Remembering how Diego Maradona touched heaven in a World Cup semi-final | OneFootball

Despite his status as the voice of English football, an excitable John Motson was never the most comfortable audible experience.

Motson possessed a schoolboy-esque wonder in the commentary box, making sounds that could easily moonlight as the squawks of a nearby heron during high-octane moments.

But he was the BBC’s main commentator for over three decades for a reason. His enthusiasm often reflected the noises of fans back home, involuntary post-watershed coos at moments of skill, cunning and the highest quality.

Happily, Motson was in the Estadio Azteca for the 1986 World Cup semi-final between Argentina and Belgium. Or, as it should be known, the greatest performance of Diego Maradona’s career.

Three days after beating England with both legal and illegal limbs, Maradona one-upped himself with a masterclass of virtuosity.

Already needing oxygen on standby in the rarefied air of Mexico City, the Belgian defenders looked likely to require emergency treatment for twisted blood.

During a goalless first half, Maradona attempted a series of flicks and cutting-edge passes to unlock a sturdy defence.

The first takeaway upon watching compilations of the game is how El Diego was operating far beyond the mental capacity of his team-mates.

Jorge Burruchaga, Jorge Valdano and the rest were no Sunday League players, as is sometimes inferred when reflecting on the 1986 World Cup. But Maradona’s creativity had few rivals in recorded history, let alone football.

Motson was frequently caught off-guard by the Argentine’s audacity. ‘Maradona,’ the BBC commentator says upon him cushioning the ball from the sky, while another ‘Oooooh’ escapes his lips a split-second later.

It was already apparent that Maradona was in the zone and the received wisdom of footballing possibility needed to be reassessed.

He blasted his team-mates at the break, leaving Valdano and Oscar Ruggeri ‘scared shitless’ according to Maradona’s book Touched by God.

The Argentina captain also realised he’d have to win the game himself, ascending to another dimension in the footballing equivalent of a psychedelic Jimi Hendrix instrumental.

Seven minutes into the second half, Maradona ran onto a Burruchaga pass before it had even been made.

Helped by a far-too-deep Eric Gerets, the pint-sized magician dinked a left-footed finish into the net. You can see the Belgians visibly deflate; they realised the game was up.

His second goal is often compared to the more famous one against England, a comparison that Maradona himself loathed.

“Don’t compare the goal against England to the goal against Belgium,” he wrote in Touched By God.

“That is what I said to my brother, who was the first to make that comparison, and I later said it to everyone else: don’t tell me that goal is better than the one I scored against the English.”

But if his goal against England is Maradona’s Purple Haze, a piece of art that transcended its field, then this one was his Little Wing – the moment where a genius reached his apex.

Dancing through the Belgian defence, he left Gerets so disoriented that the centre-back faced away from Maradona in his own penalty area. No wonder he was called ‘poor Gerets’ in Touched By God.

Somehow unleashing a shot at full power despite struggling to maintain his balance, Maradona’s effort flew past Jean-Marie Pfaff. Game over.

With Argentina through to the final against West Germany, who’d beaten France earlier that same day, the skipper saw out the remaining 25 minutes with an array of tricks and dribbles.

There was still time for him to survive one attempt to separate his legs from his torso, cutting the ball back to Valdano, who repaid his captain’s bravery by blasting his shot into orbit.

In the BBC commentary box, Motson and Jimmy Hill were reduced to awestruck gurgling every time Maradona got the ball.

Which was a perfectly understandable response; the dopamine receptors in the brains of the entire watching audience were overloaded. It was best just to sit back and soak it all up.

‘He destroyed us,’ Belgium midfielder Enzo Scifo reflected 30 years later. He also set the benchmark for others to follow. It could be argued that nobody ever has.