Sunday, July 13, 2014

Germany-Argentina: the rise and fall of Diego Armando Maradona, 1986-1990

In 84 years of World Cup there have been only two repeat finals: Italy-Brazil (1970, 1994) and Argentina-Germany (1986, 1990). Tonight, the latter becomes the first three-peat. As usual, the Italians have a word for that: la bella. Literally meaning "the beautiful one," idiomatically it means a "decider," like a best-of-3 game of rock-paper-scissors that needs a final throw after the players have split the first two. Argentina triumphed in 1986 and Germany in 1990, so this one is la bella.

But tonight is not about bragging rights, nor about history. Especially for those involved, tonight is about tonight, and there will be time to tell its story later. So here are the stories of its precedents, Argentina-West Germany at Mexico 1986 and Italy 1990.

In both cases, the unchallenged lead character is Diego Armando Maradona.


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Argentina 3-2 West Germany
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Estadio Azteca, Mexico City, 29 June 1986
attendance: 114,700    referee: Romualdo Filho (Brazil)


Argentina came in as favorites after a convincing World Cup campaign on the coattails of Diego Maradona's idol status. The quarterfinal against England was already iconic, with its Hand of God, the Goal of the Century, and the "barrilete cósmico!" Germany instead had struggled in the group stage and in a tough quarterfinal with host country Mexico, before again beating Platini's France in the semifinals, though much more easily than they had in 1982.

Germany were also in the middle of a major generational shift, fielding players from both the old guard (Briegel, Rummenigge, Schumacher) and the eventual 1990 squad (Matthaus, Brehme, Voller, Berthold). Argentina were young and rampant instead, playing almost no one from 1982 and almost everyone who would also be part of the 1990 squad. Maradona himself, of course, was their northern star.

Argentina's destiny seemed manifest when they were up 2-0 with 15 minutes left to play. But the Germans still had a sting in the tail. Rummenigge tapped in Brehme's corner in the small box, and six minutes later Völler equalized with a nearly identical play that caught Argentina's lazy defense with their pants down. Just like that it was 2-2, and Maradona's personal sponsor from upstairs seemed to have forsaken him.

Diego thought otherwise. He had not scored in the final after his epic doubles against England and Belgium, but he exhibited brief flashes of brilliance to remind us that he was still Diego, though temporarily inconvenienced by the heavy German marking. In the quarters he had dribbled five Englishmen on his way to history. Here, in the 84th minute, he was surrounded by five Germans at midfield, so he did what he wasn't best known for: he passed the ball. Completely unmarked, "El Burro" (the donkey) Jorge Burruchaga ran 50 yards and gently pushed the game winner past Schumacher. Argentina repealed Germany's final siege and won their second World Cup title after the Shame of 1978.

As with many famous matches, not all of it was beautiful, but the parts that were remain memorable. Just as one typically only watches the extra time of Italy-Germany 4-3, where five of the seven goals were scored, likewise one typically watches the last half-hour of Argentina-Germany 3-2.


Gallery (click to enlarge)

Teams presentation
Rummenigge's 2-1 goal (74')
Voller's 2-2 goal (81')
Burruchaga's 3-2 goal (84')
Maradona's spectacular dive (88')
El Pibe de Oro

Click here for an amazing gallery of more Diego pictures from 1986.
If you understand Italian, here is an excellent biopic about Diego.



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West Germany 1-0 Argentina
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Stadio Olimpico, Rome, 8 July 1990
attendance: 73,603    referee: Edgardo Codesal (Mexico)



Chris Taylor calls the 1990 World Cup final "a crime against humanity." He's not wrong. By any accounts, this was the most disgraceful final at a major international tournament and one of the least decorous matches I've ever seen, right up there with the Battle of Santiago.

