🤑 Libertadores in numbers! ranking of the + valuable, XI and facts

I don’t think anyone would be surprised if we said that the top 5 most valuable clubs in the 2026 Libertadores are Brazilian, right?

But have you ever wondered whether there might be a surprise in the best XI with the most valuable players by position, or in the ranking of the market value of the 32 clubs?

Well, OneFootball did this research on Transfermarket, and you can check out the result below!

Best XI

GK: Hugo Souza (Corinthians) - 11 million euros

RB: Giay (Palmeiras) - 10 million euros

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CB: Léo Ortiz (Flamengo) - 14 million euros

CB: Fabrício Bruno (Cruzeiro) - 12 million euros

LB: Kaiki (Cruzeiro) - 12 million euros

DM: Breno Bidon (Corinthians) - 22 million euros

DM: Gerson (Cruzeiro) - 20 million euros

AM: Lucas Paquetá (Flamengo) - 35 million euros

FW: Yuri Alberto (Corinthians) - 25 million euros

FW: Kaio Jorge (Cruzeiro) - 26 million euros

FW: Vitor Roque (Palmeiras) - 38 million euros

Interesting facts in the Libertadores

1. Financial gulf

Palmeiras’ squad (€223 million), the most expensive in the Libertadores, is almost 31 times more valuable than Always Ready’s squad (€7.2 million), which sits at the bottom of the ranking.

2. Vitor Roque x Always Ready

Vitor Roque, the most expensive player in the competition (€38 million), by himself is worth more than 5 times the combined value of all the players in Always Ready’s squad.

3. Lucas Paquetá’s value

Lucas Paquetá’s individual market value (€35 million) is worth more than entire teams such as Independiente del Valle (€31m), Mirassol (€29m), and LDU (€25.5m).

4. 'The 100 Million Euro Club'

Only 5 teams are worth more than €100 million in squad value, and all of them are Brazilian (Palmeiras, Flamengo, Cruzeiro, Corinthians, and Fluminense).

The richest foreign team is Boca Juniors (€90.85m), which still trails the 5th-placed team by almost €22 million.

5. A trio worth an entire team (and then some)

If we add up only Corinthians’ top 3 players (Yuri Alberto, Breno Bidon, and André), we get €63 million.

That value for just three players is higher than the entire Rosario Central squad (€52.05m), which is the 7th most valuable team in the tournament.

6. Palmeiras x Flamengo

The difference in value between leaders Palmeiras and runners-up Flamengo is exactly €3.8 million.

Curiously, that is the exact market value of Brian Aguirre, the third most valuable player at Estudiantes de La Plata.

7. Mirassol tops giants

Mirassol, making its debut and coming from the countryside of São Paulo, has a squad (€29m) more valuable than those of traditional Libertadores champions such as LDU Quito (€25.5m) and Uruguay’s Club Nacional (€18.45m).

8. Most expensive player x cheapest

Vitor Roque (€38m) is valued at 69 times more than Iván Colman, Pedro Díaz, and Carlos Gamarra (€550k each), who are the most valuable players at Cusco FC.

9. Two clubs against the rest of America

The combined value of Palmeiras and Flamengo (€442.2 million) is greater than the combined value of the 19 least valuable clubs in the competition put together (from 14th-placed Platense to 32nd-placed Always Ready).

10. One club’s ceiling is another club’s floor

Always Ready’s most valuable player, Hector Cuellar (€750k), is so cheap by top-of-the-table standards that he would not even make Bolívar’s top 3, even though Bolívar is only 28th overall in the ranking

Ranking of the most valuable teams

1. Palmeiras (🇧🇷)

- Squad Value: €223 million (R$1.32 billion)

- Top 3:

. Vitor Roque: €38.00m (R$226.10m)

. Flaco López: €22.00m (R$130.90m)

. Ramón Sosa/Jhon Árias/Andreas Pereira/Allan: €15.00m (R$89.25m)

2. Flamengo (🇧🇷)

- Squad Value: €219.20m (R$1.30 billion)

- Top 3:

. Lucas Paquetá: €35.00m (R$208.25m)

