In the winter of 1986, possibly 1987, I dragged Mel skiing. She was never the biggest fan, but a (wo-)man’s gotta do… We skied in Cervinia, fab resort that links over to Zermat from the top of one alp or another. They have a signpost with an Italian flag one way and a Swiss the other. And if you (in those heady, pre-Schengen days) accidentally fell down the Swiss side without your passport and several Swiss Francs you were royally fucked. Because they wouldn’t let you in, nor use the lift to get back without payment, Swiss francs only. If ever there was a reason to distance yourself from Europe, even though the Swiss were never members of ‘that club’, that was it.

However, we flew back from Milan (I think, possibly Turin). And were in ‘international departures’ waiting for our flight home. There was a big glass wall separating us from ‘domestic departures’ so we didn’t have to join all those smelly Italians. And suddenly there was what looked like a riot. As virtually all of our flight went rushing to the ‘wall’ and started shouting and screaming and, I first thought, raising their fists. But on the inevitable closer inspection it turned out that the single occupant, plus standard ‘entourage’, of the domestic lounge was Diego Maradona. He flew in from Rio and was connecting to Napoli, for whom he plied his trade. And the ‘raised fists’ were in reality, obviously, indicators of the handball for his (in)famous ‘hand of God’ goal against England at the World Cup.

And Diego sat there laughing and clapping. He thought it was brilliant. Even though only a glass wall separated him from possible death. Hell hath no fury like 200 cheated footy fans.

In that fateful match, Diego scored 2 goals. Both of which are still talked about. The first because it was a handball and second because it is reputedly ‘the best ever World Cup goal’. Probably making the first ‘the worst ever World Cup goal’.

Am I alone in thinking that first goal, the fateful ‘hand of God’ effort, in fact stands alone as unquestionably the finest goal ever scored? That it showed chutzpah. It showed guile. It showed an intelligence and understanding of the position of the ref, the linesmen, and amazing ability to just simply get away with it. Which, airports of disgruntled fans aside, he bloody did. Whereas the second goal was just about unbelievable skill, incredible ball control, body movement, sensational running and a superb finish when he was almost on his back.

The world has lost a God. Possibly a devil. Is there much of a difference?

Pele was and still is a lovely guy. Lionel Messi seems quiet and content. As you should be for about 20 million a year. And how you rank Diego Maradona in that unquestionable ‘top 3 of all time’ players, he was certainly the most wild, the most unpredictable, the most smiling, shouting, ranting, screaming, drug-crazed, underweight, overweight and definitely interesting of the three. All that often quite horrendous baggage simply added to the legend.

He was a genius. But only with the ball at his feet. Or in his hand.

Farewell Diego.

A xxxx