Every 4 years the world goes insane for just over a month. Temporarily, every country is gripped by football as a new world cup dawns. Countries that we didn't even know had teams begin pumping money into their futile campaigns and when they are inevitably knocked out they wonder why. Their eyes are blinded by the world cup fever, blinded to the reality that their country is cack and that the history of the world cup is the only rule that is important, the law that states that a list of around 7 countries have the capacity to win, always have, always will, and that all others will not become 'giant killers' or 'the dark horse surprise' but insignificant states once more.
Unlike previous blogs this isn't going to focus on the obvious issues raised by the madness of the world cup spirit and effects on the nation. The fake pride and patriotism that sweeps the cuntry like the plague but ends up evolving into bitterness, blame and incitement of national hatred. Patriotism was shown at Rorke's Drift by 139 who stood (successfully) in the face of 4000, not down the road in soccer city or Durban's stadiums. Nor will it focus on the exploiting of the world cup by the unstoppable and ruthless machine of advertising, the attachment of all non-football related products to the 'beautiful game'.
It occurred soon into my 4th world cup that the start, the group stages, were going to be wholly uninspiring. The tactic of defense took over like the plague and after every game, one was left numbed by the previous 90 minutes of mediocrity. So if the scorelines weren't going to impress me i had to look for something that did, for something that would keep me supporting a team other than their blissful skill. I didn't have to look far.
What caught my eye amongst a field of inadequacy was not so much the on field action, but instead, the off field happenings. Maradona, for the uninitiated, is best associated with (in order of appearance) footballing supremacy, cheating, drinking, rehab, drug abuse, rehab, obesity, I'd imagine some sort of rehab, political insensitivity and boldness, social insensitivity and firearm abuse. Maradona has all the qualifications of a bastard, of a once great sporting figure but now of someone worthless. It looked like the end for Diego, Maradona wouldn't ever Scrabble his way out of this hole....
Whats truly amazing is that not only did he, but has done so with unprecedented success. Maradona has fostered a personality cult similar only to the rise of Stalin whereby he is both untouchable and unrivaled. His status within the context of Argentina has reached absurd heights. All around the stadiums i looked for the faces of the players, of Messi, the worlds number one, but all i could see was the face of a legendary looking Maradona, he was being worshipped like a God. This bought me and my support and since I have an irrational hatred for all Argentinians; through natural selection its been bred into the British genotype since the Falklands, this was quite something.
Who'd have thought how accurate the phrase 'Hand of God' would play to be. Perhaps it was, through a eureka moment Maradona realised that he could nurture this phrase and from it become a national hero; it must have dawned on him that chasing the 'radical political activist' image would serve only to bump him up in some peoples estimations but isolate him in others, whereas if he led his county in a different sense, through what he used to be great at and was typically remembered for, he could sway the opinion of the whole nation.
Everything about him oozed superiority, his image, if devised by himself, is as cunning as it is lavish. His suit, his grey beard of wisdom, his black beard (every insane leader has some form of dodgey facial hair), his jewelry that pointed to the Persian king Xerxes, his surface camaraderie, his aggressive body language, his excessive public acts of religious belief; everything depicts a leader of the people. And they love him...the players hug him respect him, the crowds cheer for him, Maradona, through his very own guile, has managed to pull back from the brink of uselessness and has cultured a life of ultimate greatness, has cultured a life that is exactly similar to the great repressive leader Stalin, but in a modern and acceptable manner, he's fulfilled this image through football, he is as close as one could get to becoming a dictator with out becoming a dictator...after all everyone outside Argentina hates the man.
I fully respect the focus of Diego Armando Maradona, to achieve his ultimate potential before he inevitably becomes stardust and remembered for being a fat turd. I wont subscribe to his cult of personality, i wont regard him as my leader, but i respect what he has done for every man desires that same thing on some level, and i will thusly support Argentina in the 2010 world cup, if they win, who knows what bizarre heights Maradona will reach, my mouth salivates at the prospect.
It would be unfair to suggest Argentina weren't also a great footballing team, it was as much a joy to watch them as it was Maradona....that is until the quarter final stage where they were smashed into the ground by the Reich.
No comments:
Post a Comment