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The face

DIEGO MARADONA: Hand of forgiveness?

The world sees Diego Maradona as one of the greatest footballers ever to play the game: the English see him as a natural and instinctive cheat, a man who believes he is let off the rules that govern other people, a person with a soul-deep affinity for the sordid and the disreputable.

This English viewpoint comes, of course, from the goal he scored against England in the World Cup of 1986: the one that, as he infamously said afterwards, was “a little bit the head of Maradona and a little bit the hand of God”. But now, after 20 years, he has apologised. Well, sort of. He has been in England, and he told The Sun: “If I could apologise and go back to change history, I would do.”

England supporters will feel like the wife of a philandering husband: “If I could apologise for sleeping with my secretary, I would.”

So the goal was not a goal and now the apology is not an apology. And besides “Argentina won the World Cup and I was the best player in the world”. No one could top that as a moral argument. Maradona has cheated on his apology as he cheated with the goal.

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The goal upset all England, for during a World Cup the entire country gets embroiled. But it wasn’t precisely a moral disapproval. It was the flamboyant cheekiness of it: the bravura nature of his dishonesty. It was Maradona’s urchin relish that cut so deep. He has talked about a culture clash: a different attitude, not just to games, but to the way in which you cheat at them. But his subsequent career has been that of a man with a pathological tendency to break as many rules as possible. He has extorted serial forgiveness from his nation and his loved ones. Eight years after the hand-of-God goal he was sent home from another World Cup after testing positive for five banned substances. He has been suspected of links with organised crime. He has been caught in sexual scandals.

He has fired an airgun at journalists. He has had a love affair with cocaine. His weight has peaked at 20st (127kg), not bad for 5ft 5in (1.52m). He made a series of retirements and comebacks from football, and made abortive attempts to become a manager.

But management of himself is a first requirement here, and that has never been his strong point. These days he makes a career of sorts as an ex-genius. He prizes a friendship with Fidel Castro and likes to cause the odd bit of scandal by telling the world on a TV programme that George Bush is an idiot.

All Maradona has ever done well in his life is to play football. But here he was great: not only brilliantly gifted with the ball, but also capable of powering an entire team at the highest possible level of the game. And that is an attribute that only the very best possess.

Maradona was the opposite of Oscar Wilde, who put his genius into his life and his talent into his work. Maradona put his genius into his football: and had nothing left, not even talent, for real life.