His preferred method of self-defence is to bite back with a nice sense of irony and a vigour that belies his age. Before this week's match in Marseille, for instance, a Dutch journalist boldly reminded him of the 1974 tournament, when a Zagallo-managed Brazil went down to Holland in the final group phase. "I'm 66 years old, and my memory is starting to fail," the coachresponded.

"That was 24 years ago. I find it easier to remember the last World Cup, four years ago. Let's talk about that. Dallas, the quarter-final, Brazil-Holland 3-2, wasn't it?"

Whatever his identity or his stature, Brazil's coach is everyone's target, from the greatest name in the game to the drunk in the bar. Four titles -- two as a player and two as a coach -- appear to mean nothing. Weren't injuries just an excuse to leave out Romario and Juninho? Why does he show such faith in has-beens like Dunga and Taffarel but leave out a genius like Denilson? How on earth could Brazil lose dress rehearsals against the US and Norway, and fail to beat Jamaica? "Idiot!" the crowd in the Maracana chanted at him in May, when his team lost a warm-up game to Argentina.

MARIO Jorge Lobo Zagallo was brought up in Tijuca, a suburb of Rio, by parents who aspired to a career other than football for their son. The boy acquiesced, to the extent of completing his studies, but at 18 he joined America, a local club.

At19 he joined Flamengo, where he was nicknamed Little Ant in recognition of his industrious, self-effacing style. Three consecutive Rio championships prefaced his selection for the 1958 World Cup finals, in which he played in all six matches, scoring in the final 5-2 victory over Sweden, the hosts.

A year later his injury was diagnosed, and upon recovery in 1961 he moved to Botafogo, where he and Garrincha led the side to the National titles of 1961 and 1962. The second World Cup medal, in Chile in 1962, was his ultimate reward for refusing to accept the doctors' pessimistic forecasts.

Three years later he retired from playing and became an apprentice coach, in charge of Botafogo's youth team.

In 1967 he took over the senior squad, so impressively that early in 1970, when the Brazilian FA sacked the journalist Joao Saldanha only three months before the finals in Mexico, Zagallo was their choice as an emergency replacement. "I was very young," he says, "and I was lucky to take over such a fabulous team --the greatest, I think, in the history of football."

Afterwards there was an interlude as a club coach, with the great Rio rivals, Fluminense and Flamengo, before he resumed the national job in time for the World Cup campaign of 1974 -- the event to which other Brazilians always refer when things are going badly.

Seven years in Middle Eastern exile was his punishment, although his remuneration as national coach to Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates enabled him to buy a big house by the sea in Tijuca for his wife, Alcina, and their four children.

But in 1994 the call came to rejoin the national team, this time as an adviser to Carlos Alberto Parreira, who had been his physiotherapist in 1970. Together they planned and executed the pragmatic strategy that brought Brazil its first World Cup in 24 years.

Today he is surrounded by his own team -- Americo Faria, the general manager; Nelson Borges, the press chief; Lido Toledo, the physio; and Zico, controversially installed by the BrazilianFA as a 'co-ordinator' shortly before the finals. Despite the widespread suggestions that Zagallo and Zico would be unable to work together, they seem to have functioned harmoniously enough, with the squad members loyally assuring observers that Zagallo is the real boss.

Thanks to the 60 million Pounds coming in from a 10-year Nike sponsorship deal, Brazil can presumably afford the extra salary for Zico on top of the 600,000 Pounds a year they pay Zagallo.

It's quite a job, being responsible for satisfying the world's dreams. If picking the 11 best players were all it took, Brazil would have won 14 World Cups, not four. "To people who criticise me," Zagallo says, "I reply, look at the story of my life and you'll have to conclude that I'm a winner." His real answer, as ever, will come on Sunday.

Observer News Service