. Pedro/Samuel Lino: €17.00m (R$101.15m)

. De Arrascaeta: €15.00m (R$89.25m)

3. Cruzeiro (🇧🇷)

- Squad Value: €166.55m (R$990.97m)

- Top 3:

. Kaio Jorge: €26.00m (R$154.70m)

. Gerson: €20.00m (R$119.00m)

. Matheus Pereira: €14.00m (R$83.30m)

4. Corinthians (🇧🇷)

- Squad Value: €154.30m (R$918.08m)

- Top 3:

. Yuri Alberto: €25.00m (R$148.75m)

. Breno Bidon: €22.00m (R$130.90m)

. André: €16.00m (R$95.20m)

5. Fluminense (🇧🇷)

- Squad Value: €112.63m (R$670.14m)

- Top 3:

. Martinelli: €16.00m (R$95.20m)

. Hércules: €12.00m (R$71.40m)

. Jefferson Savarino: €8.00m (R$47.60m)

6. Boca Juniors (🇦🇷 Argentina)

- Squad Value: €90.85m (R$540.5 million)

- Top 3:

. Santiago Ascacíbar (€7m / R$41.65m)

. Exequiel Zeballos (€7m / R$41.65m)

. Milton Delgado (€7m / R$41.65m)

7. Rosario Central (🇦🇷 Argentina)

- Squad Value: €52.05m (R$309.6 million)

- Top 3:

. Jaminton Campaz (€5.5m / R$32.72m)

. Franco Ibarra (€5m / R$29.75m)

. Julián Fernández (€4m / R$23.80m)

8. Estudiantes de La Plata (🇦🇷 Argentina)

- Squad Value: €42.43m (R$252.4 million)

- Top 3:

. Tiago Palacios (€4.5m / R$26.77m)

. Tomás Palacios (€4.5m / R$26.77m)

. Brian Aguirre (€3.8m / R$22.61m)

9. Peñarol (🇺🇾 Uruguay)

- Squad Value: €41.03m (R$244.1 million)

- Top 3:

. Leonardo Fernández (€7.5m / R$44.62m)

. Matías Arezo (€6m / R$35.70m)

. Nahuel Herrera (€4.5m / R$26.77m)

10. Lanús (🇦🇷 Argentina)

- Squad Value: €39.23m (R$233.4 million)

- Top 3:

. Marcelino Moreno (€5m / R$29.75m)

. Augustín Medina (€4.5m / R$26.77m)

. Nahuel Losada (€3.5m / R$20.82m)

11. Independiente Rivadavia (🇦🇷 Argentina)

- Squad Value: €33.08m (R$196.8 million)

- Top 3:

. Sebastián Villa (€6m / R$35.70m)

. Sheyko Studer (€4.5m / R$26.77m)

. Álex Arce (€3m / R$17.85m)

12. Independiente del Valle (🇪🇨 Ecuador)

- Squad Value: €31.00m (R$184.4 million)

- Top 3:

. Patrik Mercado (€5.5m / R$32.72m)

. Justin Lerma (€3m / R$17.85m)

. Darwin Guagua (€2m / R$11.90m)

13. Mirassol (🇧🇷 Brazil)

- Squad Value: €29.00m (R$172.5 million)

- Top 3:

. Antonio Galeano (€4m / R$23.80m)

. Negueba (€3m / R$17.85m)

. Neto Moura (€2m / R$11.90m)

14. Platense (🇦🇷 Argentina)

- Squad Value: €28.08m (R$167.0 million)

- Top 3:

. Ignacio Vázquez (€2.8m / R$16.66m)

. Matías Borgogno (€2.8m / R$16.66m)

. Maximiliano Amarfil (€2m / R$11.90m)

15. Cerro Porteño (🇵🇾 Paraguay)

- Squad Value: €27.98m (R$166.4 million)

- Top 3:

. Lucas Quintana (€4m / R$23.80m)

. Matías Pérez (€2.8m / R$16.66m)

. Ignacio Aliseda (€2.5m / R$14.87m)

