For those who never saw him or for whom he is just an abstraction, known about but not experienced, just think Leo Messi with menaces.
If Diego Maradona had a functioning right foot there might not be a debate about which diminutive Argentine were the greater.
In the pantheon of all-timers, Pele’s ability in the air arguably eclipses the Argentinian pair but we are talking fractions, and in terms of what a player meant to a community, to a nation, Maradona carries all before him.
Like many a rags-to-riches phenomenon, Maradona had little understanding of the commonalities of normal life. His talent, the pursuit of which began at eight years old, removed him from the grim reality into which he was born. The barrios of Buenos Aires stand comparison with any as an example of how merciless life can be for those at the wrong end of capitalism’s food chain. There are no blue plaques on the walls of the single storey dwelling inhabited by Maradona in Villa Fiorito, a neighbourhood characterised by extreme poverty and violence.
The proximity of poor yet useable outdoor space with a set of goalposts was the accident of birth that would ultimately change the course of this life and gift the sport of football one of its defining figures.
Context deepened his symbolic importance to Argentina, delivering for his country a second World Cup victory in 1986 following the crushing embarrassment on the world stage of the ill-fated Falklands War. It would not have mattered to the 40 or so millions back home had Maradona slam-dunked England out of Mexico with both hands. As fate would have it, he would add a second goal of such subliminal grace and power that there was never any argument about the justification of Argentina’s progress.
We have seen Messi score goals of similar technical virtuosity but never in the national cause and never in a contest so politically freighted. It is ultimately Maradona’s deeds in blue and white stripes that separate him from the equally blessed Messi.
And, of course, the epoch in which he emerged. This was the pre-Bosman period before footballers were hitched to Hollywood talent agencies managing every aspect of their lives and the player/punter interface.
Maradona was the most talked about prospect in South America. From the age of 15 when he made his debut for Argentinos Juniors in the Primera Division he was the head of the household, his economic power soon to be measured in millions. Though his father, who counted among his previous occupations ferrying livestock across the River Plate and working in a chemical factory, was at his side full time, it was Diego calling the shots.
His arrival in Europe in 1982 at Barcelona set a new transfer world record of £5m. He reset the mark two years later moving to Napoli for £6.9m, a club and a city that showered him with as much love and adoration as Boca Juniors and Argentina.
As the world’s most expensive footballer playing in the richest league in the world, Maradona was among the most famous individuals on earth yet without the means to police his appetites. He gorged on all the vices life had to offer, including those supplied by the alternative Neapolitan welfare system known as the Camorra.
Maradona’s association with one of the world’s oldest criminal networks was implied from the beginning and though his time in the city was improbably successful, leading Napoli to a first Serie A title in 1987, and repeated three years later, the intoxicating seven-year episode left him with a cocaine addiction and related issues that would ultimately shorten his life.
News of his death three weeks after his 60th birthday was felt across the globe, a terrible reminder, at least to those he thrilled live, of the gossamer thread that connects us all to this mortal coil.
He was famously unapologetic, regretted not a second of his experience, would not have changed an iota, save perhaps for selection in Cesar Luis Menotti’s 1978 squad and full fitness in the 1990 final when Argentina fell to an 85th-minute goal from West Germany’s Andreas Brehme, a rugged defender who was, in just about every aspect of the football aesthetic, the polar opposite of Maradona.
The bloated, unappealing, end-phase Maradona was a rank caricature of the balletic genius in full plumage. Like many warped by fame and fortune, be they an ageing rock star, a Lemmy, an Ozzy Osborne or even a medieval monarch, Maradona ultimately could not survive the slow, painful retreat from the epic highs of his incomparable youth.
Caged by an unforgettable past, the present would always be framed by disappointment. Better to recall the tempered scimitar scything through defences, leaving one yeoman after another doomed to breathless defeat, than the decadent old man mottled by excess.
Diego Maradona – (1960-2020)
from Football – inews.co.uk https://ift.tt/37bfOZd
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