The King of the Planet

 

COLUMN: Tunnel of Time 

The life story of Diego Maradona, one of the greatest footballers in world history  

By Shevlin Sebastian 

THE PLAYER

June 23, 1986, Azteca Stadium, Mexico

Diego Maradona collects the ball from near the centre line on the right flank. He starts to move slowly, then accelerates with all the finesse and sudden speed of a startled deer. He is immediately challenged by two English defenders. He sidesteps one and swerves around the other. At all times, his eyes are on the ball. He runs harder. Again, two English players converge on him with undisguised menace.

Incredibly, he squeezes past them both between the right side of the field and the touchline. Now in full stretch, the ball mesmerisingly glued to his feet. Peter Shilton, the goalkeeper, hesitates. He is afraid to commit himself early, but Maradona is coming in and he has no option but to move forward.

He closes the angle and Maradona feints. He pretends as if he is going to take a shot towards the far corner. It is a dummy. Shilton falls for it, and Maradona contemptuously flicks the ball through the near right post.

GOAL!

The stadium erupts; Maradona erupts. He clenches a fist and runs towards the Argentinian section of the stadium and yells in jubilation. The other Argentine players converge on him. There is a rapturous joy. This was surely one of the greatest goals in the history of the World Cup. In the history of football. A 55-yard spectacular.

The Mexicans have been so taken up by the goal that later, they would build a plaque in the Azteca Stadium commemorating it.

June 29, 1986. Azteca Stadium.

Argentina is in trouble. Two spectacular and opportunistic goals by Karl-Heinz Rummenigge and a header by Rudi Völler have helped Germany draw level with Argentina in the final of the World Cup.

The South American confidence is beginning to erode. There are ten minutes left. It is a moment that demands magic. And so, once again, soccer’s sorcerer responds. He picks the ball up from deep inside his half, eludes three defenders who have been shadowing him, and clips a through pass to Jorge Burruchaga that splits the German defence.

Burruchaga is free and running like the wind. He is not challenged. A desperate German goalkeeper Harald Schumacher advances down the box, to unsettle the Argentinian. But at the most important moment of his life, Burruchaga keeps his cool and sends a low shot that eludes the diving and desperate form of Schumacher. Score: 3-2.

Argentina had won the World Cup and the man responsible for the pass was already on his knees, his arms outstretched, his eyes heavenward, tears rolling down his face and a smile that made it seem he had no lips. Diego Maradona’s dream of winning the World Cup has come true.

This was the first time, since Pele, that a player had stamped his authority on the World Cup so strongly with his individual flair.

Right from the first match against South Korea, where he performed brilliantly, despite some terrible fouling, he produced soccer of the highest class.

The feints, the slow start to his runs, the sudden acceleration, the swift changes in direction, the outrageous dribbles, the perfect headers and those desperately swirling free kicks that puzzled both defenders and goalkeepers alike.

There was no footballer like Diego Armando Maradona. And on June 29, 1986, Diego Maradona was ‘El Rey’, the king of the planet.

EARLY LIFE AND CAREER

Diego Maradona was born in Buenos Aires on October 30, 1960. At birth, the midwife informed his mother: “Don’t worry. He is all right. He will live.”

He was one of eight children of a poor man who worked in a factory and lived in a slum. Maradona was a Cabecita Negra, a ‘black head’, which is a contemptuous term in Argentina for Argentines of Indian blood.

From an early age, he displayed an affinity for football. The talent was God-given. By the time he reached his teens, people had begun to notice him. At that time, he was known as ‘El Cebollita’, the little onion, because of his short, muscular stature.

At 16, he made his professional debut with the Argentinos Juniors. It was not his first choice of career. He had wanted to be an accountant, but was finally convinced his talents lay in football.

And it was true. Success came easily to him.

In 1976, César Luis Menotti, the Argentinian coach, brought Maradona into the national squad. Maradona made his international debut in a friendly match against Hungary. But in 1978, Menotti excluded Maradona from the Argentinian team for the World Cup. It was a slight that Maradona never forgot or forgave.

Later, Menotti defended himself by saying that Maradona was too young to play in such a big tournament. But Maradona was so piqued he did not speak to Menotti for six months. Then they patched up their differences. Maradona led Argentina to victory in the World Youth Championships in 1979.

The next year he led Boca Juniors to the Argentinian First Division title, and was subsequently voted South American Player of the Year in 1980 and '81.

