Diego Armando Maradona

Diego Armando Maradona.

The mere mention of his name is enough to send chills down the spine of any football fan, and even at a diminutive 5"5' he stood like a colossus in football; head, shoulders (and fists) above the rest.

There are very few people in any walk of life who can even stake a claim to being the greatest. The likes of Michael Jordan, Albert Einstein, Muhammad Ali, Napoleon Bonaparte. Diego Maradona. And every single one has at least 1 moment that perfectly encapsulates their claim, a moment so definitive it deeply ingrains itself into history. There is no better day to define the life of Diego than the 22nd June 1986, a day in which his lighting struck not once but twice. A day that holds itself in the mythos of World Cup football forever.

So let us go back, remind ourselves of what was so captivating.

First, an Argentina attack early in the 2nd half. The world cup quarter final between them and England is tied at 0-0, the game in the balance and everything to play for. Maradona lays it off to teammate Jorge Valdano whilst continuing his run into the England box in anticipation. Valdano, unable to quite control the ball loses it, but so does England defender Steve Hodge, who unwittingly launches it towards his own goal, and to where behind the England defence Diego has infiltrated. Now the race begins.

Who will get to the airborne ball first? Is it 6 foot tall Peter Shilton in England's goal who can pluck it out of the air, or the little man who is 8 inches his inferior in height and has to rely on his head. Easy, isn't it. Of course, Peter...

Oh, wait, sorry. 1-0 Argentina. How did that happen then? Did Shilton really make such a terrible mistake? Or was Diego able to jump superhumanly high? Let's take a look at the grainy replay, and... ahhh, is that a hand I see? Every England player seemed to believe so. Diego doesn't care, his teammates and countrymen certainly don't either. Take that you pesky Brits, they say, that's what happens when you meddle in the Falklands.

As he wheels away in manic celebration at this miraculous goal, a couple of cheeky glances are given the way of the referee and linesman. What did they see? A perfectly legitimate goal, apparently. The celebrations intensify, and those in blue and white shirts are galvanised. The dark arts have paid off. A nation feels vindicated. England are aggrieved by the injustice that has prevailed. If this is what eliminates them it will be a disgrace.

What is about to happen moments later, however, is quite the opposite.

With 54 minutes gone, Maradona picks up the ball in Argentina's half of the pitch. His teammates, his coach, and all of Argentina look to him for inspiration.

And boy does he deliver.

The ball is passed to Maradona.

Total focus.

Then, something special happens.

Maradona

Twisting

Turning

Teasing

Tantalising

2-0.

Terrific.

Absolute footballing perfection. The Argentina fans cheer in delight! Their players run to their leader, their big game player.

On the other side, awe. Pure dumbfoundedness encompasses the England players. Bobby Robson doesn't believe what he's just seen, neither does anybody else watching. What they just saw, what they just experienced was like a blitz.

Maradona walked through them like they were training cones, as if their presence was nothing to him, like he was painting some beautiful work of art and they were the blank spaces between the brush strokes. It's clear to see why most players on that pitch never forgave him. Imagine being on the wrong end of the 2 most iconic goals ever scored, one so blatantly agaisnt the rules and one that was nothing short of perfect to the the most minute detail.

Perhaps that is what made Diego such a winner. Within him he held a strange balance, like yin and yang. His dark side, doing whatever it took to win no matter the cost. The fierce desire and passion that encapsulated every bone in his body, for that rush of succsss that may have resulted in the problems he encountered later in life.

And then there was his pure side, the side that took his love for football from growing up in the slums of Buenos Aires. The side that loved the game so much that he wouldn't stop until he had absolute perfection, the side that loved football more than anything.

If there is one other trait that is applicable to all greats, it is this. That long after they are gone, there will be those who attempt to replicate and imitate them, both in personality and success. But what can never be quite matched is their legacy. For all the new stars, for all the extravagant personalities in football, there will never quite be anybody like Diego Armando Maradona.

Adios, El Pibe de Oro.