The Perfect 10 - In League With Maradona

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The world seemed an even bigger place in 1978. The World Cup party that had once rolled down Linthorpe Road in Middlesbrough in 1966 was in full swing in Buenos Aires. I watched the television, awe inspired, as a schoolboy. What a place to watch your football. We knew little of the politics of the military junta at the time. Frankly if we had, I doubt we would have cared one iota. I was watching the sky filled with the trademark paper falling down from the stands and a brand of football that we didn't encounter on the playing fields at home. In amongst the festival of football, a young urchin was juggling footballs for the TV crews. The next superstar? We didn't know. Diego Armando Maradona. It turns out we would hear a lot more about him over the years. In the World Cup crowds, the usual scouts were poised with their cheque books to throw European riches at the talented. It was the days before such talent was whisked away at the age of 15 to join some academy programmes in Barcelona or Milan. Sheffield United and their visionary manager, Harry Haslam, had his eyes on Ossie Ardiles and Ricky Villa. As we know, they were whisked away by Tottenham to grace the Capital and storm Top of the Pops with Chas & Dave. Harry turned his attention to young Diego, but rumour has it the Sheffield United chairman thought £400,000 was touch excessive for any 18 year old. Mistake! Big mistake!

The above of course is totally irrelevant to current travels. We are just ending another national lockdown and TFB has decreed a new tier system to advise us against venturing out of our local areas. In a cunning blow to all football fans, he has also prevented all non league clubs having any form of crowd whilst they hold "high risk" Tier 3 status. A lot of folk are therefore stuck with limited travel options and no football to watch locally. I therefore turn my thoughts to yesteryear in a sort of tribute to the recent news of the passing of Maradona.

I had a longer connection with Argentina, than a television screen and a World Cup in 1978. I just didn't know it at the time. In some ways, I didn't choose Argentina. Argentina chose me. My grandfather was in the Merchant Navy. The boring 9 to 5 commute didn't feature in his existence. He was off all over the globe. The 1920s and 1930s were just a constant circumnavigation. New York on the Titanic sister ship was a forray into the glamorous world of the passenger liners. The Far East too. The majority were however on the bread and butter existence of the tramp steamer. The ports of Buenos Aires and Rosario were a much favoured haunt. He and his brothers sometimes sailed together. Of course, it was no holiday - more a question of economic necessity. The amount of time he spent out there, he would have been better off with a season ticket at Rosario Central than at the more local Turnbull Ground in Whitby. My mum always said I was a throwback to another generation .... that my wanderlust was prompted by a latent desire to compete with the family tradition. OK she maybe had a point, but I was always going to use an airliner and not a tramp steamer. Which leads me on to how come we rolled up in Buenos Aires in November 1995. This was football I had to see in the flesh.

In the days before the internet, how did you go about finding foreign football fixtures. A letter to such as a Belgian club was always answered in some detail with all necessary amendments for television noted. KAA Gent deserve a special mention in this regard. Europe was one thing, but what of South America? We in the UK had grown up with a notion of conflict with Argentina. First, there was Mr Rattin and the 1966 World Cup. Sir Alf Ramsey was less than complementary in his description in subsequent interviews. There was then the dispute over the Falklands, which escalated into full scale war. Had time healed the divisions? Would the Argentine football authorities come up with any fixture information? It turned out they would. A fax response was acquired. I sat and worked out my fixture options. We were on our way.

The flight was long and tedious via Madrid, but the destination was worth it. The Argentine is described in some circles as an Italian who speaks Spanish, who admires French chic but secretly aspires to be English. Afternoon tea is the order of the day with loose leaf tea - more English than the English. We decided Cafe Tortoni on Avenida de Mayo was our favourite daytime venue - visited by everyone from Carlos Gardel to Hilary Clinton - and night time cafe society was established in Cafe Biela in the fashionable, upmarket Recoleta district. The cafe was the former haunt of Fangio and the motor racing contingent in the 1950s. The Recoleta Cemetery is over the road, where Evita is laid to rest in the Duarte family vault. The Other Half perused the upmarket brands in the Patio Bullrich shopping centre and we walked the grand avenues of the Paris of South America, taking in the sights. The Casa Rosada. The Avenue of 9 Julio and dare I say it, the Estadio Monumental. The steaks were to die for. Tango was everywhere, but found on the street for free in amongst the Sunday markets in the San Telmo district.

