unprecedented take of MARADONA’s goal to the English


The “goal of the century” continues to bring joy to soccer fans around the world. 34 years after the feat of Maradona was completed, a new clip

This Monday, June 22, 34 years of the triumph of the Argentine team over the England team in the 1986 World Cup in Mexico were celebrated. But beyond the result, what marked that historic day was the brilliant deployment of Diego Armando Maradona when making the call “goal of the century“, that moved a country.

Although the goal, seen hundreds – or thousands – of times by Maradona fans is always recognized in the official images that were broadcast during the event, the truth is that there are other films. Precisely, one of them appeared these days and shows Maradona as never before wrapped in his moment of glory.

It must be remembered that in the same game of the “goal of the century”, Diego also he “goal with the hand, another milestone – much discussed, it is true – in the history of the World Cups.

The goal for the English in the memory of Valdano

There was a day, in Mexico, when a man became a god of human proportions, and I was there. As an apostle. Days later, the players of the Argentine team returned to Buenos Aires world champions, but as citizens. Diego did it on top of a white horse, like General San Martín, our liberator.

This is how Jorge Valdano, the former footballer and companion of Diego Maradona in the Mexico ’86 World Cup, begins his review at that time. And it continues:

34 years passed and time was blurring that World Cup. Even the final agony was becoming blurred in the memory of those who enjoyed it and it is hardly a statistical data for those who were not born.

The opposite happened with both Maradona’s goals against England, brightened by the legend, Mystified by emotion, controversy and beauty, it is already a heroic, albeit fictional, chapter of the Falklands War.

The images are reviewed over and over again on the networks, and the story of Víctor Hugo Morales has already been integrated by all the generations who want to relive the epic of that afternoon.

Indeed: “It is for crying.”

Big game for rivalry (not just football), for genius (of course) and also for ethical debate. But above all for the colossal sense of opportunity, which made a man, at the right time, in the right place and before the right rival, become a hero.

The following would give for an essay, but I will reduce it to the maximum. That afternoon everything reached a meaning that transcended the innocence of the game. Juan Sasturain, in La patria transpirada, says: “Sweat is to the shirt what blood to the flag in the war“No party deserved this phrase more than that England-Argentina. Also i will pass quickly by The hand of God. In fact, I already passed. Because the occasion needs all the dignity to sing to an excellence never seen: that of Argentina’s second goal.

I, who was passing by, am in a position to ensure that that day Diego was in a state of grace. Her legs gleamed as if they had been varnished for the occasion. His figure grew larger with the passage of minutes, as happens with great artists when they go into a trance on stage. His eyes drilled, the ball obeyed, the referee hallucinated … In the Argentine attack that he gave Diego that day, he had already laid down one of our obsessions: mischief. The other was missing: virtuosity.

He had already starred in several links interrupted with fouls, sometimes at the beginning of the play and other times on the edge of the area. As even the greatest talents have a limit and Diego was taking him further and further, each play seemed to me the last of a long exhibition. Like those fireworks that are increasing their spectacularity and one says to himself more than once: “This is the last one.” But no, there is still the total fire of all colors. Diego kept the final prodigy, a goal that turned all of the above into sketches of the definitive work of art.

He started doing mischief in the center of the field without making it seem like a goal project. It was not. But he did not stop until he got into the goal, in an athletically mediocre and footballingly wonderful career. Here a turn, there an acceleration followed by a brake, beyond the swindle of a threat … The ball, to all this, meekly followed all the occurrences of the conjurer. The ideas, discarded and exploited, were happening at a dizzying pace, but Diego’s brain did not allow them to pile up and only kept the best ones.

Maradona and Valdano, partners in the feat of Mexico 86

When he stepped into the area, he began to smell danger and the excitement endowed him with a wisdom that brought together the spontaneity cultivated since he was a child in Villa Fiorito, thousands of hours of training, the zigzag flashes typical of genius and the ambition of a competitive beast. I was chewing on the biggest goal in football history. Osvaldo Soriano, writer and soccer fan, surely thought of Maradona when he spoke of “the poetry of the body” in soccer. There was a musicality to each movement, a provocative attitude at every step, and a “more difficult still” at every touch.

