Sándor Kocsis made an unexpected return to memory on a cold Friday evening this past fortnight; dragging it back by a couple of decades- to the eventful school days, to be precise. The name may not ring a bell even in the minds of diehard soccer aficionados of the day. Yet for one full fortnight 22 years ago, it had remained the most sought after for a gang of restless, information hungry school boys. Diego Maradona and the God were taking Mexico by storm. The reverberations of the Mexican wave they had triggered crossed the oceans and continents reaching even the remotest corners of the world. No wonder then that it had taken in the gang of star struck, soccer crazy kids just stepping into their teens.
They rarely got to watch a movie in a theater, never went to see soccer in the stadium nor did they get to see the live cricket action on TV. Yet they churned out screenplays by the dozen, of the movies they had never seen, gave ball by ball account of the cricket matches they had not been to, or eulogized the heroes in the wars they hadn’t witnessed; almost as if they were right at the hot seat seeing all the action by themselves. They impeccably recreated, through words and gestures, the sublime poetry of a “Rolls Royce” on his long rhythmic run to the wicket, or the supreme artistry in the execution of a Vishy square cut, or the meandering runs of a “Little Bird”, full of feints and shimmies leaving the best defenders infuriated or the “filthy” one-handed backhand from the magic wand of that “rebel with a cause” and of course his tantrums, each of which introduced the awe-struck audience to the art of genius in the field of action. As their imagination took wings, weaving the fascinating web of facts, fiction and fairy tales, the stars from different eras crossed swords, years before computer simulation actually allowed some of it, without people even noticing it. They were not liars, but great imaginers, adept at the art of weaving the web of tales, master story tellers and unfailing performers never short of an apt word or a suitable gesture at capturing the real thrill of the moment.
They had invented games too, to kill time at free hours. It was during one such game that Sándor Kocsis first descended in their midst. The word game they used to play around that WC season in ’86 required the contestants to give the name of a sportsperson starting with the first letter in the second name of the previously named star. When some one spelt out Slobodan Zivojinovic, a hush prevailed for a brief while. And then one of the contestants came up with the name Zandor Koksis. “Liar, liar” up went the alert crowd, very much aware of the gang’s ability to pluck names out of thin air. “There never was a sports man by that name”; the protests were vociferous and the pleas that there was a Hungarian soccer star by that name fell on deaf ears and was shouted down, al beit with a demand for evidence and a bet without the bookies.
Internet was not heard of, Google was not even an idea, yet they took it as a challenge and spent a whole day in the public library scrolling through the dusty back volumes of Sport Star and came up with the issue containing the mention of soccer star Sándor Kocsis. They had to give up their claim and lost a couple of sharpeners, yet they were greatly pleased to discover that he was no ordinary soccer player but a legend who had won the golden boot in ’54, scoring 11 goals, and the first player to score two hat tricks in a World Cup. He was the lesser known of the potent duo that formed the lethal striking force of the Mighty Magyars, arguably the most brilliant international team in soccer history.
Gradually he faded from memory, not figuring in any further stories, due part in the lack of awareness among the audience and part in the difficulty in pronouncing the name. He never came back, even in the innumerable quizzes or the discussions on greatness around soccer seasons, dominated by Pele, Pushkas, di Stefano, or Maradona. Nor did the name come up during the poignant moments of describing tragic heroes dominated by the Busby babes and Duncan Edwards1, Garrincha2 or George Best3. He was never praised alongside the prolific scorers like Pele, Mueller, Fontaine and Rolando. He was missing among the stars of yesteryears being felicitated at the subsequent editions of the world cup. He had vanished altogether from our soccer discussions which used to peak around WCs or the Euros.
Then suddenly, one day this past fortnight, he made a dramatic comeback through an article on the web, reviving fond memories of those old school day discussions. I turned curious and clicked away on the information, now available at my finger tips and discovered nearly 23 years from the game session during that unengaged Social Science period at school that Sándor Kocsis was indeed no ordinary soccer player, but a legend, in fact, statistically speaking, the most prolific striker the world has ever seen in the international game. He had scored 75 goals in 68 matches for Hungary at a phenomenal 1.103 goal/game, ahead of Gerd Mueller, the only other player with a goal a game average among players with a long international career. His partner and Captain Ferenc Puskás had kicked in 3rd in the list with 84 goals in 85 matches. He was also the most successful match winner among the international game’s greatest goal scorers, with an astounding 84.5% of his goals coming in winning causes, more than 4% clear off Pushkas, Pele, Ronaldo and Mueller. His record 2.2 goal/game in a single World Cup finals competition is still standing. Kocsis was also one of the earliest defectors from the communist block to the Western Europe when he moved to Spain where he represented FC Barcelona and he also finds mention in a poll ranking the greatest Barca players in history along side Cryuff, Ronaldinho, Maradona and Messi, in spite of having played for them way back in the 60’s. On his retirement as a player in 1966, he continued with the club as its coach. But his return to memory was through one list that we had missed out. The article was found on the sidelines on the report on a galaxy of German stars looking on as the coffin of colleague Robert Enke was being lowered to be near his two year old daughter’s. Those dusty back volumes in the Public Library didn’t tell us more than 2 decades ago that Sándor Kocsis also headed the list of soccer stars who had taken their own lives. His life and career had come to a standstill when he was diagnosed with leukemia and even as he was undergoing treatment, he was found to suffer from stomach cancer. And it was through the fourth floor window of the hospital in Barcelona where he was undergoing treatment that the Magnificent Magyar had disappeared on July 22 1979, aged 49.
Soccer, unlike Cricket, is not a statistician’s game. Sándor Kocsis, it is said, was a magnificent finisher, very strong, great at positioning and most of all brilliant in battles on air. Even as another WC season triggers debates, discussions and speculations; there is, it appears, no current soccer player who is anywhere near the Golden Head’s Bradmanesque strike rate. And on those terms, Sándor Peter Kocsis will continue to remain the greatest striker in the international game’s history for a long time to come.
1. “What time is the kick off against Wolves, Jimmy? I mustn't miss that match”
2. “who lived in the woods had bent legs who was totally unmarkable and who could dribble like the devil”
3. “Don't die like me”