River Plate scuppered part of the football plan by being too successful. They headed off to Japan to play in the FIFA World Club Championship and their preceding home game was cancelled to assist the preparation. Meanwhile, Boca Juniors were away from their home base at Banfield. Where was Banfield? The answer was in the southern suburbs, but that proved immaterial. Boca were closing in on the championship and were anticipating a large away following. They also had seen the return of the prodigal son into the fold. Diego had returned home to play out his days away from the glare of publicity in Europe. The game would be moved to accommodate the expectant Boca public. The venue was chosen. The match was to be played at Independiente in the city at Avellaneda, which is basically extension of the Capital Federal. The district of La Boca - the original port district populated by immigrants from southern Europe - is a stones throw across the Riachuelo River from Avellaneda. The tourists are drawn to La Boca by the colourful houses typified by those in the most famous street, El Caminito. It translates as Little Walkway, but was once a stream heading into the Riachuelo. An old bridge nearby has all the hallmarks of the Middlesbrough Transporter. The official title is the Puente Transbordador Nicolas Avellaneda. It opened in 1914 and transported traffic across to the Dock Sud area until 1960. It wasn't working, but was finally restored in 2017. There was an edge to the neighbourhood, but all was well. We walked round to the La Bombonera Stadium- home of Boca Juniors. The so called Chocolate Box was tightly squeezed into the adjacent streets. Three of the stands rose steeply in close proximity to the playing surface. The other was a series of hospitality boxes stacked on top of each other - almost as though they were shipping containers piled high. The stadium would undergo a major renovation in the following year.

The mention of Avellaneda sent the desk man in our hotel in a hot sweat. You want to go to Avellaneda? Why? I explained the afternoon with Diego Maradona. I think he had some concerns about our welfare and did not want the hotel to lose 2 residents. However, he had also declared his love for San Lorenzo, so had no desire to encourage further interest in either of the two big BA clubs from overseas. He secured the services of a taxi and proceeded to give detailed instructions to the driver on ensuring we ended in the right place. The city of Avellaneda is home to not just one, but two clubs, in the Argentine football elite. In the same way that Dundee and Dundee United in Scotland and MTK Budapest and BKV Elore in Hungary share a street, Independiente and Racing Club are very close neighbours. The huge bowl that is home to Racing Club loomed into view and the streets became thronged with crowds heading towards the game at Independiente. The taxi could go no further. We alighted into the throng of people. In 2020, we are so used to pre-purchasing match tickets from the internet so you know where you headed. However in 1995, this was a very much pay cash on the day job. It was a long way to come - approximately 7000 miles - to find a game sold out. We headed for the main entrance, as the logical place to find the best seats. The area was flooded with Boca fans, who to a man were extremely helpful and brokered the ticket purchase from the kiosk. I suggested the upper tier would be a good vantage point, but they helpfully pointed out that my fair skin would possibly not come through the 90 minutes of intense sunshine unscathed. It was a seriously warm afternoon and the suns rays could have turned me to a beetroot.

I estimate the crowd to have been around 40,000. The vast majority were there for Boca. They filled 3 sides of the ground. The massed ranks of Barras Bravos were away on huge terrace to our left. The Argentine equivalent of the European ultras dominated. The various groups were identified by their flags. The one I specifically remembered from this match was Budge. I learn 25 years after the event, the odd sounding name is that of their barrio or neighborhood - Ingenerio Budge. The name Budge cones from Oliver Budge, a Swindon locomotive superintendent for the Eastern Argetine Railway in the late 19th century. He later rose to be Chairman of the Buesnos Aires Midland Railway. The barrio of Budge is in the Lomas de Zamora area just south of where we were in Avellaneda. The adjacent patch was ironically Banfield, so maybe they had some local scores to settle. Whether it was Budge would be hard to say, but the Banfield fans scattered beneath us as groups of Boca stampeded across the terraces in a move akin to the SW6 gang taking a "home" end in the early 1980s.

