Even the phrase “the greatest footballers of all time” is an invitation to debate: in football, there is no single objective finish line at which a ranking becomes permanently “correct.” Eras, rules, playing styles, training conditions, and the sport’s global reach differ too much. Still, the topic can be approached in a journalistic way if it is treated as a comparison of impact, quality, and context — not as a final verdict. From this perspective, the key narrative lines run from Pelé, who shaped football as a global stage, to Lionel Messi, whose career unfolded in a highly measured and media-saturated modern era. For newsrooms, agencies, brands, creators, NGOs, and educational institutions, this story is also social and cultural history — and often visual history, because iconic moments become recurring images in the media.
Start Your Editorial Content Planning for the FIFA World Cup 2026
The key World Cup projects are being prepared now. Leave your details, and a dedicated specialist will get in touch to build a tailored content strategy for your coverage.
IMAGO / United Archives / Pele, actually Edson Arantes do Nascimento, is considered the greatest soccer player of the 20th century and played in 78 international matches.
When people talk about “greatness,” several criteria are usually mixed together, and they are not always clearly separated. This quickly leads to false debates — for example, when raw goal totals are set against playmaking, or trophies are set against individual dominance. That is why it helps to clarify which benchmarks are commonly used and where their limits lie.
Common criteria in all-time discussions include:
Individual quality: technique, decision-making, creativity, athleticism, consistency.
Influence on matches: the ability to decide games at the highest level.
Trophies and awards: World Cup, continental tournaments, club competitions, and individual prizes such as the Ballon d’Or.
Shaping an era: style-defining impact, new interpretations of roles, influence as a reference point.
Longevity and adaptability: elite performance over many years despite tactical and physical evolution.
These criteria explain why rankings can look very different depending on what is emphasized — and why a serious approach is less about declaring a fixed “Top 10” and more about relating eras, roles, and competitive environments to one another.
Comparing Pelé with Messi is not only comparing two players — it is comparing two different versions of football. This includes not only sports science and recovery, but also rules, tempo, defending habits, pitch quality, and the global density of competition. Modern top leagues are more standardized, more international, and more financially concentrated; at the same time, opponents are tactically more organized and matches are more intense.
Awards and public perception have also changed. The Ballon d’Or, for example, began with European restrictions and later opened up in stages; periods of changed voting rules and institutional formats affected comparability as well. The result is that, even where numbers exist, it is always necessary to ask what exactly was measured — and under which conditions.
Although the headline runs from Pelé to Messi, the “modern” all-time debate effectively starts earlier — at a time when international club competitions and mass media already carried the sport beyond national borders. Alfredo Di Stéfano is often cited as a symbol of early European club dominance; Ferenc Puskás, as a reference point for attacking play that continues to influence the sport.
These names frequently appear as historical anchors: not only because of titles, but because they played in a transition period — between less standardized leagues and accelerating internationalization. Looking at this phase helps explain why Pelé later felt like a turning point: he arrived in a world that was ready to consume football globally.
Pelé is not simply “another star” in the all-time narrative, but a player who helped define the World Cup as football’s leading stage in his era. He won three World Cup titles with Brazil (1958, 1962, 1970) — a unique record in men’s World Cup history. The 1970 team in particular is widely regarded as iconic, because it combined individual brilliance with collective play, at a moment when the tournament was becoming a truly global media event.
At the same time, Pelé illustrates how difficult historical statistics can be. His goal totals are recorded differently depending on whether friendly and tour matches are included. Serious historical accounts therefore stress that Pelé’s status does not depend on a single number, but on the combination of impact, titles, and symbolic power — and that the counting itself has long been debated in documented ways.
This sets a benchmark that returns in later generations: to be considered “the greatest,” a player often needs not only dominance, but the ability to define an era.
After Pelé, the debate shifts strongly toward tactics and role interpretation. In the 1970s, for many observers, football becomes a form of “system art,” where greatness is not only about individual genius but also about reading space and redefining positions. In this context, two names are almost inevitable: Johan Cruyff and Franz Beckenbauer.
