But the Ghanaians' ambitions didn't stop there. Impressed by the Brazilians' thoroughness in preparing their players physically as well as tactically for the big tournaments, the Ghanaians decided to recruit a trainer who could enable their players to compete with hardened professionals at the top level. 1970 was to be the first World Cup with an assured qualifying place for the African confederation, and various old and new African nations had a covetous eye on it. Ghana was no exception.
So it was back to Brazil, this time in search of a fitness trainer, preferably one with real expertise, plus the energy of youth. The Brazilians at the Foreign Ministry, known as Itamaraty, consulted a respected trainer called Admildo Chirol, who was attached to the Botafogo club and had taught at the renowned Physical Education school in Rio (an offshoot of the Brazilian army). Were there any good young physical trainers around? Yes, said Chirol. There was his star pupil of a few years before, a certain Carlos Alberto Parreira, who was working as a physical trainer at the Sao Cristovao club at the time. What's more, Parreira spoke tolerably good English - and Ghana was a former British colony.
Parreira was duly approached. Would he like to work in Africa? Yes, replied the adventurous youngster. Could he go more or less immediately? Yes.
Within less than a fortnight, armed with a diplomatic passport and a self-confidence which belied his years, Carlos Alberto Parreira stepped into the unknown.
More in Part 2.
