IF I STEP ON A FIELD, I WILL STILL DO IT...
— Unknown | 27/12/1959 —

Friedenreich: Is it true that you saw me play?

— Yes, but I was young.

Friedenreich: I was too. But I still am, without hiding the years. Sixty-eight on the way and look, look, how physical. Not an ounce of lard. Just 4 kilos more than when I played. Fifty eight...

— So you weighed fifty-four?

Friedenreich: Yes. Thin and tall. One meter and seventy centimeters. Big advantage being light. It makes all my movements easier, as well as natural agility, which I still retain. I don't worry, because if I enter a field, I'm capable of doing my little things...

— I fear for you. You can get boneless...

Friedenreich: More? Impossible. I have fractures for all tastes and all models. At 18 I was under threat of having my left leg amputated. See this seam? Result of several operations. This shorter arm, the result of two fractures. Left shoulder dropped? Twice it was about to fall. Two broken ribs and a lot of scars on my body, a tribute to that passion I have always felt for football.

— Where did you learn to play?

Friedenreich: In the best school: the street and, as you say, en los potreros. There we had to be ingenious to come up with a ball of cloth, a sock full of paper and rags or a ball with an air chamber filled with air, always uneven, forcing us to guess the velocity and direction. Fifteen, twenty, thirty against thirty. Soon, later at the "Germany School", now more organized, with responsibility and a sense of teamwork until I learned, by miracle.

— How by a miracle?

Friedenreich: Of course! One of the teachers saw that I was using only one leg, the right one, offered me a ball at the same time he said: "Go to your house, mark a gate with a piece of coal on the wall and kick it permanently, without worrying about the direction, but always with your left left". I followed the advice. At three months I didn't notice any difference between one leg and the other. That's why I affirm and reaffirm that a one-legged player cannot be an ace.

— Have you always been a centre-forward?

Friedenreich: I started as an inside left. A position like any other. And I played as long as I could, in that position; the first international came and they put me in the center of the attack. They said that I moved better, that I was faster and that, in addition, due to my agility, I could take advantage of the centers to head. They were not mistaken. And I didn't let them down. I fully responded.

— What was your characteristic?

Friedenreich: Dominate before being dominated. Create the problem. Against defences where the toughness was incredible, I faced them, speculated with my mobility and, gaining any advantage, left them standing still. Against technical defenders, you had to think carefully about what to do. There it was convenient to come from behind, in collaboration with the inside forwards, to move the ball a lot towards the wingers and, as soon as the defenders left their positions, moving, I entered, but not always shooting on goal. I would prefer the best placed, in an advantageous situation, to do so. There was a full spirit of companionship in all of us, both at clubs and national teams. No selfishness or vanity. All for one, and one for all.

— According to Piendibene, you were the best centre-forward he has seen in his life.

Friedenreich: The great master's concept is lovely, but I cannot accept it. There were great players in South American football. Gabino Sosa, Laterza, Piendibene, Carlos Scarone, Petronilho. All wonderful. Each one playing a different style and improvising on the pitch. Mental speed mattered a lot. We all had it. About sixty percent was improvisational action; the rest, as a whole. Of course, men were immortalized. Take a look: Petronilho had to wait almost ten years for me to retire so he could replace me in the national teams. When they appointed him, the fans, who make the idols and have the say, cried out for me. There was no way to explain that I was coming down and he was going up, asking for the path to definitive consecration. In Spain, playing 14 games, we won 10, drew 3 and lost 1. In Spain, as I said, I saw a great forward — Samitier — wonderful, worthy of being considered among the best of the world. He didn't look European, but South American. I still remember how difficult he made our lives in the game against the national team, which tied by two goals. And Zamora? What a goalkeeper! We did a real bombardment. We counted more than forty shots and the goals we had to make were almost close to him, in individual plays.

*   *   *

— Where else did you play?

Friedenreich: In Italy. They drew with the team, by three goals, but nothing caught our attention in Italian football. There was hardness without technique and without outstanding values. In return, Uruguay had an excellent attack. They talked a lot about ours, with Milon, Neco, me, Heitor and Vega or with Ministrinho, Neco, me, Heitor and Silveira. But we were no better than Maran, Héctor and Carlos Scarone, Gradín and Romano. This was a soap opera attack!