16. LDU Quito (🇪🇨 Ecuador)

- Squad Value: €25.50m (R$151.7 million)

- Top 3:

. Gonzalo Valle (€1.8m / R$10.71m)

. Alexander Alvarado (€1.5m / R$8.92m)

. Janner Corozo (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

17. Libertad (🇵🇾 Paraguay)

- Squad Value: €21.48m (R$127.8 million)

- Top 3:

. Matías Rojas (€2.5m / R$14.87m)

. Alexis Duarte (€2m / R$11.90m)

. Rodrigo Villalba (€2m / R$11.90m)

18. Club Nacional (🇺🇾 Uruguay)

- Squad Value: €18.45m (R$109.7 million)

- Top 3:

. Maximiliano Silvera (€2m / R$11.90m)

. Maxi Gómez (€2m / R$11.90m)

. Luciano Boggio (€2m / R$11.90m)

19. Barcelona SC (🇪🇨 Ecuador)

- Squad Value: €17.18m (R$102.2 million)

- Top 3:

. Jefferson Intriago (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

. Álex Rangel (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

. Miguel Parrales (€1m / R$5.95m)

20. Junior Barranquilla (🇨🇴 Colombia)

- Squad Value: €16.70m (R$99.3 million)

- Top 3:

. Joel Canchimbo (€2m / R$11.90m)

. Cristian Barrios (€1.4m / R$8.33m)

. Luis Muriel (€900k / R$5.35m)

21. Universitario (🇵🇪 Peru)

- Squad Value: €16.05m (R$95.5 million)

- Top 3:

. Jairo Concha (€1.6m / R$9.52m)

. César Inga (€1.5m / R$8.92m)

. Jesús Castillo (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

22. Independiente Medellín (🇨🇴 Colombia)

- Squad Value: €14.85m (R$88.3 million)

- Top 3:

. Halam Loboa (€2.2m / R$13.09m)

. Kevin Mantilla (€1.5m / R$8.92m)

. Francisco Chaverra (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

23. Universidad Católica (🇪🇨 Ecuador)

- Squad Value: €13.80m (R$82.1 million)

- Top 3:

. Gregori Anangonó (€1.3m / R$7.73m)

. Diego Palacios (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

. Azarias Londoño (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

24. Sporting Cristal (🇵🇪 Peru)

- Squad Value: €13.33m (R$79.3 million)

- Top 3:

. Santiago González (€1.8m / R$10.71m)

. Luis Abram (€1.3m / R$7.73m)

. Diego Enríquez (€1m / R$5.95m)

25. Deportes Tolima (🇨🇴 Colombia)

- Squad Value: €12.90m (R$76.7 million)

- Top 3:

. Élan Ricardo (€1.5m / R$8.92m)

. Juan Torres (€900k / R$5.35m)

. Brayan Rovira (€800k / R$4.76m)

26. Independiente Santa Fe (🇨🇴 Colombia)

- Squad Value: €12.55m (R$74.6 million)

- Top 3:

. Jáder Obrian (€1.5m / R$8.92m)

. Nahuel Bustos (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

. Yilmar Velásquez (€900k / R$5.35m)

27. Coquimbo Unido (🇨🇱 Chile)

- Squad Value: €12.43m (R$73.9 million)

- Top 3:

. Francisco Salinas (€1.5m / R$8.92m)

. Benjamín Chandía (€1.2m / R$7.14m)

. Sebastián Galani (€1m / R$5.95m)

28. Club Bolívar (🇧🇴 Bolivia)

- Squad Value: €12.08m (R$71.8 million)

- Top 3:

. Christian Alemán (€1m / R$5.95m)

. Xavier Arreaga (€800k / R$4.76m)

. Brian Oyola (€800k / R$4.76m)

29. Cusco FC (🇵🇪 Peru)

- Squad Value: €8.55m (R$50.8 million)

- Top 3:

. Iván Colman (€550k / R$3.27m)

. Pedro Díaz (€550k / R$3.27m)

. Carlos Gamarra (€550k / R$3.27m)

30. Universidad Central (🇻🇪 Venezuela)

- Squad Value: €7.98m (R$47.4 million)