Cruyff is linked to a footballing worldview that spread across club and national-team levels and later shaped coaching traditions and club identities. His individual recognition reflects this: he won the Ballon d’Or three times (1971, 1973, 1974). In all-time discussions, Cruyff is often rated less by a trophy list than by his influence on football culture.
Beckenbauer, in turn, represents the libero as a playmaking defender — a role interpretation that became visible at the highest level. He won the Ballon d’Or twice (1972, 1976). He also illustrates how “greatness” can be perceived across multiple layers: as a player, a captain, and later also as a coach, which further shaped public memory.
This 1970s pivot matters for the article’s thread: from this point on, the “greatest player” is no longer understood only as a scorer, but also as an architect of the game.
IMAGO / Sven Simon|Commemoration of the deceased Franz Beckenbauer at the annual general meeting 2024 of FC Bayern Munich e.V. on 08.12.2024 in the Rudi Sedlmayer Hall.
In the 1980s, another factor moves to the foreground: the single player as the narrator of an entire tournament. Few examples are as strong as Diego Maradona in 1986. That he was named the tournament’s best player (the Golden Ball) at the 1986 World Cup is part of the official record.
Even more influential than the award is the image and memory economy around that tournament: Maradona’s famous solo run against England is framed in FIFA retrospectives as the “Goal of the Century” and is repeatedly used in highlight formats. This helps explain why Maradona ranks extremely high in many all-time lists even when his club trophy haul is less dominant than that of some other legends: he represents maximum tournament dramaturgy, concentrated into a handful of matches.
At the same time, this era shows that “greatness” in football often comes with fractures: injuries, controversies, political context, and media dynamics. With Maradona in particular, historical discussion is rarely “purely sporting.” That is precisely why he is central as a case study — because he demonstrates how football icons become cultural figures, not just elite performers.
From the 1990s onward, the Ballon d’Or becomes a key reference point for many debates, even though it never answers every question. Its history shows why: it has existed since 1956, but rules and voting eligibility have changed over the decades.
For all-time comparisons, that has two implications. First, the Ballon d’Or often reflects public and expert perception, but it is not identical to “objective performance.” Second, it highlights which players were seen as decisive and style-defining over longer periods. That makes it useful — as long as the historical framework is kept in view.
If Pelé and Maradona are associated with World Cup storytelling, the 1990s and early 2000s become an era in which international tournaments and club football jointly shape icons. Zinedine Zidane is a clear example: Ballon d’Or winner in 1998 and a central figure in France’s title years around the World Cup and European Championship cycle. In all-time debates, Zidane is often described as a player who controlled matches not only through goals, but through rhythm, ball mastery, and decision quality.
Ronaldo (Ronaldo Nazário) represents a different form of dominance: explosiveness, finishing, and the capacity to break defensive structures in seconds. He won the Ballon d’Or twice (1997, 2002) and was the top scorer of the 2002 World Cup; at the same time, his career is closely linked to severe injuries, which still fuels discussion about “lost peak years.”
This phase connects the earlier chapters: as with Maradona, tournament moments matter; as with Cruyff and Beckenbauer, the question of what footballing idea a player embodies also matters.
With Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo, the all-time debate reaches a new level because their prime coincides with an era in which almost everything is measured, clipped, and judged in real time: goals by zones, chance quality, running patterns, pressing actions — along with Social Media reach, global marketing, and nonstop comparison formats.
Messi is the record winner of the Ballon d’Or with eight awards; Ronaldo has five. For all-time comparisons, the key point is less “who has more” and more that both players dominated a period for so long that the debate was conducted, for the first time, as a multi-decade rivalry.
Messi is often described as a player who solves tight spaces, generates maximum effect with minimal movement, and makes sequences so “small” that they become almost impossible to defend. Ronaldo is more commonly associated with athleticism, timing, aerial strength, and finishing variety — a forward profile that he reshaped several times across his career. Both readings are reflected in statistics and also in how teams were built around them.
