Marco van Basten was one of the finest players ever to grace a football pitch. His ability to score in every conceivable way elevated the game to new heights, making his name synonymous with goals. But to truly grasp van Basten’s greatness, one must look beyond goals.
Despite a career tragically cut short at just 28 due to an injury-prone ankle, Van Basten still managed to net 300 goals—many of them nothing short of masterpieces. There was the impossible volley from an absurd angle in the final of the 1988 European Championship, and the gravity-defying, low-flying header against Real Madrid in 1989. Both defied physics, challenged geometry, and rewrote what was thought possible on a football field. And yet, they happened—etched forever into footballing folklore. These moments alone would be enough to define a legacy.
But true greatness, the kind that transcends statistics, often lies in subtler gestures—the genius that doesn't always make the highlight reel.
One such moment occurred in the 72nd minute of the Netherlands vs. Germany match in the 1992 European Championship. Aron Winter, receiving a difficult, bouncing pass from Frank Rijkaard, expertly spun away from his marker and drove forward along the right flank into the final third. As he regained his balance, Winter glanced briefly to his left, scanning for options inside the box.
What he saw in that split second is barely visible on camera, but clear enough to those watching closely: Marco van Basten, not just positioning himself—but orchestrating the play.
With a subtle raise of his right arm and a nod of his head, van Basten pointed backward, away from himself, toward a fast-approaching Dennis Bergkamp—still well outside Winter’s visual field. Bergkamp had begun his run from deep and wasn’t visible to Winter, but van Basten had already calculated the situation. By drawing both German defenders toward him—one on each shoulder—he created the space Bergkamp would need. He wasn’t just reacting to the game; he was shaping it.
And in that fraction of a second, with the entire play unfolding at full speed, van Basten signaled the decisive pass—not for himself, but for someone better placed to score. It was a masterstroke of vision, awareness, and selflessness—three-dimensional chess played in real time.
Winter read the signal. He delivered the cross. Bergkamp met it with a thundering header that sealed Germany’s fate.
Van Basten didn’t touch the ball. He didn’t register an assist. He didn’t appear on the scoresheet.
But he was the author of the goal.
That—more than any spectacular volley or miraculous header—is what defines true greatness. A moment of silent genius, invisible to most, but undeniable in its impact. A moment that reminds us why Marco van Basten will always belong among the immortals.
