retired by Chelsea, no one has dared to wear Zola’s number 25 since his departure in 2003.
Zola’s technical ability was outstanding. His first goal was a magnificent free-kick in a 2–2 draw with Everton, and only David Beckham has scored more Premier League free-kicks. Zola confirmed his status as Chelsea’s dead-ball specialist after a training-ground competition with Dennis Wise. A sock was tied to the crossbar – both were five foot six, so this presumably involved one sitting on the other’s shoulders – and they stood outside the box and attempted to curl the ball against the sock. Zola won 10–1, and the matter was settled. Dismayed by the lack of equipment at Chelsea’s old training ground near Heathrow Airport, Zola purchased his own mock defensive wall and spent hours practising.
While Cantona was tall and physically commanding, Zola was small, slight and wore size 5 boots. He was strong for his size, however, and used his body excellently. Chelsea teammate Graeme Le Saux considered him the joint best forward he’d ever seen, along with Kenny Dalglish, at the art of shielding the ball from defenders. But more than anyone else of this era, Zola thrived upon space, a classic example being his winner in the 1997 FA Cup semi-final against Wimbledon at Highbury. Initially positioned high up against the opposition defence, Zola watched teammate Roberto Di Matteo moving between the lines, dragging Wimbledon’s right-sided centre-back Chris Perry up the pitch. Zola then sprinted into the space Perry had vacated, pulling Wimbledon’s left-sided centre-back Dean Blackwell across to cover. Di Matteo played the ball into Zola’s feet, and Chelsea’s number 25 immediately backheeled it into the zone Blackwell had vacated, changed direction, collected the ball and fired home. In a few seconds, he’d seen space, exploited it, created more space, exploited that, and scored. For a player in his mould, it was the perfect goal.
Crucially, Zola was allowed a ‘free role’ behind the main striker, in a Chelsea side formatted specifically to bring out his qualities. Centre-back Steve Clarke remembers a team talk in which the message was simply ‘get the ball to Zola’, while Wise referred to Zola as a ‘showhorse’ and labelled himself a ‘donkey’. The donkey’s job, he said, was simply to do the hard work and pass to the showhorse. ‘Historically [English sides] have been set up with two strong strikers, two sitting midfielders and two wingers,’ Zola said after his retirement. ‘You never used to play the ball through the middle. What you used to do was play the ball down the sides and cross the ball to the tall player.’ Zola, like Cantona and Bergkamp, helped to change that.
‘He’s a clever little bugger … a better player than I thought he was,’ Alex Ferguson had conceded two months earlier, after Zola scored a fine second-minute goal against Manchester United, dribbling inside from the right before finishing with his left foot. ‘I thought we could push my full-backs forward, but he was smart enough to go and play wide. He has got a good head on him.’ Later, Ryan Giggs claimed that such was Zola’s ability to find space that he was the only Premier League player United man-marked, although this often proved unsuccessful. For Chelsea’s 5–0 thrashing of United in October 1999, Ferguson was without Giggs and played Phil Neville in his place, but instructed him to play centrally, man-marking Zola. United largely nullified the Italian but left a gaping hole on their left, which meant Chelsea’s Albert Ferrer and Dan Petrescu, two right-backs in tandem, assisted the opening two goals with deep crosses.
While Premier League observers marvelled at these majestic, game-changing foreign number 10s, there was nevertheless an acknowledgement that many arrived in Britain because they had limited options elsewhere. Cantona had effectively been run out of France, Bergkamp struggled in Italy with Inter Milan, while Zola had recently turned 30, then considered the cut-off for forwards’ peak years, and admitted he only expected to play for a couple more seasons. There was a sense that the Premier League was gaining top-class players when they were on the way down. Therefore, in one respect the most significant arrival during this period was another foreign number 10: Juninho. Newly promoted Middlesbrough’s purchase of the diminutive Brazilian in 1995 was a truly remarkable transfer coup, because he was unquestionably on the way up.