- Top 3:

. Juan Manuel Cuesta (€850k / R$5.05m)

. Samuel Sosa (€700k / R$4.16m)

. Juan Camilo Zapata (€600k / R$3.57m)

31. Deportivo La Guaira (🇻🇪 Venezuela)

- Squad Value: €7.53m (R$44.8 million)

- Top 3:

. Jorge Gutiérrez (€750k / R$4.46m)

. Flabián Londoño (€600k / R$3.57m)

. Yackson Rivas (€550k / R$3.27m)

32. Always Ready (🇧🇴 Bolivia)

- Squad Value: €7.2m (R$42.8 million)

- Top 3:

. Hector Cuellar (€750k / R$4.46m)

. Marcelo Suárez (€700k / R$4.16m)

. Dario Torrico (€650k / R$3.86m)

This article was translated into English by Artificial Intelligence. You can read the original version in 🇧🇷 here.

In 1965, a group of Israeli amateurs shocked the Soviet chess elite, securing a moral victory in the Cold War arena. The "Miracle in Sinaia" remains a powerful symbol of Israeli resilience.

In the monochromatic landscape of 1965, the world didn’t just play chess; it lived it. The 64 squares of the chessboard were not merely a field of leisure but a high-stakes laboratory for ideological superiority.

For the Soviet Union, the chess crown was the ultimate “proof of concept” for the socialist system—an intellectual steamroller designed to crush the decadent West under the weight of superior dialectical materialism. To lose at chess was not just a sporting failure for Moscow; it was a crack in the very foundation of Marxist-Leninist infallibility. In the Kremlin’s eyes, a grandmaster was as much a soldier of the state as a cosmonaut or a nuclear physicist.

As we mark today, approximately 60 years after the XII FIDE World Student Team Championship, we revisit a moment that defied the geopolitical gravity of the era. In the summer of 1965, amidst the neo-Renaissance splendor of Peles Castle in Sinaia, Romania, the script was unceremoniously shredded. A group of Israeli “amateurs” – engineers and students who viewed chess as a passion rather than a state mandate – did the unthinkable. They didn’t just compete with the Soviet juggernaut; they broke it in a head-to-head match.

It is a distinction of vital historical importance to note that while we celebrate this specific, earth-shattering Israeli victory today, the Soviet Union, ever the resilient powerhouse, managed to recover from this blow and ultimately secure the gold medal and win the championship. Israel did not take first prize, however, it achieved its highest-ever ranking in the history of the tournament to that date, and its individual triumph over the Russians remains the definitive “moral victory” of Cold War sports history.

The magnitude of what happened in Sinaia

To understand the magnitude of what happened in Sinaia, one must first dismantle the myth that this was a casual gathering of university youths. The Soviet Union approached the student Olympiads with the grim determination of a military campaign.

In the early 1960s, the USSR had suffered a series of rare setbacks in the student arena, including a humiliating fourth-place finish in 1963. For the Soviet Chess Federation, this was an emergency. As documented in the Russian archives of “64” magazine, a radical restructuring was ordered.

The team selected for the 1964-1965 cycle was a hand-picked elite, treated with the same rigor as the senior national team. The Soviet “students” were, in reality, professional masters whose entire lives were subsidized by the state to study the game. The squad, comprising Vladimir Savon (a future Soviet champion), German Khodos, Edward Mnatsakanian, and the brilliant young Albert Kapengut, was sent to a secluded, high-security training camp in Bakovka, near Moscow. This was a closed facility usually reserved for the highest level of state preparation.

There, they underwent rigorous “scientific” preparation under the legendary grandmaster Igor Bondarevsy. Perhaps most intimidatingly, the Soviet archives reveal that they were assisted by none other than Boris Spassky. Spassky, who would soon become world champion, spent days at the camp analyzing specific opening variations and sharpening the tactical claws of these “students.”

They arrived in Sinaia equipped with secret “home-cooked” theoretical novelties, vetted by the greatest minds in chess history. The Soviet goal was not just to win the match, but to achieve a clean sweep that would restore the prestige of the socialist school.