Great things were expected from Maradona in the 1982 World Cup in Spain. By now, he was a household name in Latin America. His genius was evident although it was still rough and undisciplined. But the Spain World Cup was to be Maradona's most conspicuous failure. He was too arrogant, too gifted, to understand the necessity of teamwork. He was unable to assimilate that he could not win the cup on his own.

But to be fair, he was subjected to a sustained physical assault on his person, the likes of which had never been seen before. A continuous, desperate need to cripple his genius.

Time and time again, he was brought down, and this was most pronounced in the match against Italy. Claudio Gentile was policing him. Maradona realised as he was chopped down again and again the referee would not come to his rescue.

Gentile justified his tough tactics by saying, “This is not a dance academy.”

True, but neither was it a dojo for karatekas.

Expectedly, Maradona's patience was tested. It finally snapped during the match against Brazil where he committed a grievous foul on Batista. He was shown the red card and ejected from the field. It was the end of the Spanish nightmare.

After Spain, he signed on to play in Barcelona, but he suffered from boredom and injuries. He lasted there for barely a year before, in 1984, Napoli paid $8.3 million and lured him away. He has been there ever since and has helped Napoli win the league title in 1989 and 1990.

He still looks good for a couple of years more.

THE MAN

Diego Maradona is a short man, 5’5” in height. He is so short and so muscular, yet this ensures a low centre of gravity, which is so vital to his balance, his feints, his success. Furthermore, he has superb athletic gifts which he blends with an intuitive brain. He is emotional and gregarious. These character traits are similar to Naples and its people. That’s why there is so much affection for Maradona in Naples.

He is also a family man. His parents and brothers and sisters spend several months of the year in Naples. “I can’t spend more than two weeks without my family,” he said. “One of my brothers has to always be with me.”

For his parents, he bought a comfortable home in suburban Buenos Aires. He said that after a lifetime of struggle, his parents deserved a rest. He has employed a vast number of his friends from his earlier days in a company called Maradona Productions.

And yet, despite this generous side to his character, there are certain inconsistencies in him. He is apt to lose his temper easily. Throughout his career, he had scuffles with photographers and journalists.

Once, when he was about to be interviewed by an Italian journalist for a television programme, he yelled at the scribe because he had written negatively about his performance. The journalist had no option but to leave.

In Barcelona in 1983, he used to have dinner parties where he would serve guests, holding the plates in both hands while he bounced a football on his thighs. Then, late in the night, carloads of people used to descend on a restaurant or a cinema and occupy it for the night.

It was said at that time his long-time agent, Jorge Cyterszpiler, was responsible for this wild life, and it may have been true because later Maradona sacked the agent in 1985.

His impulsive nature has also led him into a host of controversies. He was accused by a 22-year-old Naples woman, Cristiana Sinagra, of being the father of her illegitimate child. She said it was the result of a five-month relationship. Maradona denied the rumours, but the woman named her son Diego Armando.

He has had regular tiffs with Napoli club president Corrado Ferlaino, and he was about to be fined $600,000 for breach of contract. A year earlier, he refused to return to the club before the start of the league, was overweight, and when he did join, his performance was below par.

He accused FIFA of fixing the World Cup draw so that it would suit certain teams. And then, of course, there was his famous ‘Hand of God’ goal against England in the Mexico World Cup.

There have been so many other controversies, but Maradona can get away with it because he is rich and famous, a man whose face is recognisable across the globe, and the money is just rolling in.

He earns an estimated $2 million a year from Napoli with bonuses, including the sale of souvenirs and free tickets to and from Buenos Aires. He earns hundreds of thousands of dollars through exhibition matches.

Here are two examples:

For the 100th anniversary of the English Soccer League, there was a match between the English League team and the rest of the World XI at Wembley. After much haggling, Maradona agreed to play after he was paid a mind-boggling sum of £90,000. It meant he was earning a neat £1,000 a minute.

For an exhibition match that he played in Saudi Arabia, he was given a scimitar, studded with diamonds, costly jewellery lavished on his wife and a $30,000 appearance fee. And there are several such exhibition ties that he plays throughout the year.

THE LOVE MARRIAGE

When Maradona began playing for Argentinos Juniors years ago, he began to make a little money. It was then that he decided to move to a different area of the city. In this neighbourhood lived Claudia Villafane, the daughter of a taxi driver. She was a fan of his and had been watching him for a long time. He knew that and so, once at a local dance, he approached her.

