Soccer is very fond of Finals with a capital “F.” This summer in Europe, we’ve had the FA Cup Final, the Confederations Cup Final, the Champions League Final, the FIFA World Youth Final . . . all Finals, but none of them is the last word.

The sun never sets on soccer’s empire. Europe’s festival of Finals may be over, but North America will have its say this week when the Final of the Gold Cup is played in Giants Stadium on Sunday. Last week, the South Americans took center stage when the Copa Libertadores reached its climax with Sao Paulo’s 4-0 trouncing of CA Paranaense in the Final.

So hectic is the pace of modern sport that there’s never much time to savor victory in these games. As soon as the swirling celebratory confetti has settled on the ground, it’s the next edition of the tournament, and the next Final, that matter. Amid the brutal realpolitik of winning and making money, the deeper assets of sport – the history, the traditions, the sentimental memories, all of them linked to past, not future, games – struggle to be heard. But every now and then, they rise to the surface and when they do, sport never looks or feels more compelling or more beautiful.

Such a moment came last Thursday in the Libertadores final. Things got off to a menacing start. Outside the packed Morumbi stadium in Sao Paulo, ticket-less fans staged a running battle with the police. Inside, the soccer was poor stuff – nervous, edgy, full of petty fouling. Sao Paulo took an early lead on Amoroso’s goal, but Paranaense – a surprise finalist from the southern Brazilian town of Curitiba – defended with tigerish intensity, and right before half time got its chance to tie the score with a penalty kick.

Paranaense’s splendid captain, Fabricio, cool as ice in the Morumbi cauldron, took the kick. But this was to be Sao Paulo’s night; his shot beat goalkeeper Rogerio but rebounded from the post. The miss marked the end for Paranaense; in the second half, as Sao Paulo took over the game, Paranaense became an almost irrelevant factor. Just seven minutes after the break, defender Fabao imperiously headed in Sao Paulo’s second goal.

The fans knew it was all over, that Sao Paulo was headed for victory. But they knew a lot more. They were chanting Tricampeao! Tricampeao! – they knew that Sao Paulo was about to become the first Brazilian club to win three Libertadores titles. They remembered the first two wins, in 1992 and 1993 – not much more than a decade ago, but an eternity for the modern game – and they remembered the man who coached those two great teams. A second, softer, chant began – Tele! Tele! Tele! – and suddenly you noticed the huge banner that read TELE ETERNO.

For me, a moment to recall the ever-smiling Tele Santana, who believed so passionately in what he saw as the Brazilians’ natural style – futebol-arte – soccer played with skill and artistry. What Pele calls the Beautiful Game.

Tele had coached Brazil in the 1982 and 1986 World Cups. They were two superb teams that reflected his philosophy – just listen to these names: Zico, Falcao, Toninho Cerezo, Junior, Socrates, Careca – but two teams that failed to win.

Tele was dubbed a loser, which was bad enough, but Brazilian soccer was condemned as well, dismissed as too flamboyant, too entertaining, not serious enough. But Tele was unrepentant: “If I had to do it again, I’d do it the same way, faithful to my belief in futebol-arte.”

His critics were utterly wrong. Tele had lost a couple of crucial games, but he had won the hearts and the souls of those who treasure the beauty of soccer. Today, few people remember anything of Germany and Italy, two very ordinary teams who gave us a forgettable final in that 1982 World Cup. But the brilliance of the Brazilians has never been forgotten.

Anyway, Tele had the last word on winning with those two Sao Paulo Libertadores triumphs: “I’m tired of hearing that you can’t win with attacking, skillful soccer. These results prove the contrary. I hope they will help Brazilian soccer to rediscover its true history: futebol-arte.”

Tele, a diabetic, had a leg amputated in 2003, and is not seen in public these days. But his presence, his influence, was there in Morumbi on Thursday night. The fans demanded it, and almost as though in response, the quality of Sao Paulo’s soccer rose to levels that would have delighted Tele.

The third goal was briskly swept home by Luizao after a lovely exchange of passes with Amoroso. More emotion – pure soccer emotion – followed as Luizao left the field, weeping openly, having played his last game and scored his last goal for Sao Paulo. The crowd pleaded “Stay Luizao!” but he is on his way to join a Japanese club.

The current Sao Paulo coach, Paulo Autuori, then sent on the 20-year-old Diego Tardelli, the youngster who will fill the gap left by Luizao’s departure. Three minutes before the end of the game, Tardelli jinked his way past a defender and scored Sao Paulo’s fourth goal with a rasping grass-cutter that was in the net before Paranaense goalkeeper Diego could react.

A final to remember, one that was warmed by the traditions of the sport, one that honored its history, one that – eventually – produced some memorable soccer, some futebol-arte.

But after the game, there was an immediate return to the unacceptable face of the sport, as Sao Paulo fans rampaged through the city, breaking shop windows and looting stores.

Those are excesses that everyone deplores. But within the sport lurks the equally destructive influence of monetary imbalance. Back in 1992, Tele knew that he could not hope to keep his team together for more than a year, two at the most. The best players would be offered contracts by rich European clubs. With a resigned shrug, and the usual smile, Tele remarked, “If you ask me, they should accept and go. But it will be a shame to lose them.”

Nothing has changed since then. Sao Paulo-2005 will lose its best players. In particular, it looks likely that its lively right lateral, Cicinho, will soon be on his way to Europe.

Sao Paulo will hope it can hang on to him at least through December, when it heads to Japan to play in the revamped Toyota Cup. What used to be a single game between the club champions of Europe and South America is now a week-long six-team tournament, to which the champions of Asia, Africa, Concacaf, and Oceania have been added. Cicinho’s presence would greatly strengthen Sao Paulo’s chances of wining the Toyota Cup – the last big game of 2005, the final Final.