The story of this final begins in the semifinal, five days prior, with a press conference in Naples. It is worth discussing the background in some detail before talking about the match proper.
Germany's and Argentina's roles were virtually reversed from 1986. The Germans were confident after burying their opponents in the group stage (10 goals in three games), defeating their Dutch arch-rivals in a heated quarterfinal (the one with Rijkaard's spit on Völler), and advancing on penalties against England in the semi. Conversely, it was unclear how Argentina ever made it that far. They lost an embarrassing opener to Cameroon, slid by the Soviets in an outrageously violent game with broken bones and the Hand of God, part deux (this time to avoid a goal), and made their way through the knockout stages with a mixture of catenaccio, jail-worthy fouls, and a narrow semifinal win on penalties over hosts Italy.
That semifinal took place in Naples, where Maradona played for SSC Napoli. "Idolatry" does not begin to cover what the Neapolitan felt for Diego. Napoli was a small provincial team with no honors, but with Maradona and Brazilian superstar Careca they won two Italian titles and a UEFA Cup in three years. Naples is also a poor town, mostly left-wing and ravaged by organized crime, the same conditions of Diego's childhood in Villa Fiorito. He even looked southern Italian, with the short stocky physique, the frizzly black hair, and the local accent that he quickly picked up. He was one of them and they revered him as a demigod. In his autobiography Maradona says that he could never leave his house without an escort for fear of being mobbed. Southern Italian Catholics are as fetishist about their football idols as about the decomposed bones of their saints in reliquaries. You don't just love Diego: you scream for Diego, you orgasm for Diego, you spend your last dime on the ticket to watch Diego, and if you're within reach of Diego you try to rip off his clothes and touch his... Diego.
So the night before the game Maradona  the rebel, the instigator, the contrarian — told Naples: "they never thought of you as Italians: remember that tomorrow." Problem is, he was right. Naples is to Italy like the Deep South is to the United States, its inhabitants perceived as ignorant rednecks by the northern well-to-do. "Neapolitan you need a bath... from Vesuvius," says a popular Roman slur. Why would they support Italy who offends them thus, and not Diego who led them to stardom?
The plan backfired. The day of the semifinal, a large banner at the stadium read: "Maradona, Naples loves you but Italy is our homeland" (picture). The match was the usual parade of un-football, with nasty fouls from both teams, the Argentine Giusti red-carded for a punch on Roberto Baggio, and some shameful decisions by aging referee Michel Vautrot, who allowed an unprecedented EIGHT minutes of stoppage time in the second extra-time period. Schillaci scored and Caniggia equalized. On penalties, the team that had the most to lose, Italy, in fact lost.
This lengthy background sets the stage for the final. Commentators thought that the Albiceleste was untalented, dishonest, and generally undeserving of a World Cup final. The Roman crowd, which comprised mostly Italians, still held a grudge from the semi and even booed the Argentine national anthem. Diego responded with his usual class, and now he had a bone to pick with an entire country.

With these premises, the game could only be ugly. The Argentine tackled hard, the Germans tried to play, and nothing of substance happened. The crowd openly supported Germany (how quickly things change when a new villain is in town) and booed every Argentine play, further exacerbating an already tense match. The Olimpico was as loud as it was humid in the sweltering midsummer Roman heat.

In the 65th minute, Klinsmann made a scene worthy of an Academy Award after a horrible tackle from Monzón, who became the first player to ever be red-carded in a World Cup final. This further embittered the match. The referee, Egdardo Codesal, seemed unable to retain control. After a second red card, this time for Dezotti, Maradona and his teammates were nearly in tears with anger as they desperately pleaded their case, very much resembling three-year-olds without ice-cream. They did have a slight point, though. Codesal missed two outrageous penalty calls, one for each team, before awarding a dubious one to Germany for a tackle by Sensini on Völler in the 83rd minute. After prolonged Argentine protests, Matthias Brehme stayed cool and converted from the 12, allowing Germany to win the lowest-quality final in World Cup history.

Let's be clear on one thing: I don't think Germany are to blame at all for the match. They had proven themselves many times and they were undoubtedly the best team at Italia '90, along with Italy and England, who finished third and fourth. It's the Argentine that, for once, stowed away on the boat to the final, and Maradona's flair for the dramatic did the rest. If football were fair, that night we would have seen Italy-Germany like in 1982, and that one would have been the rematch. While probably it would not have been epic (two highly tactically evolved teams generally run little and score even less) at least it would not have been a kick fest. From a footballing standpoint, better a snooze than a bruise. But of course nobody writes about snoozes, whereas Germany-Argentina 1-0 is well worth an article.

As for Diego, he would leave Napoli a year later after a tormented season. He signed for Sevilla and then returned to his native Boca Juniors, but he put on weight and spiraled down into the cocaine addiction that had plagued him for years. He would be back in shape and play again, and he even scored in the group stage of the 1994 World Cup (his "cocaine eyes" goal), but this final was effectively the last game of his career as Pibe.


Gallery (click to enlarge)

Teams presentation
Maradona dribbles Buchwald and Matthaus as Burruchaga looks on
Maradona carded for protesting
Monzon carded, Klinsmann plays dead
Brehme's game-winning penalty
Goal celebration

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The story of the 1986 and 1990 World Cup finals is inevitably the story of the rise and fall of Maradona. It is not just that, but I give no apology for making it that in this piece. Surely both matches can be considered in their own right as football games, but to me football without its heroes, villains, and histories is just millionaires kicking a leather ball.

One thing's for sure: this time around there won't be a Maradona to talk about. The final of Brazil 2014 might be the consecration of Messi, the success of the Mannschaft's long-term project, or a snoozefest decided by a missed penalty. Whatever it is, there will be another story to tell.

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