I have a team mate from Argentina here in London. We were talking about Maradona a few weeks back.
I thought when talking about him that if he showed up in London, there would be a mob around him, but it would be 50% people wanting his signature and selfies, and the other 50% would want to give him a piece of their mind about the Hand of God goal.
He probably wouldn't have been safe in London. As a Man City supporter, I know my estimation of Aguero was dinted a little when I found out he was Maradona's son-in-law.
Why? I remember that handball goal (it was not "the hand of god", it was deliberate handball), as being the moment in my childhood that I realised I could not trust some adults. Some adults - it became clear to me then - were dishonest. Even if they were brilliant, talented and otherwise seemingly worthy of respect, they were capable of cheating and not caring. To a young child (I was approaching my 8th birthday at the time), that was shocking to the core, and I cried, not just at England losing the game but that he - and an entire team, an entire country of adults - had cheated and felt fine with it.
Part of my childhood ended with that goal. I know I'm not alone.
I would have been in the group wanting a selfie though.
Imagine how the Argentines felt when they saw the English team kicking Maradona, trying to hurt him and break his legs during the match, knowing it was a one man team. My point is, in football no one expects you to like your opponents. So there's nothing wrong with not liking Maradona :)
I thought when talking about him that if he showed up in London, there would be a mob around him, but it would be 50% people wanting his signature and selfies, and the other 50% would want to give him a piece of their mind about the Hand of God goal.
He probably wouldn't have been safe in London. As a Man City supporter, I know my estimation of Aguero was dinted a little when I found out he was Maradona's son-in-law.
Why? I remember that handball goal (it was not "the hand of god", it was deliberate handball), as being the moment in my childhood that I realised I could not trust some adults. Some adults - it became clear to me then - were dishonest. Even if they were brilliant, talented and otherwise seemingly worthy of respect, they were capable of cheating and not caring. To a young child (I was approaching my 8th birthday at the time), that was shocking to the core, and I cried, not just at England losing the game but that he - and an entire team, an entire country of adults - had cheated and felt fine with it.
Part of my childhood ended with that goal. I know I'm not alone.
I would have been in the group wanting a selfie though.