Another interesting yet frustrating World Cup comes to an end! One more Sunday with the golden Jabulani - an all new nation to make a new page of history - and it will be over.
How I wish it were Argentina..:( If only I could invent a time machine to send Diego and his boys back in time to repair their errors against the mighty Germans..
But the mighty Germans had been beaten by Spain, leading to an all European World Cup Final. Viva La Espana!
I remember my first ever world cup - 1994 USA - that ended Diego's career. The hat trick of Batistuta and the solo goal that Diego scored against Greece were my first introduction to Argentina's football! When Diego led his nation to glory in 1986, I was only two, and probably was playing with a fiber monkey smoking a Wills flake! This is one of the reasons for which I regret not being born before '84. Damn, I missed God's ballplay!
There was a special issue of Anandamela, containing descriptions of the teams playing at USA. My mother could not find that issue anywhere because I kept it under my pillow all the time, memorizing the names of all the players and imagining myself playing alongside them. I was familiar with most of the world's best footballers, thanks to my father! He used to take me to the field after sunset. When the other kids, tired and satisfied with the days play, went home, we stretched ourselves over the grass, and Baba recited the immortal names of Pele, Diego Maradona, Jorge Burruchaga, or Michel Platini. I could imagine them playing right there, at Chinsurah, arround us. I could hear the commentary, " Maradona...Burruchaga..still Burruchaga..AND THIS IS IT! ARGENTINA HAS SCORED..."! That was my first introduction to romanticism, and I owe to Baba for that!
1994 left a lasting impression on me. The death of Andre Escober on his return to Columbia, the suspension of Diego for using ephedrine, the unforgettable journey of Bulgaria and Histro Stoichkov..all adding to the indescribable and enormous feelings the biggest show on earth made me feel. People celebrated Brazil winning the cup defeating Italy. I secretly cried for Argentina...and Diego. It was easy as natural..players cry when they leave the field defeated...Diego cried when he was suspended! Somehow it made me learn how painful it is to watch one's own dream being destroyed. Everybody feels it at some point of time or the other. I learnt not to ridicule the losing side..I learnt that it was against the spirit of the game. I saw the players of the winning side patting the back of the opponent after the game.. I saw Maradona doing the same to Greece . That was one of the most important lessons I gained from World Cup.
Nature didn't spare me, and I grew up. I witnessed three more world cups going away to Brazil, France and Italy. Argentina has been defied once again in the present one, and I have to wait for another four years to see if Argentina can make it. I want to see Argentina holding the cup for the third time...and may Diego remain the Coach till then. I want to witness what I couldn't in '86 - God holding the cup.
How I wish it were Argentina..:( If only I could invent a time machine to send Diego and his boys back in time to repair their errors against the mighty Germans..
But the mighty Germans had been beaten by Spain, leading to an all European World Cup Final. Viva La Espana!
I remember my first ever world cup - 1994 USA - that ended Diego's career. The hat trick of Batistuta and the solo goal that Diego scored against Greece were my first introduction to Argentina's football! When Diego led his nation to glory in 1986, I was only two, and probably was playing with a fiber monkey smoking a Wills flake! This is one of the reasons for which I regret not being born before '84. Damn, I missed God's ballplay!
There was a special issue of Anandamela, containing descriptions of the teams playing at USA. My mother could not find that issue anywhere because I kept it under my pillow all the time, memorizing the names of all the players and imagining myself playing alongside them. I was familiar with most of the world's best footballers, thanks to my father! He used to take me to the field after sunset. When the other kids, tired and satisfied with the days play, went home, we stretched ourselves over the grass, and Baba recited the immortal names of Pele, Diego Maradona, Jorge Burruchaga, or Michel Platini. I could imagine them playing right there, at Chinsurah, arround us. I could hear the commentary, " Maradona...Burruchaga..still Burruchaga..AND THIS IS IT! ARGENTINA HAS SCORED..."! That was my first introduction to romanticism, and I owe to Baba for that!
1994 left a lasting impression on me. The death of Andre Escober on his return to Columbia, the suspension of Diego for using ephedrine, the unforgettable journey of Bulgaria and Histro Stoichkov..all adding to the indescribable and enormous feelings the biggest show on earth made me feel. People celebrated Brazil winning the cup defeating Italy. I secretly cried for Argentina...and Diego. It was easy as natural..players cry when they leave the field defeated...Diego cried when he was suspended! Somehow it made me learn how painful it is to watch one's own dream being destroyed. Everybody feels it at some point of time or the other. I learnt not to ridicule the losing side..I learnt that it was against the spirit of the game. I saw the players of the winning side patting the back of the opponent after the game.. I saw Maradona doing the same to Greece . That was one of the most important lessons I gained from World Cup.
Nature didn't spare me, and I grew up. I witnessed three more world cups going away to Brazil, France and Italy. Argentina has been defied once again in the present one, and I have to wait for another four years to see if Argentina can make it. I want to see Argentina holding the cup for the third time...and may Diego remain the Coach till then. I want to witness what I couldn't in '86 - God holding the cup.
What a post.....wonderful....
ReplyDeleteI still cherish the CD you gave me of the 86 world Cup. Yes we were not as active then to cheer when GOD lifted the cup..but so stupendous was his aftermath....that after so many years I couldn't come out of it......The post brought back all those dreams seeing GOD play once again. I still remember a special edition of Anandamela which would publish the grand article named "Bidrohi Maradona".....The post reminded me of all...
Wonderful Amte..