Touched by God by Diego Armando Maradona

Author:Diego Armando Maradona
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2017-04-26T10:14:08+00:00

BIG BUCKS FOR THE FAMILY (THE FIFA FAMILY)

Getting back to the FIFA issue, and looking back at everything that has happened over the course of these thirty years, I think what’s been missing is player unity, players rallying together the way we did in Mexico. They have tried to buy me off a number of times over the years. Even at the cerebration of the hundredth anniversary of AFA, where they gave me a medal—I thanked them and made nice because it had to do with the history of soccer, not politics!—they tried to buy me off. It was ’93 and the national team was playing against Denmark in Mar del Plata, and then against Brazil at Monumental stadium. They gave me a medal for being the best player in history, and then they locked me up in a room with Havelange. Sepp Blatter was there too. And they told me, “Dieguito, we want you to be part of the FIFA family.”

“Thanks, guys, but I’ve already got a family.”

“But, listen, Dieguito, the guys who form part of the FIFA family make big bucks.”

“Listen, thanks for the offer, but you must be confused. You see, I play soccer for a living. I earn money kicking a ball around. And I kick it pretty good.”

Grondona was waiting for me when I came out.

“What happened, Diego?” he asked.

“Nothing at all, Julio. Nothing at all.”

And nothing did happen, until now. That’s why I say a lot of players should have been as clear as I was that time. And a good number were, actually. And there are a lot of good guys, like Didier Drogba, who is phenomenal. He took his struggle way beyond soccer. I mean, if you see what that guy did for the Ivory Coast, you have to take your hat off to him. Now that’s using soccer for a good cause, not the way politicians use it. He used soccer to bring people together in a country where they were gunning each other down. Romário too. He got involved in politics and used it to defend the sport before the World Cup in Brazil, for example, sending all the corrupt officials, the guys who filled their pockets—or wanted to—from the sport, to jail. And I can’t leave out Hristo Stoichkov, who—like me—has always been a rebel, a fighter.

But check this out: the guy who swapped his shorts for a suit and tie was Platini, the lowest of the low. Even thirty years ago, I could tell he had no guts, what with his perfumes and his finesse. The thing is, Platini always wanted to play it both ways, eating caviar and drinking champagne but also wanting to be seen with us, the players, who stood our ground and would go out on strike if necessary. He played both sides. Or he wanted to.

That’s why I really wanted to beat Platini on the field, to show him there in Mexico who the better player was. We were true rivals, because we

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