That the rivalry is not only a feeling but also visible in European club records is evident in a well-known example: in the UEFA Champions League’s all-time scoring lists, Ronaldo and Messi remain far ahead.
IMAGO / Nicolo Campo| Cristiano Ronaldo (L) of Juventus FC is challenged by Lionel Messi of FC Barcelona during the UEFA Champions League Group G football match between FC Barcelona and Juventus.
A recurring argument in Messi debates for many years was the absence of a World Cup title. That changed with Argentina’s World Cup victory in 2022; Messi was also named the tournament’s best player (Golden Ball). In addition, FIFA highlights that Messi is the only player to have won the Golden Ball at two World Cups — a detail that strengthens his position in tournament comparisons.
Ronaldo, in the national-team context, is often discussed through longevity and international scoring records. UEFA recognizes him as the all-time leading scorer in men’s international football, with a benchmark that is updated as careers continue.
Another difference from earlier generations is that Messi’s and Ronaldo’s careers visibly extend into new markets and leagues — accompanied by global attention. Messi is officially listed as an Inter Miami CF player, underlining how much football’s elite stages have broadened. Ronaldo’s late-career phase is similarly associated with a market shift and is tracked through continuously updated profiles and records.
This closes a thematic circle back to Pelé: Pelé, too, became an early figure of football’s global visibility — only in a very different media environment and with different competitive structures.
The closer discussions get to the biggest names, the stronger the temptation to reduce everything to “goals” or “trophies.” A serious overview has to name structural factors that affect every generation differently.
Three commonly overlooked comparison traps are:
Rules and refereeing culture: the tolerated level of contact — and the protection of attacking players — has changed over time.
Tactical density: modern defenses manage space differently; earlier eras offered different freedoms — and different kinds of physical risk.
Competition architecture: club competitions, calendars, and international tournament formats have expanded across decades.
That is why some players are remembered primarily as “aesthetic,” others as “efficient,” and others as “epoch-defining.” It also explains why the debate never ends: it is less a math problem than an interpretation problem.
A broad overview is incomplete if women’s football is treated as a footnote. Here, too, careers have set standards over decades — with their own competitions, media history, and development conditions.
Marta is a central reference point, because FIFA has recognized her as a player who was named the world’s best six times (2006–2010 and 2018) and has emphasized her significance across generations. In comparison to all-time debates in men’s football, Marta shows how clearly individual dominance can stand out even when the sport’s global infrastructure is distributed differently.
This fits the logic of the article: if “greatness” is a mix of quality, influence, and context, then an all-time perspective must acknowledge that there are multiple historical lines — and that the route from Pelé to Messi is only one of them.
Anyone writing about the biggest names will almost automatically work with images: celebrations, trophies, iconic match scenes. For media organizations, agencies, brands, creators, NGOs, and educational institutions, it is essential that image use is legally sound. A license grants usage rights — not ownership; copyright generally remains with the creator or the represented agency.
IMAGO operates as an international image and content platform with a worldwide network of partner photographers, agencies, and archives, offering clear licensing models: Rights Managed (RM) as well as Royalty Free Classic and Royalty Free Premium — each with defined usage scope by medium, duration, territory, and purpose. Commercial use — for example advertising, sponsorship, packaging, or merchandising — can additionally require Model Releases and, where relevant, Property Releases when people or identifiable protected objects are central. As a general rule: without the appropriate releases, material can often be used only editorially.
“Images are licensed for editorial use; commercial use requires a corresponding license (non-exclusive).”
Pelé stands in the all-time narrative for the World Cup as a global stage and for an early form of worldwide football public attention. Cruyff and Beckenbauer mark a phase in which football ideas and role models increasingly shaped the debate. Maradona demonstrates how a tournament can become mythology — officially recognized and repeatedly revisited in images and storytelling. Zidane and Ronaldo represent an era in which tournaments and club football jointly forge legends, before Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo take the discussion into a data-driven modern age.
In the end, “the greatest footballer” remains a well-argued perspective, not a final truth. That is precisely why the multi-decade view matters: it shows how much football has changed — and how many different forms greatness can take without becoming arbitrary.