Goodbye, Diego

You know that moment just after a champagne bottle has been vigorously shaken, when everybody waits with anticipation until they hear the inevitable ‘pop’? To most Argentinians, the AFA’s announcement earlier this week, which confirmed the decision to finally get rid of Diego Maradona as coach, was the moment when the cork finally popped. Tactically weak and famously stubborn, Maradona was never likely to stay in charge for La Albiceleste, especially after their embarassing defeat in the World Cup quarter-finals a few weeks ago. But the manner in which he exited the job highlights, in a nutshell, why Maradona was never likely to be a successful coach.

Certainly the most celebrated star that Argentina has ever produced, at least at international level, Diego has reinforced the stereotype that the greatest players are usually not the best managers. Perhaps his appointment was a mistake in the first place, but given the extent to which the legend of Maradona pervades Argentinian consciousness, it was not all that surprising, and at the back of everyone’s minds there was that glimmer of hope. Perhaps the flawed genius could prove all the doubters wrong, and produce another swansong that would make the stories write themselves. Maybe, just maybe, he could inspire an immensely talented group of player to a fairytale victory, and join the elite club of two that won the World Cup as player and manager.

He didn’t, of course, but looking back at Maradona’s two years in charge since he took the job in 2008, he did keep us all entertained. After the Albiceleste lost World Cup qualifiers to Bolivia, Colombia, Ecuador, Paraguay and Chile, they scraped two narrow wins in their last two games to ensure that they would make the trip to South Africa. After a 93rd minute goal finally earned his side qualification, El Diego, in characteristically polite fashion, arrived at the post-game press conference and brazenly told critics to “suck it and keep on sucking it”, earning himself a two-month ban from FIFA in the process.

Far more mystifying than this outburst was his squad of 23 that he finally announced a few days before the World Cup. After having called up a miraculous 108 players in friendlies and qualifiers during his time in charge, he laid his hopes on a maverick formation, in the process excluding from the squad a few of Argentina’s most talented footballers (as detailed in an earlier piece here) and generally disregarding the opinions of pundits, journalists and experts. Instead, he promised to run naked to the obelisk in Buenos Aires if his side won the World Cup.

When the tournament came around, Argentina’s array of attacking stars got them past the first two stages of the competition with flair, but upon facing their first real test against a well-organized German side, Diego’s boys were trounced 4-0, and his tactical shortcomings became clear. Why include essentially only one central midfielder, Mascherano, hence forcing the talismanic Messi to drop deep? Why not include Javier Zanetti and Esteban Cambiasso in the squad to shore up a leaky defence? Why pin all your attacking hopes on individual brilliance rather than a team ethic? The questions that spring to mind for every fan in Buenos Aires have only one true answer – because Maradona said so.

Famously known for sticking to his guns against all logic and favouring players with whom he had a rapport, Maradona may have made some clear analytical and selection errors, but he brought to the World Cup a panache that is increasingly rare. While he didn’t demonstrate tactical acumen, he did prove to his critics that he is a canny man manager. His passionate and outspoken displays on the touchline kept the pressure away from his players, and filled column inches around the world. Even after the World Cup loss, a number of Argentinian players hailed the manager for the way he inspired and instilled a fire into them, and even the most casual of observers will have noted how absolutely and evidently he was invested in his nation’s fortunes. The fortunes of Argentinian football could be read off his face; from his ecstatic leaps on the sidelines in the group stages to his desoolate tears after the quarterfinal loss, Maradona really did care that much. Stubborn? Certainly. Tactically naïve? Yes. Egomaniac? Probably, but El Diego is a man who brought reckless bravery, fiery zeal and an inhuman amount of belief and personality into management.

Since the World Cup, Maradona’s actions have reflected his passionate, flawed genius. Julio Grondona, who has been head of the AFA since 1979, was reportedly upset that Maradona defied association orders by allowing Oscar Ruggeri, apparently Diego’s original choice for assistant coach, exclusive access to training sessions as a ‘journalist’. When contract negotiations began a couple of weeks ago, Maradona’s famed loyalty came to the fore, as he insisted that he would not tolerate any changes to his backroom staff, ‘not even the kitman or the masseur’. Not only that – Maradona made this declaration on a TV show hosted by Ruggeri, on a network that has a long-standing feud with the AFA because of government intervention in broadcasting contracts.

Following that, Maradona failed to respond to an invitation asking him and a few of his players to meet the country’s president Cristina Kirchner at the Casa Rosada in Buenos Aires last weekend. Rather than accepting, or even refusing, Maradona simply ignored the presidential invite. Instead, the only dignitary who he has met since the World Cup ended was Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez, and that visit across the border was, naturally, the purported reason for the delay in contract negotiations with Grondona. Once it was announced that he would not be continuing as Argentina manager, a teary-eyed Maradona said that Grondona and team manager Carlos Bilardo betrayed him, refused to take questions, and walked out of the press conference.

As one would expect of the man, El Diego has consistently shown a blatant disregard for the AFA’s internal politics, and consequently turned his reign into a ‘my way or the highway’ situation. After shaking the champagne bottle since his managerial stint began, it has finally popped. And while he was far from the greatest of managers, he is, and will continue to be, one of the most colorful, passionate, sublimely candid and appealing characters in football. In a world of escalatingly boring political correctness and stoic managerial appearances, Diego wore his heart on his sleeve – he was who he was and made no bones about it. For that, he will be sorely missed.