by In the Monty Python sketch Philosophers’ Football Match, first broadcast in 1972, two teams of history’s greatest thinkers are pitted against each other in a battle of wits. The Greeks – Aristotle, Epicurus, Diogenes – are opposed to the Germans, whose team includes, along with Hegel and Nietzsche, a certain Franz Beckenbauer.
It was, of course, a joke, a comedy sketch that satirized the self-importance of television commentators, among others. But it was a mistake to include Beckenbauer in the lineup. For Der Kaiser, as he was known, there was a reputation for footballers like no other, certainly no English, who went far beyond the boundaries of the game. He was seen as a deep thinker, a tactical revolutionary, a modernist; the first man to make it clear that the brain is the most important muscle available to any player. And with his death at the age of 78, the game has been removed from the last generation of players who, as they came to prominence and the game was televised around the world, changed the way we respond to football for the better: Pele, Maradona, Cruyff, Best, Charlton and now Beckenbauer are gone. Although there is an argument that Der Kaiser was the most influential of them all.
No one else, for example, had the distinction of winning the World Cup as a player and manager. He also won the Bundesliga on the pitch and in the dugout. That is a club-and-country double that only Didier Deschamps can match. Furthermore, as chief executive of the German FA, he was instrumental in the behind-the-scenes deal that brought the World Cup finals to his home country in 2006. A little too important as it turned out.
But more than anything, Beckenbauer represented the rebirth of his nation’s game, helping to turn it into the modern, innovative and creative football superpower it is today.
He was born in the most remarkable of circumstances in the battered ruins of Munich in 1945. He joined Bayern as a junior in the early sixties at a time when, hard to believe now, they were relegated to the West German second tier. football Originally a midfielder, he changed his game slightly as he developed physically to become a ball-playing midfielder. And as he did so, he took the tactical initiative, setting the game plan for his side: in many ways, he popularized the idea of the football quarterback. The way he took possession of the ball from the goalkeeper, while walking forward into the middle of the field, his intelligent and persuasive running, may seem standard now, but at the time it was pioneering. He was also successful. He captained Bayern not only to promotion, but quickly followed that to four Bundesliga titles in a row, not to mention three European Cups on the bounce.
Tall, elegant, infused with indefinable hauteur, he had a confidence that was contagious. From the moment he made his international debut at the age of 20, scoring against Sweden in a 1966 World Cup qualifier, he seemed to have found his calling. In the 1966 final he was West Germany’s standout player, even when his team lost to the hosts. But he got his revenge four years later. Initially, in their quarter-final meeting, he and Bobby Charlton denied each other a goal, distracting each other. But he got the better of his English team-mate by scoring a goal that started Germany’s second-half comeback from 2-0 down. In the semi-final of the tournament he showed he was nothing more than a football thinker by bravely refusing to come off the field after dislocating his shoulder, with his arm heavily bandaged, battling through extra time in a long-overdue attempt against Italy the day. considered one of the best World Cup tussles ever. His failure to do so did not diminish his worldwide fame.
Nor did his influence end. In 1972, he captained West Germany to victory in the European Championship. Then two years later in the 1974 home World Cup, he outsmarted his Dutch counterpart, Johan Cruyff, another great football brain of the time, to lift the trophy. He had some career with him die Mannschaft: He earned 103 caps for West Germany, before retiring from the international game in 1977.
Suddenly, our lives are not what they used to be – darker, quieter and worse. The record champions are mourning the loss of Franz Beckenbauer, the incomparable ‘Kaiser’ without whom FC Bayern would not be a club today.
Rest in peace, Cashier.
— FC Bayern Munich (@FCBayernEN) January 8, 2024
It was his great reputation that brought him to the United States at the dawn of the field. Encouraged to think he could revolutionize American sport – not to mention the added bonus of a $1 million-a-year contract – he joined Pele at the New York Cosmos. At first, he played his usual game, sweeping up, putting out fires, encouraging others. Steve Ross, the president of the club, was not very happy with what he saw. Midway through the half he called Gordon Bradley, the team’s English coach, to his box and demanded to know why the man who was paying big bucks was “lurking around the back of the team”. Bradley was, like most Englishmen, a man of Beckenbauer’s talent. “It’s the way he plays,” he replied. “No one does it better.” Ross was not impressed: “We don’t pay a million dollars for that. Tell him to put his ass first.” Bradley faithfully complied and asked his superstar to play at center forward. Beckenbauer politely but firmly refused.
It was telling that, while the English football establishment snubbed – and shamefully – sidelined its own urbane stylist Bobby Moore, the German hierarchy warmly – and rightly – embraced Beckenbauer. When he returned from his trip to the United States in 1984, they counted him as the man to rescue the national side from a period of comparative decline.
And they were right. Maybe he had no coaching experience, maybe he didn’t deserve any badges, but in a way he was setting the strategic program during his playing career. He reorganized the side, laying down strict tactical guidelines. It was under his clear supervision that West Germany reached the final of the 1986 World Cup, eventually losing to a Maradona-inspired Argentina. But then, as he did in 1970 after finishing second in ’66, he got quick revenge, leading his team to victory over Diego and crew in 1990. It was the last game before reunification. , the last game as West Germany. How fitting that the country’s best sporting ambassador should be at the helm.
This was followed by a brief stint managing Marseille in France (fans protested because, not being able to speak French, he insisted on conducting press conferences in German) before Beckenbauer returned to Bayern, leading the club to the Bundesliga title in 1994 and the Uefa Cup. two years later. He then had spells as president of Bayern and vice president of the German Football Association.
And it was then that his determination to bring the 2006 World Cup to his home country took an unhappy turn. The competition itself was a victory, even if the hosts were beaten in the semi-final. But nine years later, as part of their investigation into widespread football sleaze, Swiss prosecutors questioned him in March 2017 over suspected corruption related to the bid. But, sadly, this was not the first time he was involved in such terrible dealings. In 2014, he served a 90-day suspension from all football for failing to assist an inquiry into alleged wrongdoing in the 2018 and 2022 World Cup bids, when he was on Fifa’s executive committee that made the awards. His reputation for being part of Fifa’s rot that clung to him in his later years made him a tougher opponent than even Cruyff or Charlton.
But when he died he is best remembered as one of the smartest footballers ever. Monty Python was calm, relaxed and dignified on the field. He was the best thinker in football, the true philosopher of the game.
