There is a hypothetical question for a thoroughly hypothetical age: what if Pelé or Maradona had been born in a country whose national team sits outside the top 100 in the world rankings? Would either of them — with all the talent they possessed — have produced the same legacy for which they are known?
There is a school of thought that holds that the language of numbers in football does not necessarily reflect the language of justice in the game, particularly given that football is a collective sport in both performance and results. Yet in recent years, statistics have all too often been turned into a marketing tool that strips away context, artistic value, and the historical circumstances from which numbers — especially scoring records — are born.
At the World Cup, the most popular tournament in the world, when statistics are placed under the microscope of relativity and temporal effectiveness, the map of legends changes entirely — without diminishing their worth or standing.
When Germany's Miroslav Klose broke the record of Brazil's Ronaldo — known as "O Fenômeno" — to become the all-time top scorer at the Brazil 2014 World Cup, those clutching the goal counter overlooked the fact that Klose scored 16 goals across 4 tournaments and 24 matches, while "O Fenômeno" scored his 15 goals across 3 tournaments and 19 matches — meaning his goals-per-game ratio was higher relative to the number of matches and minutes played.
And if we take relativity to its furthest extreme, we find that the figures of Hungary's Sándor Kocsis (11 goals in 5 matches at a single World Cup) and France's Just Fontaine (13 goals in 6 matches at a single World Cup) are the most extraordinary in the history of the game, having been achieved at a single tournament with a scoring rate of 2.20 goals per match for the former and 2.16 for the latter — a level that no one in the modern era has come close to, despite the increase in the number of teams and matches.
Quantity and quality
There is a second flaw in evaluation criteria: the dominance of quantity over quality, and the disregard for the calibre of opponents and the manner in which a goal is scored. Sporting logic cannot accommodate the notion that equal value be assigned to a goal scored against a national team making its first appearance at a tournament — lacking experience, top players, and occupying the lowest rungs of the international rankings, or suffering a defensive collapse in a group-stage match — and a goal scored past a world-class goalkeeper at the peak of his powers in a knockout round or a World Cup final.
Equally, the creative and physical value of a played goal — one resulting from a tactical sequence or an individual piece of skill involving the beating of 3 or 4 defenders under pressure and in tight spaces — far exceeds that of a penalty-kick goal, or even a free-kick from just outside the penalty area, or a goal that results from the ball deflecting off a player and into the net.
This fundamental distinction must be noted when analysing tournaments and tallying the goals of a player who scored half his World Cup goals from the penalty spot, as opposed to another striker whose goals are all or mostly from open play.
The flower and the roots
The third and most important side of the triangle of "evaluative justice" is this: viewing goals scored at World Cup tournaments as a list of equal value amounts to a reductive injustice towards football and towards the players who serve as unknown soldiers — contributing, creating, and preparing — only to be written out of the statistical ledger in favour of the player who applies the final touch inside the net.
It must be acknowledged objectively that goals are not merely numbers to be added and subtracted. How they are treated should take into account the number of tournament appearances, the number of matches played, the level of the opposing teams, and the manner of scoring.
Football, at its core, is a collective, orchestral game — not an individual sport like tennis, where the effort and the reward converge in a single player's hands. Isolating a striker from the system that feeds him and creates chances for him amounts to a personalisation of the game, turning it into a competitive and commercial rivalry between "individuals" rather than between "systems".
A goal is ultimately the final touch to a product manufactured by the entire team — the flower that cannot bloom without roots, stems, and leaves. In a cohesive, star-studded environment, the probability of the ball reaching a striker in an ideal scoring position increases, and effectiveness becomes the natural result of a well-integrated unit.
Conversely, when an exceptional striker plays within a disjointed or weak system, he is forced to drain his physical and technical energy on roles that are not his own: dropping deep to receive the ball, attempting to break through compact defensive lines alone without support, and shooting under the concentrated defensive pressure of opponents who dedicate all their energy to stopping him.
But to return to the starting point: doing justice to strikers requires factoring in the quality of their teammates and their opponents as evaluation criteria, and taking into account how many genuine chances the system created for that player and the individual effort he expended to score each goal.
The spotlight and the platform
Ignoring this factor lends a commercial character that bestows the spotlight on those who have the platform, while wronging exceptional talents playing in a modest footballing environment where they found no supporting system to translate their genius into figures fit for marketing.
Looking to deeper criteria in evaluation does not mean pulling stars from their skies; talented and gifted players attract attention and earn admiration regardless of raw numbers stripped of meaning and quality.
In any case, these ideas and proposals are not binding on the fan, who is free to support whichever player they wish. Generally speaking, supporters of stars and clubs are not guided by general criteria, nor governed by any "sporting constitution" — they have their own moods and personal passions when it comes to admiration. If it were otherwise, the player with the highest numbers would command the consensus of millions.
Making a substantial adjustment to the mechanics of evaluation may be technically difficult — but it is not impossible, particularly since the language of relativity brings criteria as close as possible to justice, without being required to achieve absolute justice.
To restore the primacy of pure sporting logic, it has become necessary to formulate a "real value index" that transcends non-sporting calculations. This beautiful game is an outlet and a pleasure for everyone, and riding the winds of marketing and sponsorship criteria should not turn the "manufacture of legends" into a goal that takes precedence over sporting justice. It is not merchandise in a market selling attractive headlines, nor an auction for breaking abstract records.