It was the start of a 14-year romance.

By all accounts, Maradona had a successful relationship. And although he had not married her, she gave birth to two girls, Dalma Nerea and Janina Dinorah.

One day, the elder girl, Dalma, asked her mother whether she could see the wedding photographs. It was then that Maradona realised that it was time to legalise the union.

The wedding took place on November 7, 1989.

Buenos Aires newspapers billed it as the ‘Marriage of the Decade’. There were 1,100 guests. Maradona had flown in on a private jet more than 200 team members and friends from Naples and lodged them in three of the best hotels in the city.

There was a civil registry marriage followed by a Roman Catholic marriage.

Maradona was dressed in a black morning suit with a grey waistcoat and matching bow tie, with a diamond earring. His wife was wearing a white gown with a diamond train of 30 metres. Their children were the bridesmaids.

The wedding party was held in a boxing stadium and it started at 8 pm and finished at 5 am. The caviar and the drinks flowed. The wedding cake was 15 feet high and weighed 150 kilos. The couple had to climb a ladder in order to cut it.

It was a grand function. Maradona spent close to a million dollars so that he could provide his children with those elusive wedding photographs.

THE PRICE OF GENIUS

Because of his exceptional abilities, Maradona has borne the brunt of the defenders' attacks on him. Time and time again, during the course of a match, he hits the ground, sometimes with great force, sometimes with great skill in order to minimise the damage. And yet, he has shown remarkable courage and persistence.

Despite the vicious attacks on him, the chopping of his legs by defenders, the grabbing of the shirt, the punches in the face, the holding him back by putting an arm around him, he has managed to perform and score brilliantly. But the price has been high.

Here are a few examples.

In a Spanish league match against Bilbao Athletic, in 1983, the centre-back Andoni Goikoetxea, known as the ‘Butcher of Bilbao’, kicked Maradona so hard that his left leg was dislocated. He was out of action for two-and-a-half months.

In May 1985, in a World Cup qualifier in San Cristobal, Venezuela, someone in a crowd of fans kicked him on his fragile knee. The same accident took place in Colombia a few days later. When Argentina played Venezuela in a return match in Buenos Aires in June, he was again kicked on the knee.

Today, according to an orthopaedic surgeon, Maradona's leg looks like that of a man 10 years older than him. In actual fact, Maradona is 29 years old. And for 15 years, he has put immense stress on his body because of his football. He has a tendency to put on weight.

His teammates in the early days used to call him fatso, and therefore he uses drastic measures to reduce his weight.

In March this year, he was six kilos overweight. So, he enrolled himself in a clinic where he followed doctors' orders to reduce weight drastically. All these demands on the body had its effect. “Chronic Lumbago,” says the noted sportswriter Rob Hughes, “is a side effect of such wilful disregard of nature.”

There is a slight decline in skills. He takes a little longer to recover from an injury. And the fact is that he is not getting any younger. And so, although he would expectedly shine at the World Cup in Italy, it may not have the brilliance of Mexico. Nevertheless, it does not matter. His skills have thrilled billions. For one summer, in 1986, he experienced what very few people have experienced in their life.

He was El Rey, the king of the planet.

(Published in Sportsworld, May 23, 1990)

A Stellar Career: Sujit Chandra Kumar’s Rise to Editor of O Heraldo

 

Photos: C Sujit Chandra Kumar in front of the 'O Heraldo' office in Panjim; Sujit with his wife Vimina and son Bharath

By Shevlin Sebastian

I met C. Sujit Chandra Kumar over two decades ago when we became colleagues at ‘The Week’, part of the Malayala Manorama Group in Kochi. Later we were colleagues at ‘The Hindustan Times’, Mumbai.

I remember our late-night conversations after work, as we walked to Mahim station to catch the train home. In all the years I have known him, I have never seen him lose his temper. He has always remained mild-mannered.

These days, our conversations, mostly on the phone, revolve around ideas, concepts, philosophy, the meaning of life, and the relentless forward movement of time.

Sujit has built a stellar career. He has covered major international cricket tournaments, like the Indian cricket team’s tour of the West Indies in 1997, the Asia Cup in Colombo, the Wills International Cup in Dhaka in 1998, the 1999 World Cup in England and the Champions Trophy in Sri Lanka in 2002.