The teams entered the playing surface to a barrage of noise. Clouds of paper filled the air. Diego Maradona led the way. The 5 foot 5 five inch frame was carrying a bit more weight these days, but there was no mistaking the sheer presence. The blue shirted Boca players headed for the main body of their support to salute them. Carlos Navarro Montoya, the goalkeeper pulled his cap down, perhaps aware that his outfit made him look like he been a victim of a paintball attack. The whole end jumped up and down on the spot. I asked one of fellows in the better seats, what they were singing. "If you don't jump, you're Englishman". Good choice to be in the seats then! The football was all about Boca pressure. Attack after attack. Maradona was not the same Maradona of Barcelona or Napoli and there were no piercing runs forward. The extra curricular activities had taken their toll by this stage. He largely contended himself with pulling the strings from central midfield, whilst others did the running. One of the eager runners carried a very European name. The auburn hair of Carlos MacAllister gave away his Scottish/Irish heritage. One of his sons currently plays for Brighton in the Premier League in England. The other big name on display in the Boca ranks was having an easier afternoon on the bench. Claudio Caniggia had recently returned from Europe. There had been lots of goals in Italy and Portugal and there would have been more, had he stayed away from the white lines other than the goal line. The Boca fans near us were less than impressed by the fact he was here at all and explained he was still seen as being in his former River Plate camp. He eventually departed back to Italy and ended up subsequently at Glasgow Rangers in Scotland. Maradona was substituted in the middle of the 2nd half with Boca leading 1-0. Caniggia arrived into the fray, showed his pace, class and finishing ability with the 2nd goal to seal the game. Banfield had offered nothing, except perhaps a glimpse of a young Julio Cruz ... known locally as The Gardener .... after his rapid rise from groundstaff to centre forward. He would go on to star for River, befoe moves to Feyenoord, Bologna, Inter and Lazio.

So what of the verdict on the football and the Number 10? The standard of the football was average to be honest, but the occasion up there with the best. The only thing that comes close is the Belgrade Eternal Derby. Maradona was a shadow of the player, when he destroyed England in World Cup Mexico 1986. The best ever? It is difficult to compare different eras, different leagues and why bother. What you can say is he had talent and passion. A rare combination. He believed in where he came from and his country. He showed he cared. A great many so called stars of 2020 are just chasing money round the globe and are happy to pick up the maximum financial reward for minimum effort.

We would be back in 1996. Boca were soundly thrashed 4-2 at nearby Racing Club. This time there was no Maradona or Caniggia. The conductor of the orchestra might have been missing, but the boys from Budge were still there.




Appendix 1

Torneo Apertura Round 14

Club Athletico Banfield 0 Club Athletico Boca Juniors 2

Venue: Estadio De Independiente, Av Ricardo Enrique Bochini, Avellaneda, Buenos Aires, Argentina

Date: Saturday 12th November 1995 @ 1700 Hours

Attendance: Est 40,000

Scorers: 0-1 Scotto 25 Mins (Boca Juniors), 0-2 Caniggia 73 Mins (Boca Juniors)

Banfield: Angel Comizzo, Gustavo Maciel, Pablo Paz, Javier Sanguinetti (Carlos Moya 83 Mins), Mauro Navas, Gustavo Buena Juan Acre 60 Mins), Juan Rossi, Guido Alvarenga, Fabian Alegre, Julio Cruz (Alejandron Glaria 78 Mins)

Boca Juniors: Carlos Navarro Montoya, Diego Sonora, Luis Medero, Nestor Fabbri, Carlos MacAllister, Julio Saldana, Fabian Carrizo, Alberto Marcico (Blas Giunti 81 Mins), Diego Maradona (Raul Peralta 67 Mins), Sergio Martinez, Dario Scotto (Claudio Caniggia 70 MIns)

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Photos

C A Boca Juniors
La Bombonera "The Chocolate Box" Stadium .....1996

La Boca
El Caminito

La Boca
Puente Transbordador Bridge

CA Banfield 0 CA Boca Juniors 2
12 November 1995
Estadio De Independiente , Avellaneda

CA Banfield 0 CA Boca Juniors 2
12 November 1995
Estadio De Independiente , Avellaneda

Recoleta
Cafe Biela

La Boca
El Caminito

La Boca
El Caminito

Recoleta Cemetery
Duarte Family Tomb

CA Banfield 0 CA Boca Juniors 2
12 November 1995
Estadio De Independiente , Avellaneda
CA Banfield fans

La Boca
Puente Transbordador Bridge

La Boca
El Caminito

C A Boca Juniors
La Bombonera "The Chocolate Box" Stadium .....murals outside