Juninho had impressed on English soil that summer, when world champions Brazil competed alongside England, Sweden and Japan in the Umbro Cup, a tournament held as preparation for the following summer’s European Championships. Juninho wore Brazil’s number 10, the most iconic shirt in world football, played in a 4–3–1–2 system based around him and was inspirational in the 3–1 victory over England. He opened the scoring with a classic Brazilian ‘folha seca’ (dry leaf) free-kick, played with topspin, which surprised goalkeeper Tim Flowers with its sudden dip. Simply being allowed to take free-kicks ahead of Roberto Carlos was an achievement in itself. Brazil’s second goal, meanwhile, showcased Juninho’s playmaking skills perfectly; he received the ball between the lines, glanced up and sidefooted a through-ball into the path of another promising youngster, Brazil’s number 9, who finished confidently by rounding Flowers and converting into an empty net. It was English football’s introduction to Ronaldo, and yet everyone was talking about Juninho.
In the home dugout at Wembley that sunny afternoon was Bryan Robson, then acting as assistant to England manager Terry Venables in addition to his role as player-manager of Middlesbrough. Mesmerised by the opposition number 10’s performance, Robson convinced Middlesbrough’s board to sign Juninho, beating the likes of Arsenal, Inter and Porto to the Brazilian’s signature. Middlesbrough chief executive Keith Lamb referred to his new recruit as ‘the most sought-after player in the world’. Hyperbole, certainly, and somewhat undermined by the fact that Juninho cost less than Middlesbrough’s other major arrival that summer, Nicky Barmby, but this was a landmark purchase, a rising player joining a rising team in a rising league.
His unveiling was a huge event in Middlesbrough. Fans greeted him at the airport with Brazilian flags, more cheered as he arrived at the new Riverside Stadium in scenes reminiscent of a papal visit, then 6,000 moved inside to watch him play keepy-uppies with Robson. His first press conference didn’t pass without one inevitable question. ‘Does he know how cold it gets in Middlesbrough in January?’ asked one journalist. Juninho, through a translator, insisted it wouldn’t be that bad, although he was often criticised by pundits for playing in gloves, and during his first winter stuffed newspaper inside his boots in an attempt to keep his feet warm. Robson responded by describing Juninho as a ‘tough character’ – and most top-class Brazilian attackers are. The cliché about Brazil suggests it’s non-stop samba football, played by technical players who learn their trade playing on the Copacabana. Realistically, the Brazilian top flight is extremely aggressive: it’s not simply that defenders kick attackers ferociously, it’s that referees allow it, and so Juninho’s transition from Brazilian to English football wasn’t as tough as many anticipated.
Immediately afforded a free role by Robson, Juninho used that licence fully on his debut against Leeds, starting on the right flank before quickly drifting across to the left. He played two killer through-balls inside the first half, setting up Jan Åge Fjørtoft for the opener. Inevitably, Leeds’s response was to kick him, and both Carlton Palmer and John Pemberton were booked for fouling the Brazilian. The Independent’s match report remarked upon his ‘surprising courage’ and ended with an acknowledgement that ‘perhaps he is tougher than anyone thought.’ Indeed, his final significant contribution before being substituted was a thundering tackle on legendary crossbar-botherer Tony Yeboah, one of the Premier League’s most powerful players, which earned a booking. That went down well, as fans wanted proof he would get stuck in.
A fresh-faced, slender creator whose name meant ‘Little Junior’ – so small they named him twice – the Brazilian wasn’t expected to thrive in English conditions, but Juninho loved the north-east and loved English football. The club found him a house in Ingleby Barwick, a large housing estate, and he moved in with his entire family, which helped him settle. Juninho’s house became something of a local landmark, with children queuing outside for his autograph. His mum made them cookies, and Juninho wasn’t averse to the occasional kickabout in the street.
Juninho was tricky but direct in possession,