He also covered the series between India and Pakistan in Pakistan in 2004.

In 2004, Sujit went to Sri Lanka to cover the constitutional crisis. It was a power struggle between President Chandrika Kumaratunga and Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe over how to handle the country’s long-running conflict with the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam.

Sujit accompanied Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee to the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting (CHOGM) in Nigeria.

His career has taken him to ‘The Muscat Daily’ and ‘The Deccan Chronicle’ (in both Chennai and Kochi), before he became head of the features section at ‘The Times of India’, Kochi.

He later headed operations for ‘E Times’, served as senior faculty at Mathrubhumi Media School, and spent two years as Head of Corporate Communications at Manappuram Finance Limited in Valapad, near Thrissur.

This month, Sujit became the editor of the Panaji-based newspaper ‘O Heraldo’. This 125-year-old newspaper began in Portuguese and shifted to English in October 1983.

It’s a signal achievement, making him the first, and most likely the only one, among our peers to reach the editor’s chair in print media.

“It’s a challenging role,” he said. “I am growing into it. And I am enjoying the process of influencing and getting influenced by society.”

His academic record is also impressive.

Sujit did his MPhil in English Language and Literature from Bharathidasan University in Tiruchirappalli and an MA in English from the University Institute of English in Thiruvananthapuram. He has a certificate in journalism from Madurai Kamaraj University.

Sujit won a Chevening Scholarship to do a course at the University of Westminster, UK. For a while, he worked at ‘The Guardian’, London, where he published seven articles in the Society section.

As for his personal life, Sujit is married to Vimina, a counsellor at Adarsh Charitable Trust. His son Bharath works in the marketing department of ‘The Hindu’, Kochi.

All the best, Sujit, in your new assignment, and may you continue to scale new peaks in the future.

A Thunderous Welcome: Arundhati Roy Launches Mother Mary Comes to Me in Kochi

By Shevlin Sebastian

It was only 5 p.m. on September 2, yet the Mother Mary Hall at St. Teresa’s College, Kochi was three-quarters full for the 6 p.m. show. It was a mix of young, middle-aged, and elderly people. All of them had looks of anticipation on their faces for the worldwide book release of Arundhati Roy’s searing memoir of her mother, ‘Mother Mary Comes to Me.’ The rush was so much that the organisers, DC Books and Penguin Random House India, set up another hall on the first floor where the event could be watched on a large screen.

In the front seats of the main hall were TV legend Prannoy Roy (a cousin of Arundhati from her father’s side) and his wife Radhika, well-known journalist Saba Naqvi, as well as Arundhati’s international publishers, like Simon Prosser, publishing director of Hamish Hamilton, UK, Nan Graham, Senior Vice President, Publisher‑at‑Large, and Editor at Scribner, the literary imprint of Simon & Schuster (USA), as well as Arundhati’s literary agents, David Godwin, Aparna Kumar and Rebecca Wehrmuth.

There was also Malayalam superstar Prithviraj’s producer wife, Supriya, actress Parvathy and Rima Kallingal, and many others from the art and cultural spheres in Kerala.

Arundhati’s relatives from her village of Aymanam were there, apart from her paternal relatives from Bengal. The staff and students of Palikoodam School, which Mary Roy founded in 1967, were also present. People had come from other parts of Kerala as well as Bangalore and Chennai.

When Arundhati arrived in the hall, she received thunderous applause. It sounded like a bounteous monsoon rainfall. This was the writer as a global literary superstar. This may be rare in future as attention spans decline and so too will reading.

Arundhati exchanged a warm embrace with her brother Lalit Kumar Christopher Roy, sharing a warm, affectionate look. Apart from her mother, she has dedicated the book to him. Arundhati, who has a mop of curly grey hair, wore a red top – to match the book cover – over bootcut jeans and red shoes.

In the introduction, award-winning Malayalam author K.R. Meera said, “To read ‘Mother Mary Comes to Me’ is to hug a porcupine. Be also ready to take medicine for sadness. It’s very difficult to describe Arundhati. She is as unpredictable as her works are. I would say that she is the only writer in India that all fascist governments in the world listen to.”

(The hall erupted in generous applause at this statement.)

Meera continued, with a smile, “She is the true Indian international writer. When Arundhati says something, it becomes her news, her headline. And she is the only writer who is known from Kashmir to Tamil Nadu.”

