Jorge Nuno Pinto da Costa is, to my mind, the greatest football club president of all time. As an FC Porto supporter, I owe him a debt beyond measure. Yet, that same allegiance forces me to wrestle deeply with the controversies that marred his reign. It’s this duality that compels me to grapple with a man who, in more ways than one, personified my club—a fighter, relentless, strong-willed, soulful, and fiercely passionate; a David thriving in a world of Goliaths. He bears the lion’s share of responsibility for the dizzying heights FC Porto reached—European and world champions among them—but he’s equally accountable for dragging the club’s name through the mud amidst countless battles.
Pinto da Costa was a man who thrived in conflict far more than in calm. He sought the heat of the ‘battle’ relentlessly, whether facing Porto’s two main rivals, the Football Association, the media, UEFA, or whoever dared cross his path next. That was his arena, his natural habitat.
To my eyes, Pinto da Costa stands as the greatest football club president ever. As an FC Porto supporter, I owe him more than I can repay. Yet, that same loyalty leaves me wrestling daily with the scandals that scarred his tenure. This isn’t his biography—I’m not here to chronicle his life. It’s my attempt to reckon with a man who’ll forever shape mine, a figure of brilliance and blemishes in equal measure. He was the soul of my club: a warrior, brimming with passion—a David who defied every Goliath. Through him, FC Porto scaled football’s Olympus, claiming European and world titles. Through him, too, our name was mired in ceaseless strife, dragged through the dirt.
A man of fierce convictions and unbound desire, he revelled in the fray— defending Porto against our rivals, whichever association, organisation or governing body that may be. That was his domain. But in his final years as president, that same fire faltered—he lost his way, and the glory he built began to cast a shadow. “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.” It describes Pinto da Costa’s reign at FC Porto to a tee. For decades, he led the club in an almost uncontested fashion, with the general feeling that anything he touched turned to gold. Such was his Midas touch that successes poured in across all sorts of sports—from football to handball, roller hockey to swimming, and many others besides. The triumphs were staggering: over 2,500 trophies amassed across these disciplines, a testament to an era of near-unstoppable dominance.
Yet all those successes couldn’t possibly hide the fact that the club was—and still is—in dire financial straits during the last decade of his presidency. With a string of terrible decisions, many of them deeply dubious, questions linger over what his real intentions were—or whether the club’s welfare was even considered when the Board made them. And, naturally, as the money dwindled, the road to success grew steeper. Those questionable calls began to erode the sporting results, and once those faltered, no matter how much Pinto da Costa had done for the club, supporters started turning their gaze beyond the pitch.
I’m 40 years old, and only now, in 2024, have I seen my club with a different president—a fact that underscores how ever-present Pinto da Costa has been in my life. I shook his hand a couple of times at events, but I never truly met him. He wasn’t my friend, my colleague, or someone I could ring for anything at all. Yet he was as constant in my life as my best mate or my family. To be an FC Porto supporter was to have Pinto da Costa by your side. I found myself ‘defending’ him in many moments—sometimes more out of love for the club than any sense of righteousness towards him—but he was, indeed, my president. Still, he’s also the main reason I’ve struggled to fully embrace the successes at times, knowing they’d mean he’d cling on longer. Truth be told, most supporters, at some point, chose to turn a blind eye to what was brewing behind the scenes. I’m not criticising that stance—I get it completely—but it came with its penalties. Many would say the club couldn’t, and wouldn’t, survive without Pinto da Costa; some still believe that. Yet the stark truth is the club nearly didn’t survive because of him and his team. Others will settle that score—it won’t be me. Power corrupts, and we all helped him gain and wield near-absolute power, so I’m not shocked it ended up corrupting him. For most clubs, the best player in their history is a star on the pitch. For us Portistas, our best player was Pinto da Costa—even if our ‘best player’ had a dark side which very nearly killed our club. This is my struggle to reconcile the true passion and profound flaws of a man who shaped me as much as he shaped our club.
Being an FC Porto supporter means savouring the thrill of winning every trophy imaginable—domestic and international alike—such has been our path for over 40 years. Yet it also means weathering the shade our rivals hurl at those triumphs. To me, Pinto da Costa is the greatest football club president ever, and it’s largely thanks to him that we’ve tasted both the sublime and the sour.
Now, with André Villas-Boas as our new president, the club has a fresh steward—someone who’ll strive to keep us on a path of success. I’ve no doubt he’ll give his all, but there’s a quiet consensus among Porto supporters: whatever lies ahead won’t touch the heights Pinto da Costa scaled. And that’s fine. No club basks in glory every season. My hope is simpler: that Porto keeps fighting and builds a steady future where generations of Portistas can cheer our triumphs together. No delusions of grandeur here, just a supporter’s wish. Yet we—and the club—must make peace with Pinto da Costa’s legacy. Some of us will never fully embrace another president; others will always resent his missteps. Both feelings are natural, but we need to hold our present close and look to what’s next. It’s the only way Porto endures. Pinto da Costa was a huge part of what FC Porto is, but FC Porto was never just him.
The future is unknown, as my dear Joe Strummer would say, and, like I’ve mentioned before, I don’t reckon we’ll ever hit those same heights again—not just because of the new Board, but because the world of football has shifted. More and more, the giant, rich clubs hold a suffocating grip on the sport. But to me, FC Porto means so much more than ‘just’ triumphs. It’s given me the brilliant chance to meet new people, forge new mates, and share common ground with total strangers. To love a club is to open yourself to a wondrous world where folk come together out of pure passion—and that’s truly special. How many things in our lives are like this? Dare I say, none? As an FC Porto supporter, I say this: thank you for everything, Pinto da Costa. As an individual, I say, generously: it’s complicated.
FC Porto, though, is bigger than one man. It’s a club that carries a region, a country, its people—a different way of seeing the world. It’s the woman grafting at Mercado do Bolhão, the gent keeping his business sharp, the bloke up at dawn to sweep the streets, the lad stumbling home from a night out. It’s this rich, sprawling tapestry of its supporters—folk from every walk of life—that makes Porto what it is.
