When recalling that incredible Seleção, the names just trip off the tongue – Pelé, Jairzinho, Rivelino, Carlos Alberto, Gerson – all heroes in eternity. Yet, one man – in my opinion – rarely receives the praise he deserves for his part in their success. He was a short, slight, waspish figure; graceful and lithe with the unshakeable balance of a gymnast. He oozed the kind of creativity we see these days in the likes of Andres Iniesta.

He was Tostão.

The native of Brazil’s sixth largest city Belo Horizonte began his professional career at just 15 in the early 1960s with América MG before a move to city rivals Cruzeiro soon after. While playing for Raposa his sheer volume of goals grabbed the attention of successive national team coaches from Vicente Feola to João Saldanha and finally the great Mário Zagallo. He was a regular pick for Brazil before his 20th birthday.

What made his feats so impressive was that he was a player almost without a position, except for that which he himself decided on. Neither midfielder nor forward, wherever a pass needed making, a run needed embarking upon, or a shot needed converting, Tostão was invariably involved. He was both elusive and obvious – a hide and seek champion in plain sight.

The debacle of Brazil’s 1966 World Cup campaign in England, where the holders and favourites were kicked and banged all over Goodison Park (where they played their only three games of the tournament), exposed them as over confident bordering on arrogant, complacent, and far beyond their peak of four years earlier in Chile.

Returning home to widespread derision, the old guard was gradually dismantled in favour of a new vibrant side, one that would grow together and re-establish Brazil as the kings of international football at the 1970 World Cup held in Mexico. That would be easier said than done, though. England arrived at the tournament to defend their crown with a supposedly better squad than the one that won in 1966, even accounting for star man Bobby Charlton being the wrong side of 30 and supposedly on the wane. West Germany – with Franz Beckenbauer and Gerd Müller entering the prime of their careers – were a coming force, while the Italians were always strong contenders and had top class players from the ultra-competitive Serie A such as Luigi Riva, Sandro Mazzola and Giacinto Facchetti. However, at that point, no European side had ever captured the trophy outside its own continent, giving the reborn Brazilians a critical edge on what would be familiar conditions.

By the time the competition began Tostão was still just 23 years old but had already won five consecutive Minas Gerais State Championships and a national title for Cruzeiro. He was on his way to scoring 249 goals in 378 appearances – a stunning return for someone not considered an out-and-out striker. He had become first choice in attack in the post-1966 rebuilding job (Tostão was in the squad and played one group game vs. Hungary) and was no longer considered by others – or himself – as Pelé’s understudy. Also crucial to Tostão’s elevation was Pelé’s decision to retire from international football after the overly aggressive treatment he had experienced in 1966, a decision he was persuaded to reconsider in 1969.

That same year, Tostão’s football career was almost curtailed before he had the chance to go down in history as one of the game’s greats. In October – just eight months before the World Cup finals – a ball was hit with such force into his face that he suffered a detached retina; an injury that can, and does, cause severe visual impairment even after corrective surgery. Tostão’s vision was saved after two operations by a Miami-based ophthalmologist, Roberto Moura – himself Brazilian.

Having missed eight months of football before the tournament just as he had become as important to the new Brazil as anyone - including the restored Pelé - the fear was that Tostão would be well short of his best even though Zagallo had enough faith in him to be part of the World Cup squad. As if to emphasise the coach’s belief that his playmaker would be key to Brazil’s chances of winning the Jules Rimet trophy for a third time, meaning they could keep it forever, Tostão was handed the number 9 shirt and started their opening group game with Czechoslovakia.

That the Brazilians ran out comfortable 4-1 winners does not tell the whole story. Despite their obvious brilliance, they had their flaws and Czechoslovakia repeatedly preyed upon them, taking the lead in the game, and subsequently wasting several clear-cut chances to upset the favourites. It was a game made famous by a couple of moments of brilliance from Pelé; a beautifully taken goal laid on by a perfect Rivelino chipped pass and an audacious effort from inside his own half that drifted inches wide with the goalkeeper gazing helplessly skywards. Tostão’s contribution in the role as Pelé’s foil was obvious. He created space for himself to operate in but did the same for his partner, drawing the defenders’ attentions from him in a way that had been missing in the brutality of 1966.

Also evident was the beefed-up stature of the Brazilian players compared to previous tournaments. They were determined not to be physically dominated again and added more pace and power to their game to complement their natural flair. Rivelino, Gerson and Pelé looked imposing; Carlos Alberto was the supreme athlete, surging back and forth along the right flank creating a template for Brazilian full backs for generations to come; Jairzinho prowled the front line with all the grace and agility of a black panther. The exception was Tostão. He was weedy and sickly-looking by comparison, yet his advantage came from his head. Knowing when and where to be bought him time and room to use his skill to as much effect as a Rivelino thunderbolt or a lung-bursting run by Carlos Alberto.

The second match on Brazil’s schedule was the most pivotal of all. It came in searing daytime heat at the Estadio Jalisco in Guadalajara against holders England and was seen as the final in all but name. And it didn’t disappoint.

Players, managers, goals take on mythical status but rarely do entire matches. This one was different and had it all. Colour TV live coverage beamed around the world may have added gravity to the occasion but is Gordon Banks’ save from Pelé’s towering far post header still not the benchmark by which all great saves are measured? Is Bobby Moore’s expertly executed last ditch tackle on a rampaging Jairzinho not also held up as the exemplar in the art of defending? The England captain called it the best international game he’d ever participated in; which, considering he appeared 108 times for his country and won a World Cup final, indicates just how monumental an encounter it was.