— Do you still watch football?

Friedenreich: Now, yes, I have reconciled. I was absent for ten years. Don't ask me reasons and I'll explain them. I abandoned the veterans in 40. Our football was so mine that I promised not to return to a stadium again. I understood the purpose, but the 50 World Cup came and my affection, my passion, everything turned into a desire to return to the field, converted into a spectator, not as a critic, which I was not and will never be. How much I regretted it! I was an advocate of the need to change everything, men, managers, technicians, systems. I insisted, and my voice of protest, added to that of many, produced the miracle. Of course, I don't share professionalism. I don't believe it's real. Men materialize, virtues disappear, defects emerge and how many hardships leaders go through dealing with those who only see the cash register. Before there were no bruises, no pain, no resentment. Now there are them every day. The slightest inconvenience makes them mess up. In my time there were about eighty percent values for selections. And now? We didn't even find them with a flashlight...

— Is it defence of your amateur status?

Friedenreich: It's defending a concept that has disappeared among players. I support it in every discussion that arises, in every round table, in every opportunity to express it...

— Were you technical director?

Friedenreich: Never and never will be. I don't have the spirit or capacity for that. When I left football, I did not occupy any position, except this one, the current president of Mutual of Ex-players. It is free, honorary and, in addition, allows you to renew memories almost permanently.

— What do you think of Domingos da Guia? What do you think of Leônidas and the unfortunate Heleno de Freitas?

Friedenreich: Domingos, exceptional. He started when I was finishing. It's impossible to ignore him, but ask him how many times I complicated him in the afternoons when we faced each other. He won't lie. Petronilho was superior to Leônidas, more of an executor and less of a technician; Heleno, perhaps the last of those who were truly centre-forwards and with superior conditions than Leônidas, according to my opinion.

— And the current ones?

Friedenreich: Yes and no. There is a lack of understanding, even among fans. Pelé is positive, I don't deny it, and he is the one who executes, and logically, the one who receives the applause and the clamor of the fans. And those who work for him? For example, in Santos, Pagão is exceptional, hardworking, skillful, intelligent, but without physique. He prepares all the goal plays that Pelé wins. Nobody mentions him in terms of the young and already renowned international forward. I don't like the current values, with exceptions. Didi was already declining. It is necessary to produce, and this will benefit everyone, a removal of men, which is very feasible because we work hard and well in the clubs.

*   *   *

— Let's keep talking about you. What memories do you have?

Friedenreich: A truly wonderful one, in a safe. 250 gold medals, awards all for my performances in different fields and the only payment received in my entire football career. Another unforgettable one: having visited more than twenty cities in Brazil, requested especially by the fans, who wanted to see me.

— Do you have children?

Friedenreich: Only one. Oscar.

— Does he play soccer?

Friedenreich: He tried, but he didn't like it. He exchanged the gate of a field for that of the violin. He is a music teacher and, they say, a good pianist.

— Did he have the conditions?

Friedenreich: How could he have, if instead of going to the fields he went to concerts?

When professionalism was implemented in Brazil in 1933, the directors of C.A. Paulistano decided to no longer intervene in the championships. The motto "Sport for sport's sake" had been fulfilled and Friedenreich was in a position to choose his future. He gave his word to the president of São Paulo and went to his field to participate in training with his future teammates, being surprised when he saw them with numbered shirts on their backs.

— What's that? — He asked.

A manager responded:

— A measure adopted by all clubs to facilitate the referees' task of identifying litigants and avoiding mistakes, such as crowding of players, hands other than those of the goalkeeper, disputed fouls, in short, anything that is abnormal. This way, we will allow perfect individualization.

Fried replied:

Friedenreich: It seems to me like I'm in a prison. Each player looks like a recluse with their fatigue on their back. 41... 103... No! Never! Never! For nothing in the world would I wear one of those. Get to know it now. I want mine to be as clean as all my conduct. I am an amateur, who has never received and will never receive a cent to play. I play because I like it. That's the price I demand. Agreed?

And for five years, the entire Brazilian fan base identified Friedenreich as the only player with a shirt without a number and the only amateur in professionalism.