{"id":167196,"date":"2024-03-29T10:26:54","date_gmt":"2024-03-29T14:26:54","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=167196"},"modified":"2024-04-01T12:41:10","modified_gmt":"2024-04-01T16:41:10","slug":"i-love-you-maradona","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2024\/03\/29\/i-love-you-maradona\/","title":{"rendered":"I Love You, Maradona"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_167197\" style=\"width: 781px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-167197\" class=\"wp-image-167197 size-large\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/pxl-20240327-1015199932-771x1024.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"771\" height=\"1024\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/pxl-20240327-1015199932-771x1024.jpg 771w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/pxl-20240327-1015199932-226x300.jpg 226w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/pxl-20240327-1015199932-768x1020.jpg 768w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/pxl-20240327-1015199932-1157x1536.jpg 1157w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/pxl-20240327-1015199932-1542x2048.jpg 1542w, https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2024\/03\/pxl-20240327-1015199932-scaled.jpg 1928w\" sizes=\"auto, (min-width: 62.5em) 67vw, 100vw\" \/><p id=\"caption-attachment-167197\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Photograph by Rachel Connolly.<\/p><\/div>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">While reading Maradona\u2019s autobiography this past winter, I found that every few pages I would whisper or write in the margins, \u201cI love you, Maradona.\u201d Sadness crept up on me as I turned to the last chapter, and it intensified to heartbreak when I read its first lines: \u201cThey say I can\u2019t keep quiet, that I talk about everything, and it\u2019s true. They say I fell out with the Pope. It\u2019s true.\u201d I was devastated to be leaving Maradona\u2019s world and returning to the ordinary one, where nobody ever picks a fight with the Pope.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I started reading\u00a0<i>El Diego: The Autobiography of the World\u2019s Greatest Footballer<\/i>, ghostwritten by Daniel Arcucci and translated to English by Marcela Mora y Araujo<b>.\u00a0<\/b>He said reading it was the most fun he\u2019d had with a book. I came to <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">El Diego<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> with basically no knowledge of Maradona or even of soccer. I would have said I hated soccer actually. I hate the buzzing noise the crowds make on the TV. But from the very first page I found Maradona\u2019s voice so addictive and original that reading <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">El Diego<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> felt like falling in love.\u00a0<\/span><!--more--><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Maradona\u2019s skirmish with the Pope goes the way of much else in the book. Because of his extraordinary talents and global fame, Maradona is invited to the Vatican with his family. The Pope gives each of them a rosary to say, and he tells Maradona that he has been given a special one. Maradona checks with his mother and discovers that they have the same rosary. He goes back to confront the Pope and is outraged when the Pope pats him on the back and carries on walking.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">\u201cTotal lack of respect!\u201d Maradona fumes. \u201cIt\u2019s why I\u2019ve got angry with so many people: because they are two-faced, because they say one thing here and then another thing there, because they\u2019d stab you in the back, because they lie. If I were to talk about all the people I\u2019ve fallen out with over the years, I\u2019d need one of those encyclopedias, there would be volumes.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Whether it be <\/span><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"><small>FIFA<\/small><\/span><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">, money-hungry managers, angry fans, the Mafia, drug tests, or the tabloids, Maradona never takes anything lying down. He stews and stews, and this fuels him to play better and better soccer. There is an Argentinean word Maradona uses for this: <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">bronca.<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> Mora y Araujo explains, in an introduction in which she lovingly details the difficulties of putting Maradona\u2019s unique voice down on the page in English, that this basically means \u201cfury, hatred, resentment, bitter discontent.\u201d But the difficulty of choosing a translation left her to simply leave <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">bronca,<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> and many of Maradona\u2019s other favorite catchphrases, as they were. The result is a narrative voice which is totally distinct, and an overall energy out of sync with the pristine, restrained public image most celebrities seek to cultivate, especially in the social media age.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Maradona first learned to play soccer on the streets of Villa Fiorito, the extremely poor city on the outskirts of Buenos Aires where he was born. He played all day in the blazing heat and then when the sun went down too. Early on in the book he says: \u201cWhen I hear someone going on about how in such and such a stadium there\u2019s no light, I think: I played in the dark, you son of a bitch!