One of my best friends is a massive Maradona fan. And due to the man’s “colourful” history, we tend to give my friend a hard time about it. So when news broke in 2018 that Diego Armando Maradona had just accepted the job of manager at a football team in Sinaloa, Mexico, well, the gloves were off.
Some background if you’re unfamiliar as to why. Sinaloa is the drug trafficking capital of the world. The drug kingpin El Chapo is from, and was based, in Sinaloa. The Netflix series Narcos: Mexico tells of the beginnings of the Sinaloa drug cartel. And now, Diego Armando Maradona, the infamous recovering drug addict, is the manager of their local football club. The jokes practically write themselves.
This is not a documentary about football. This is less like Amazon Prime’s All Or Nothing with Manchester City, and more like Out of Their League, the series that follows some of the former stars of Manchester United as they gain ownership of their local football club, Salford City FC. This isn’t a series about the behind the scenes drama of a struggling team, like Netflix’s Sunderland ’Til I Die. This is a documentary series about “The Maradona Effect”.
Let me say this much first. I’m not a big fan of Maradona. His achievements as a player are well written about and I respect that. It’s the circus that surrounds him that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. And in this series, I was waiting for, and on some level, wanted to see, that circus in full swing. I wanted to have my disapproval of him be justified. What I got, however, has left me quite confused.
As I watched more and more episodes, my reluctance/disapproval/disdain for the series and Maradona began to fade. It really does look like he’s there for footballing reasons and not the marketing ploy that I had assumed it would be. (In doing some research into the situation, however, I did see it being reported that Maradona had, in his contract, a percentage commission from any new sponsors that came on board post his arrival.)
The man does appear to play to the cameras and the crowds wherever he goes, but how much of that is him doing it for the attention, and how much of that is just who he is as a person. That for me was the big takeaway. Diego Armando Maradona, at his core, is a 12-year-old boy. He loves being part of a team. He loves a dance, regardless of where. He loves a good song. Especially if it’s about him. (There seems to be a boatload of Maradona songs and Maradona seems to know every one of them.)
You can call him unprofessional, immature, or someone who revels in the limelight. And I did, and to a point, I still do. But more than anything, Diego Armando Maradona is passionate. About life and football. There is one particular game, Maradona finds himself relegated to the stands, and he begins to taunt the opposing crowd as his team scores a goal. But when the opposition takes the lead, and the crowd then begins to sing expletives back at him, he just sits there and sulks. As Maradona leaves the stadium at the end of the game, fans continue to mock him, and he jumps into the crowd for a fight. Passion. But also that of a 12-year-old boy.
The legend of Maradona is big. Sometimes it feels bigger in Maradona’s own mind. When told to keep his mouth shut by the opposing manager for protesting too much during a game, Maradona’s defence was to say that he, Maradona, has played more games and that the opposing manager is a nobody that needs to show his ID to get into his own house. And when Maradona is sent off, he plays the victim card. Once again, a 12-year-old boy.
In the finals, a year later, as both teams leave the field at halftime, the home supporters (of the opposition) start chanting expletives at Maradona once again. The camera then cuts to the outside of the changing room (presumably because the crew dont want to get in the middle of his wrath) as Maradona screams and shouts at the fans. Calling them cowards and egging them on to fight him. Instead of talking about the game, or his team or their tactics, Diego Armando Maradona, the manager, is railing against the opposition crowd by calling them names. The 12-year-old boy.
Watching Maradona in Mexico has softened my impression of the man. He is a problematic character, but it comes from a place of overriding passion. The lasting impression that I’m left with is that he craves the attention, but is surprised when the tide turns against him. He then retaliates, only to again be surprised that people don’t love him. Maradona in Mexico isn’t a biographical documentary series on the football legend. For that, you should check out HBO’s Diego Maradona released in July of this year. But as soon as you’ve seen that, watch this. The documentaries make interesting companion pieces, and give the audience a better look at the man both Neapolitans and Argentines call God.
Maradona in Mexico is available now on Netflix.
Maradona In Mexico
Netflix, 7 Episodes
Director: Angus Macqueen
Cast: Diego Maradona, Antonio Nuñez
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