Violence was the central theme going into what promised to be an enthralling quarter-final match at the Azteca stadium in Mexico City during the 1986 World Cup.
The contest had all the makings of a cinematic potboiler. There was the bloody Falklands war of 1982 that intensified the battle between the two footballing powerhouses. Twenty years earlier, the two teams had played out a physical contest that saw England nick it by a goal.
After the game, the Three Lions’s only World Cup winning manager, Alf Ramsey, lashed out at the uncompromising style of the Argentinians – “animals” is how the Englishman had described his opponents.
The Argentina faithful wanted a win at all costs and the bloodshed continued hours before the contest had started. Former Albiceleste skipper Roberto Pergumo said: “In 1986, winning that game against England was enough. Winning the World Cup was secondary for us. Beating England was our real aim.”
The animosity had reached fever pitch building up to the game. England’s hooligans and Argentina’s own set of ultras, the barrabravas, were embroiled in a brawl on the streets of Mexico City. The bad blood between the two sets of fans continued inside the stadium too.
The focus then turned towards the contest. In some media circles, it was dubbed as a contest between the genius of Diego Armando Maradona and his rag-tag group facing up against a formidable, water-tight English defence. English clubs were going through a purple patch in Europe during the late 1970s to the mid-eighties.
Gone were the brutal, physical ways of Argentina’s past. They were now hurting opponents with the ball at their feet. Maradona had two trustworthy attackers in the twin Jorges – Burruchaga and Valdano. England had a solid team and it could be argued that they were a better all-round unit than Argentina, who looked slightly imbalanced on paper. And it was the men in the dark blue shirts who saw much of the ball in the first half. An inspired Maradona’s twinkle toes had the English backline in sixes and sevens. Goalkeeper Peter Shilton was called into action on a number of occasions by his opponents, who were attacking relentlessly.
England, had a golden opportunity of their own but Peter Beardsley failed to capitalise. The first half had set the tone for a fascinating second period on what was a balmy summer’s day.
Argentina didn’t take their foot off the accelerator and six minutes in, Maradona sent his nation into collective delirium. Sir Bobby Robson and his English side were left befuddled at what had unfolded.
Pint-size inspiration
The ball bobbed up in the air from a deflection and a determined Maradona, fighting for the ball, had only Shilton ahead of him. And it should have been a no-contest with a pint-size 5’5” attacker jostling for the ball with a burly goalie. The Argentina number 10 put his left hand out, and punched the ball into the net.
The angered English protested in droves; nearly half-a-dozen hounded the linesman and the referee. There was no stopping the elated Maradona, who wheeled away in celebration. The Argentine skipper had urged his teammates not to blink: “I was waiting for my teammates to embrace me, and no one came... I told them, ‘Come hug me, or the referee isn’t going to allow it.’”
The controversial moment went down in football history as the “Hand of god”. It was coined when after the game, Maradona famously quipped, “[It was] a little with the head of Maradona and a little with the hand of God.”
The goal of the century
Four minutes later, it was Maradona’s ball skills that took centrestage. From near the half-way line, the then 25-year-old scurried away from two defenders.
There were no rabona tricks, no back-heel flicks to take the ball over the defender’s head or any of the Ronaldinho-patented wizardly that defenders could only stand and applaud. Peter Beardsley, Peter Reid, Terry Butcher and Terry Fenwick were established defenders at the time. They were however, invisible to the bull from Lanus.
The ball stuck to Maradona’s majestic left foot like glue, dropping his shoulders and cutting it this way and that to leave defenders flat-footed. It was executed at walking pace, almost inviting the opponents, only for Maradona to bait and tease them.
The run continued and he had now reached the box, and still had Shilton and Butcher to beat. From a tight angle, Maradona dragged the ball away from the diving goalkeeper and tucked it home. If there was ever a goal to illustrate how a team fared during a World Cup, it was that – Maradona dragging his team to glory.
Despite a late goal from Gary Lineker, the Argentinians held on to progress through to the semi-finals.
Maradona had etched his name in gold, leading his team to their second World Cup semi-final. More importantly, it was the manner in which it was done. Argentina’s prodigal son had landed the ‘punch’ and later, twisted the knife with skill, that embarrassed the English.
Diego was not just carrying his mad genius. He was fighting the enemy with the baggage of the Falklands war on his shoulders, and puncturing a hole in the elitist English hegemony. Widely regarded as one of the greatest to have played the game, Maradona’s life after that World Cup was punctuated with incredible highs and many soul-crushing lows away from the arena.
But he never once regretted the methods he used to topple the English. The cheeky Maradona didn’t care. He had written a script even the most far-right Argentinian nationalist would have struggled to come up with. Years later, in his autobiography, he wrote: “I sometimes think I preferred the one with my hand.” Why? “It was a bit like stealing the wallet of the English.”
Around the world, though, it was his second goal that entered footballing folklore. Fifa, on its website, termed it the ‘Goal of the Century’. Argentina and its football was never the same again. The Batistutas, Riquelmes and eventually, the Messis were left with a benchmark as high as Mount Aconcagua to live up to.