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I still don\u2019t know enough about soccer to verify my impression that he is one of the greatest soccer players ever. But Wikipedia asserts this too. <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">El Diego <\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">tells the story of his extraordinary rise through the world of small, local kids\u2019 clubs to a glittering career which involved World Cups (one of which he captained Argentina for), a transformative stint for the Italian team Napoli, setting the world record for transfer fees twice, scoring a famous handball goal against England, and lots of other things I don\u2019t really understand properly but felt enormously gripped by.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">It\u2019s an incredible life story, shadowed by, as well as his constant fights, a cocaine habit and a string of extramarital dalliances. But mostly I was gripped by the way he tells it. At one point, when <\/span><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"><small>FIFA<\/small><\/span><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> bans him from a match, he says: \u201cMy legs had been cut off, my soul had been destroyed.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I started <\/span><i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">El Diego<\/span><\/i><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\"> in the airport, on my way back to Belfast for Christmas. A young man on my flight pointed at my book and asked me what I was reading. (I discovered over the next few weeks that reading the book in public places was a magnet for men.) I showed him the cover.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">He said: Oh yeah I thought it said Maradona. You like football?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I said: Oh no I don\u2019t know anything about football.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">He said: Why are you reading it then?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">At the time I told him it was because I wanted to read something different from what I usually read. If he\u2019d asked me the same thing when I finished it, I would have said it\u2019s not really about football. It\u2019s about being in love. It\u2019s about the little guy against the big guy, I would have declared. And believing in something. And respect. It\u2019s about having a sense of who you are.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">If the young man had not politely excused himself by this point, I would have told him I sent photographs of many pages of the book to everyone I know who has a slightly bad personality. Grotty, unwholesome types who have dysfunctional relationships with substances. People who have problems with authority and are incapable of being obsequious and are always getting into trouble. People who take things too personally. Which is to say, I sent pages to all the people I love the most in the world, saying: You need to read this.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">I can\u2019t really talk about <em>El Diego<\/em> without sounding like a fanatic. I think this can be true of any book or piece of art which we find resonates particularly with us. Enthusiasm can come off as a little crazed. Here especially, I think, because I am surprised at how much it did resonate, given that soccer is a world I previously felt I couldn\u2019t relate to much at all.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Now that I have discovered Maradona as a thirty-year-old, decades after the rest of the world, I notice he pops up in places where I\u2019d never noticed him before. In the Italian caf\u00e9 I eat in around once a week I noticed a Maradona shirt behind the counter.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">That\u2019s Maradona, I said to the owner. He looked at me like I\u2019d just asked him if he had heard of pasta.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-weight: 400;\">Yes, he said slowly. He was the best. I nodded and sat down to eat. Soccer, I noticed, was on TV in the background, as it probably had been on all of my visits.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><em>Rachel Connolly is a writer from Belfast. She has written essays and criticism for the\u00a0<\/em>New York Times Magazine,\u00a0New York Magazine,<em> the\u00a0<\/em>Guardian\u00a0<em>and others. Her short fiction has been published in <\/em>The Stinging Fly <em>and <\/em>Granta. <em>Her first novel, <\/em>Lazy City<em>,<\/em>\u00a0<em>was published in 2023.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u201cI was devastated to be leaving Maradona\u2019s world and returning to the ordinary one, where nobody ever picks a fight with the Pope.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2465,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[68386],"tags":[361,67827,86],"class_list":["post-167196","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-the-reviews-review","tag-diego-maradona","tag-featured","tag-soccer"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.4 (Yoast SEO v25.4) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>I Love You, Maradona by Rachel 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