There was no one who looked as much like himself as Diego Maradona when he played. They have written more than eighty songs for him, he has documentaries, books, even a church. The great writers began to write articles about him.
Because good and evil are represented in Diego. Maradona was down and he was up, he survived everything. His talent went beyond prodigious technique.
He suffered, like everyone else, occasional short circuits. He abandoned himself to laziness, because he is Maradona and he can afford it; But when a situation had to be faced, interpreted and decided, it was still great.
Diego was Gardel. Someone who did differently what many could not even do. So Argentine, so Neapolitan. The man who dominated the ball in the air, taquito, head, with his thigh, with the tips of his black boots and untied. A political, social and cultural phenomenon.
A God, even for whom there is no God. Anyone who has been in front of him knows how time stops in his wake, even when today is slow.
In Buenos Aires, Dubai or Sinaloa, Maradona maintained the link with his class. He made Boca, Barcelona and Naples champions. He wore the laces untied when he was a gazelle with the ball.
Diego was the Argentine team, the fuss in Italy, the cocaine in Barcelona and the trips to Cuba, with Fidel on the train. It was "the ball is not stained" on the La Bombonera court, the king of great phrases, the one who drags the "eeeee" when he speaks.
It was all that and more. The united spirit of Hugo Chávez and Che Guevara. A totem. The soccer genius who turns 60 today and continues to do what he wants, despite the pandemic.
