It happens quite a lot these days, with increasing frequency, I’d say: A top player announces that he’s decided not to play for his country any more.A semi-retirement, really, for his club career will continue, but there will be no more wearing of his country’s colors and no more appearances at the World Cup.

Such a decision was once unthinkable, almost akin to treason. To be chosen to represent one’s country was the highest honor the sport could bring. No one, but no one, turned it down.

In 1971, Pele became the first prominent player to stage a retirement from national team play. He played his last game for Brazil in the vast Maracana stadium in Rio de Janeiro, a passionate occasion as over 180,000 fans chanted “Stay! Stay!” Pele wept openly on the field, ample proof that saying goodbye to the national team was a heart-rending decision.

The atmosphere was very different in 1978, when the soccer world got a tremendous shock as two top players announced that they would not take part in that year’s World Cup, to be staged in Argentina. Germany’s Franz Beckenbauer and the Netherlands’ Johan Cruyff had been the opposing captains in the 1974 World Cup final, both were at the peak of their careers — but both chose to stay at home. No farewell games, no passionate crowds, no tears. Just matter-of-fact statements. Beckenbauer simply felt that he had nothing more to prove: He had won that World Cup final in 1974, while Cruyff made cryptic references to the unsavory nature of Argentina’s military government.

From that year on, the unquestioned spell cast by the national team — playing for one’s country was always referred to as national team “duty” — was broken. Now we get this sort of thing: Last week Dida, Brazil’s goalkeeper at last summer’s world cup, told Dunga — Brazil’s new coach, appointed after the World Cup — that he no longer wants to be considered for selection.

It is not as though Dida, who plays his club ball in Europe for AC Milan, is getting too old. He is a goalkeeper, a breed that matures a bit later than field players. At age 32, he is entering his prime.

But Dida now has other priorities, which he has not disclosed but are likely similar to those cited by another top star, England’s Paul Scholes, when he decided to call a halt to his international career in 2004. Scholes, who had played 65 times for England up to that point, stated that he wanted to concentrate on his club career with Manchester United and spend more time with his family.

He has a point. Top clubs like ManU and Milan are likely to play more than 60 games a season, an exacting schedule that involves traveling considerable distances within Europe. National team appearances could add as many as 10 games to that list. The real crunch comes every four years with the World Cup, a month-long tournament that, with its preliminary training camps, effectively occupies the entire European summer, traditionally the players’ vacation time.

Of course there are other reasons for national team retirement. When the French team was playing poorly in 2004 and under heavy criticism in the press, Zinedine Zidane, already a World Cup winner in 1998, decided that enough was enough and announced his retirement from the team.

A move that he revoked a year later, returning to lead France to this year’s final in Berlin. He gave advance notice that the World Cup would mark the end of his pro career for both country and club, a decision lamentably clouded by the spectacular head butt on the Italian Marco Materazzi that saw him ejected in disgrace from the final.

Of course, money also enters the picture. It used to be a non-factor — playing for one’s country was rewarded with little more than expenses, but no one complained, the honor meant so much more. Today, the fees are considerably higher, and there is the possibility of a real jackpot from World Cup play: the players on the United States team that reached the quarterfinals in 2002 each received over $200,000. The projected bonuses, had the USA won this year’s World Cup, amounted to over $700,000 a player.

Even so, with many of the world’s top players earning over $200,000 a week from their clubs, the possibility of a large once-in-four-years payout (and that’s only for players from the few elite countries capable of winning the World Cup) is unlikely to persuade a player to play for his country.

The main reasons for national team play will continue to be the honor it represents, and plain patriotism. Dida’s decision to withdraw from Brazil’s team drew a tart comment from Dunga: “We don’t want someone who doesn’t take pleasure in playing for the national team. Besides the body, we want the soul, the heart and the mind.”

In his own days as a player with Brazil, Dunga exemplified those values. During the 1990 World Cup he struck a combative tone with his “No more jogo bonito (beautiful game), this is the Brazil of sweat and sacrifice.” In 1994, Dunga captained Brazil to World Cup triumph, leading a team that did display plenty of the fighting spirit and devotion to the flag that he is now demanding.

For Dunga, it must have been a galling experience to watch Brazil during this year’s World Cup: a supremely talented team, installed as overwhelming favorites, yet a team that played lethargically, almost as though the players couldn’t be bothered to put out.

Exactly the opposite to Germany — a team that was in the doldrums before the World Cup, but over-achieved when coach Jurgen Klinsmann brought in younger, less well-paid players and instilled them with the glory of playing for their country. Germany, never playing particularly outstanding soccer, reached the semifinals.

But the German achievement is deceiving because the level of commitment of its players owed so much to the fact that it was playing at home, before its own fans, in an atmosphere of supercharged enthusiasm.

It is clear that what was once an unquestioned honor — being chosen to play for your country — is no longer such a big deal. It is now something to be weighed carefully against the demands of a heavy schedule and family life ….with the growing likelihood that future generations of highly-paid players will want to curtail their national team careers.