On the other side of the board sat the Israelis. If the Soviets were cosmonauts of the mind, the Israelis were its pioneers. The Israeli chess scene of the mid-1960s was a study in contrasts. It was transitioning from the “Big Three” – Moshe Czerniak, Yosef Porat, and Itzhak Aloni, men who had brought the classical refinement of Europe to the Levant – to a new generation born or raised in the heat of the young state.

Yedael Stepak, born in Haifa in 1940, was the quintessential representative of this new wave. Today, Stepak stands as the sole living witness to the miracle, a keeper of a flame that burned brightly in the Romanian mountains. Speaking from a perspective of over six decades, Stepak emphasizes that the Israeli team felt less like a sports delegation and more like a commando unit.

“We weren’t professionals in the Soviet sense,” Stepak explains. “I was a student of engineering, a man of logic and practical application. Meir Raz, Shimon Kagan, Israel Gat—we were a ‘citizen army’ of chess. We didn’t have a Boris Spassky preparing our lines in a secret dacha, and we certainly didn’t have a state budget paying our rent. We had our brains, our friendship, and a specific brand of Israeli chutzpah that refused to be intimidated by the titles, the pedigrees, or the looming shadow of the Iron Curtain.”

The setting for this showdown was as dramatic as the match itself. Sinaia, the “Pearl of the Carpathians,” was a town of royal palaces and dark forests. Romania, under the early, somewhat more independent-minded rule of Nicolae Ceausescu, was undergoing a brief “thaw,” making it a rare neutral ground where East could meet West. Yet, the atmosphere was anything but relaxed.

The Soviet delegation moved like a paramilitary unit, isolated and uniformed. They were accompanied by a retinue of officials who, as Stepak recalls, radiated a “professional coldness.” For the Israeli players, the pressure was both internal and external. They were representing a state that was still fighting for international legitimacy, and they were doing so in a communist country where they felt the constant, invisible eye of the Securitate – the Romanian secret police.

“You felt the weight of the state in every room,” Stepak says. “The Soviet players were under immense pressure to deliver for the party. For them, a loss was a political failure that could affect their careers, their travel privileges, and their standing in Moscow. We, on the other hand, played for the honor of our flag. We were the underdogs, and that gave us a psychological freedom the Soviets lacked.”

Accounts of 'the miracle'

For decades, popular accounts of the “Miracle in Sinaia” have been plagued by factual inaccuracies regarding the board matchups and the specific flow of the games. Integrating the professional analysis from the magazine “64” and Albert Kapengut’s own detailed memoirs, we can finally establish the accurate historical record. The match was not won by a fluke blunder, but by a strategic masterpiece spread across four boards, where the Israelis systematically neutralized the Soviet “home preparation.”

The match lineup was as follows:

1. Board 1: Yedael Stepak vs Vladimir Savon (draw)

2. Board 2: Meir Raz vs German Khodos (draw)

3. Board 3: Shimon Kagan vs Edward Mnatsakanian (draw)

4. Board 4: Israel Gat vs Albert Kapengut (Israel Gat wins)

The tension began on Board 1. Yedael Stepak faced Vladimir Savon, a future Soviet champion and a positional giant. Playing with the black pieces, Stepak was expected to fold under the theoretical novelties the Soviets had prepared at Bakovka.

But the engineer in Stepak took over. He realized that to survive, he had to avoid the “beaten path” of Soviet theory and rely on his own logical calculations. Stepak found a series of “only moves” in a complex, grinding endgame that frustrated Savon. When the draw was agreed, the Soviet camp was visibly rattled. Their Board 1 titan had failed to crush the Israeli amateur.

Boards 2 and 3 followed suit. Meir Raz and Shimon Kagan played with a tenacity that surprised the Soviet analysts. They refused to be intimidated by the aggressive posturing of Khodos and Mnatsakanian.

By holding these boards to draws, the Israelis had effectively neutralized 75% of the Soviet machine. The entire fate of the match – and the prestige of the Soviet Union – now rested on the youngest player on the board.

