Maradona thinks about playing the long ball and goes "Naaa..."
"Harimau mati meninggalkan belang..."
As was the case with this small, stout senor. Exactly at this stage of the competition 20 years ago. And this was against a respectable, decent enough England team!
I'm sure as hell hoping for more of the same as we move into the quarter-finals tonight. If that is too much to ask for - and I think it probably is - then something really memorable would suffice.
20 years ago the world was at the tip of Maradona's toes; he receives the ball in his own half and with the poise of a ballet dancer (and seemingly without needing to move more than a few feet) he turns to lose two Englishmen (and a lethargic third giving chase), accelerates past another two, rounds off the on-rushing Peter Shilton, shrugs off a last-ditch chop-down by Terry Butcher and one man in the near post, and with the flick of a boot writes himself into the annals of football immortality.
Whose name do the Gods of football call this year?