I first noticed this young prodigy from Argentina from the pages of The Sportstar, the influential Indian magazine that is so familiar to many Indians of my generation – I was just 11 years old then. The 1982 World Cup was being previewed by the publication in a bumper issue and the magazine led off with a story on the defending champions and their new starlet. He immediately captured my attention, as there seemed something unusual about him even then. Maradona had an unusual debut World Cup, showing glimpses of his undoubted talent and yet his temperament seemed fragile – constant niggling fouls led to frustration and a red-card dismissal against Brazil, as Argentina crashed out.
The notorious Italian defender Claudio Gentile (“there was nothing gentle about him”, as someone quipped) was asked why he fouled Maradona 22 times in their chaotic 1982 World Cup game. Gentile’s reply was short and to the (cynical) point: “Well, football is not for ballerinas.” Sadly, the treatment Maradona got at the hands of defenders at this time was astonishingly brutal – I always compare that to the far-greater protection the maestros of the game receive now. Yet, to my knowledge, Maradona never complained about it – he would just get up and get on with the game. And mind you, this was a man who had a comment or a complaint about almost everything going on in his world…
But then came 1986, and the World Cup that ensured Maradona’s name in the football pantheon. Most of us know that particular story, and so it does not need repetition. He was in prime physical condition and there seemed virtually nothing he could not do with that wand of his left foot. Allied to that was great leadership skills, single-minded focus and undoubted charisma - he was on top of the world.
At club level, he was also leading a lowly team, Napoli, to the peak of Serie A, arguably the toughest league at the time. Most of us missed those games as very few were telecast in India. But Maradona fans knew what was going on and how a quiet revolution was happening that was upsetting the balance of power in Italian football. For once, mighty Juventus and AC Milan were being challenged and beaten by this scrappy team from down south of the country. British filmmaker Asif Kapadia’s acclaimed 2019 documentary, Diego Maradona, focuses on this phase of an extraordinary life and it should be a must-watch to anyone who loves sport.
Then came the well-documented decline and fall from grace. Reports of Maradona getting into drugs and alcohol and flirting with the Italian mafia became more and frequent. There were paternity claims. He seemed to be going completely haywire all at once. There were lurid stories of excesses for years, most of which were undoubtedly true and which were never denied.
The 1990 World Cup showed an ugly, cynical Argentina team which an injured and distracted Maradona still managed to drag to a sorry final. Sadly, those who watched the genius that year went away with another (much more negative) impression of the man. Was he finished with the sport he had illuminated for a decade and more?
Not yet – by this time the drug addiction was out of control and even Maradona’s beloved adopted city of Naples had had enough of their prodigal son. He seemed to get fit by the time of the 1994 World Cup and I remember the thrill I felt on seeing his last goal for his country and the manic celebrations that followed it. Then came another defining moment of an intensely troubled life – thrown out of the World Cup after the discovery of a cocktail of drugs in his system, he pleaded he was set up but even his most devoted fans had trouble believing that. This was a man in turmoil. I felt immensely sad, but there was also a certain inevitability to what was going on. His life was a car wreck happening in real time, with no one able to do anything about it.
Maradona staggered on, through the late 1990s and the early 2000s, with numerous health issues and treatments, wild statements, strange TV appearances, weight swings, fights with journalists… Then came only one last appearance on the global stage – this time as the colourful manager of the national team in the 2010 World Cup with Lionel Messi as the spearhead. The team made an impressive start but a crushing defeat to Germany in the quarterfinals ensured Maradona was out of the topmost position he would reach in his managerial career. But, for a few days that summer, he made me dream again of yet another triumph against great odds.
A famous 2012 visit by Maradona to my (football-mad) part of the world in India - to inaugurate a new showroom of a jewellery chain in Kannur - was another headline-making moment for those of us who adored him. A childhood friend of mine even dropped everything and flew all the way from Mumbai to North Kerala and improbably managed to meet the legend for a few minutes in an airport lobby – my pal even got Maradona to sign a copy of his autobiography (a treasured possession now). I shared in the happiness of that encounter when my friend related it to me a few days later. We still talk about it, years afterwards, of course.
Sometimes I wonder if I would love football so much, if I hadn’t seen Maradona in action at such an impressionable age. He was the ultimate underdog from the slums, with barely any education. Because of his larger-than-life personality, people tend to forget that he was a small chap (just 1.65m tall) in a world full of much bigger men. Maradona’s right foot was decent but not world-beating. He could barely manage to head the ball since he was so short. But his divine left foot, colourful character and outspoken nature have ensured he is always ranked among the greatest figures to have played the “beautiful game” at the highest level.
If not for his many vices, there is no doubt in my mind that Maradona would have been unanimously declared as the finest footballer ever, even by the Brazilians who cannot see beyond a certain Pele. But, to me – and the millions of other Maradona devotees worldwide – there is only one GOAT (“Greatest of All Time”). And that was the complicated figure from the obscure Buenos Aires province who went to play on the football pitch in the sky a few days ago.
A shorter version of the above article was published in The Business Times, Singapore on Nov 29, 2020