The ultimate hero of the day, and perhaps the least likely, was Israel Gat. Facing the young prodigy Albert Kapengut, who had been personally coached by Boris Spassky at the Bakovka camp, Gat was the underdog’s underdog.

As Kapengut himself later detailed in his memoirs and in the professional analysis featured in “64” magazine, the psychological pressure on the Soviet side was suffocating. Kapengut reveals that the Soviet preparation had focused on grinding down the Israelis in the endgame, assuming that the “amateurs” would lack the stamina and technical precision of the state-trained masters.

However, Israel Gat turned the tables. He played with a fearless creativity that the Soviet “scientific” method wasn’t prepared for. Instead of playing into the theoretical traps laid out by Spassky, Gat steered the game into murky, tactical waters where raw intuition outweighed memorized lines.

In the heat of the struggle, Gat found a devastating sequence that exploited a slight overextension by Kapengut. When the Soviet player realized he was caught in a tactical web of his own making, a stunned silence fell over the tournament hall in Peleș Castle.

When Kapengut finally tipped his king in resignation, the silence was shattered by the jubilant cheers of the Israeli contingent. The score was 2.5-1.5. David had not just hit Goliath; he had knocked him out. As the Soviet functionaries began to pace in a state of visible fury, the Israeli team realized it had achieved what the rest of the world thought was impossible.

The memoirs of Albert Kapengut provide a rare and fascinating “autopsy” of the Soviet failure from within. He describes the atmosphere in the Soviet delegation as one of “strictest discipline,” where individual creativity was often sacrificed for the safety of the state’s reputation.

Kapengut admits that the Israelis played with a “fantastic momentum” and a psychological freedom that the Soviets simply could not buy with state money. The magazine “64” later analyzed the games with a clinical, almost mournful tone. It acknowledged that the Israeli victory was not a fluke but a result of superior resilience. It noted that Yedael Stepak’s ability to hold Vladimir Savon was a psychological blow from which the team never fully recovered.

For the Soviet masters, being held to a draw by an engineering student was an insult to their professional pride. By the time the match reached the fourth board, the Soviet “scientific” confidence had turned into frantic desperation.

“The Miracle in Sinaia” remains more than just a footnote in a sports almanac. For the Israeli public in 1965, the news was a tonic. It proved that in the realm of the mind, Israel was a superpower. The team returned to a hero’s welcome, dominating the front pages and serving as a potent symbol of Israeli intellectual prowess. For a nation still seeking its footing on the global stage, beating the Soviets at their own game was a psychological victory on par with any military achievement.

It is vital to maintain perspective on the final tournament standings. Despite the shock of this individual defeat, the Soviet Union utilized its depth of talent and professional endurance to ultimately win the gold medal in Sinaia.

It took the championship trophy back to Moscow. However, for Israel, which finished in second place (one point behind the Soviet Union), the 1965 event marked a historical peak in its tournament placement. While it did not stand on the highest podium, the 2.5–1.5 result in its direct confrontation with the Russians was the real “event” of the year.

As Yedael Stepak reflects today, almost 60 years after the victory, the story ends with a touch of classic Israeli irony. Despite the fanfare and the promises of government support that followed the victory, the professional infrastructure the players hoped for never quite materialized. Stepak and his teammates returned to their studies and their jobs; the “miracle” didn’t lead to a state-funded chess academy or a Soviet-style system. They remained, to the end, the “citizen army” of chess.

“Our victory was a sensation,” Stepak reflects. “But we never lost our perspective. We played for honor, for the flag, and for the joy of the struggle. We proved that with minimal funding but maximal devotion, the impossible is possible. That spirit, more than any trophy, is the true legacy of Sinaia.”

The 1965 Sinaia Olympiad serves as a timeless reminder that no hegemony is absolute. Even the most sophisticated machine, backed by the might of a superpower and the analysis of world champions, can be dismantled by a group of dedicated individuals who refuse to follow the script.

As we look back through the lens of the Soviet archives and Stepak’s memory on this anniversary, the “Sinaia Gambit” stands as a testament to the power of the underdog and the enduring magic of the 64 squares.