In response, Arundhati said, “My God, almost everybody that I love is gathered in this one room. Except for a few people who aren't in the country. That is a pretty dangerous thing given our government.” The hall again broke into loud applause. “Anyway, I said, for a normal person this would be her wedding or her funeral. But thank God, I am not normal. I am a writer. It’s a book launch.”

She continued, “I want to say that there are many Mother Marys here. One is the Blessed Virgin, for whom this hall is named after. Another is Paul McCartney's Mother Mary, who is in the song [Let It Be]. The third one is ours and she is neither of them. I am actually here to do an introduction to a person who has been my support from the time I was three years old. A man who I love beyond measure. This is my brother LKC Roy, who is going to sing ‘Let It Be’.”

When Arundhati speaks, there is tremulousness at the core of her voice. It sounds like a woman who has suffered much, but has overcome her pain with a sweet smile.

Lalit, who plays the guitar with his left hand, sang a rousing rendition of ‘Let It Be’ accompanied by a young and talented singer, Raina John.

Arundhati then read from the first chapter, titled 'Gangster’. Here is the opening paragraph:

‘She chose September, that most excellent month, to make her move. The monsoon had receded, leaving Kerala gleaming like an emerald strip between the mountains and the sea. As the plane banked to land, and the earth rose to greet us, I couldn’t believe that topography could cause such palpable, physical pain. I had never known that beloved landscape, never imagined it, never evoked it, without her being part of it. I couldn’t think of those hills and trees, the green rivers, the shrinking, cemented-over rice fields with giant billboards rising out of them advertising awful wedding saris and even worse jewellery, without thinking of her. She was woven through it all, taller in my mind than any billboard, more perilous than any river in spate, more relentless than the rain, more present than the sea itself. How could this have happened? How? She checked out with no advance notice. Typically unpredictable.’

Manasi Subramaniam, Editor-in-Chief and Vice-President of Penguin Random House India, who edited the book, gave her view:

“This is a book about freedom,” she said. “Not the kind flattened into slogans or repackaged as lifestyle. This is a messier, more volatile kind. Freedom as exposure, as rupture, as a series of deliberate choices made in full view of power. The freedom to speak, to dissent, to withdraw, to make and unmake and remake a life.

She took a breath and continued, “These are the freedoms that Arundhati Roy insists upon. And they are never theoretical. They are lived, contested, refused, reclaimed. None of it unfolds in isolation. These are not private gestures. These are public acts with consequences. They take shape inside systems that reward obedience and punish deviation. Where language itself is a site of conflict. And yet, she does not cede ground.”

She paused and said forcefully, “This book will outlast us all. It will outlast you. It will outlast me. It will outlast its author.”

Manasi then had a conversation with Arundhati.

Arundhati struck a sombre note when she said, “I do want us to remember that while this book is coming out, it is written in the time of one of the most horrible genocides of the 21st century in Gaza. In full public view. It is easier for us to reach for images of children being starved in Gaza than it is for a glass of water at night. And it is the shame of all of us that we appear to be helpless to stop it because there is a schism now between governments and people, not just in our country, but everywhere.

“I also want to say that today, just as I got ready to come up on stage, the High Court has once again denied bail to [PhD scholar in history at JNU] Umar Khalid and to many of my friends who have been in prison for five years, just like they kept my friend, [Professor GN] Sai Baba in prison for ten years before he was declared innocent and acquitted and he came out and died [on October 12, 2024]. So, yes, I mean, these are terrible things that happen even while literature is and must be written and we must keep on insisting there are other ways of thinking, not just about public things, but also about private things.”

And during the course of this conversation, Arundhati gave a full description of her mother: “In that conservative, stifling little South Indian town where in those days women were only allowed the option of flowing virtue or its affectation, my mother conducted herself with the edginess of a gangster. I watched her unleash all of herself — her genius, her eccentricity, her radical kindness, her militant courage, her ruthlessness, her generosity, her cruelty, her bullying, her hyper-brittleness, and her wild, unpredictable temper — with complete abandon on our tiny, insular, Syrian Christian society which, because of its education and relative wealth, was sequestered from the swirling violence and debilitating poverty in the rest of the country.”

In the end, this was a soaring evening that sent hearts aflutter and for a few brief moments we tasted the breath of pure freedom that has been missing in this country for the past several years.

(Published in rediff.com)