Maradona, “a man making history”

It was impossible to prevent it. When a man is making history, nothing and no one can interfere. Everything is aligned. Even the English, fierce enemies, came out in search of him at the right time not to find him at the right time. How many coincidences does a mythological fact need! They even made you want to believe in fate. I accompanied at the height of the second stick, half scared when he said, “Now give it to me,” and relieved when he saw that “now he can’t.” And so, at the stroke of “now he gives it to me and now he can’t”, he hypnotized me until I was awakened by a thunderous scream.

It was So when I saw that a row of English players had been left on the road, Perplexed, they began to wonder: “What other thing than what I did could I have done?” They never found an answer. Yes someday this article gets into the hands of some of them, will return the memory and the reproach. No more suffering, boys, that afternoon there was nothing to do.

1986: Maradona propelled Argentina towards a new world title.

1986: Maradona propelled Argentina towards a new world title.

Given the incredible fait accompli, Diego kept running towards the corner that was on his right, beginning the celebration and aware that the perfect hour had arrived: that of a before and after. The rumor of tens of thousands of unbelievers came down from the stands, happy because they were going to be able to repeat, throughout their lives: “I was there.” Television was chasing the scorer to the satisfaction of millions of still astonished glances, and desperate photographers were chasing an image at the height of advent.

All eyes converged on him and that gave him a power that produced a fascinating and surprising effect: Diego had no doubt that he deserved that madness. Trait that I also suspected in his day of Pelé or, later, of Jordan. Undoubtedly, an exclusive security of geniuses.

As for me, the moment I saw the ball go in, I went to pick it up inside the goal and found it surrendered, like dead. A bird with only its head hanging down. To me the goal had caused me something similar, but the other way around, as if a football binge had satiated me. For one thing or another, the ball and I believed that it was not worth continuing to play after what happened. What was the point? Soccer had just said it all.

It was impossible for the world to know what was happening to the ball and me because Another consequence of the goal is that everyone, people and things, cease to exist. We went into a kind of underground. What a missed opportunity! If he had run away with the ball under his arm, like a petty thief, today he would make his fortune in an Internet auction. Even the English would bid on that ball. With how clever I sometimes believe myself, it never occurred to me.

The world belonged to that guy who ran and instantly knew, because his instinct always worked at a speed that was the reflection of the reflection, which had crossed over to the other side: that of the few who know glory. We adored and envied him in similar measure because he had just done what, asleep or awake, we had all dreamed of. To put some dignity to my role in that majestic work, and after saying to me, something offended by so much superiority, “that I shout it alone”, I volleyed the ball and I went, resigned, to hug him.

As can be seen in the television images, the air of the Azteca Stadium had a different thickness, and that afternoon it projected a light that seemed to want to illuminate a biblical painting: Diego, still kneeling, me lifting him to hug him as if he were an equal (he didn’t sneak) and, in the background, the stadium full of people with their mouths open. There are episodes that make time not run the same, even stop, as in a photograph. Even the memory I’m going to has an unreal speed.

But life does not stop at anything and the referee, who had exhausted his historical sense by validating God’s hand, was in a hurry. So it was necessary to remove from the center, like someone pressing the play, so that the game could be played again and the world would work.

The ball, which always comes back, was already there, apparently recovered and waiting. You had to keep playing, only one, already forever, on top of a white horse. And the others with him pleasure and even the honor of having witnessed a magical episode that, since that day, grows and grows in the emotional memory of millions of people who were and were not in the stadium, who are or are not Argentines, who were born or not yet born. An extraordinary fact built with the material with which legends are made.

Since that soccer summit, nobody knows exactly how Diego’s day to day was. How much he enjoyed, how much he suffered, how much he struggled. Because soccer was his paradise, but in life he knew hell.

The advantage of repairing at the moment when you had the privilege of looking at the world from the highest point is that we can admire the unique sparkle of a colossal genius. That play combined the magic of Maradona and the power of soccer. Association already invincible, because since that goal, Maradona and soccer are synonyms. If not, ask that ball, bewitched by the state of grace of that prodigious left-hander who, one unforgettable day, managed to surrender it.

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