I would like to pay a personal tribute to the god of football who retired this week. I realise that I might inflame the latent racism that many feel towards Argentina (remember Las Malvinas !) but I could not care one fuck. So who is it that we should be remembering today ? None otherthan Diego Maradona - and here are my reasons for putting the man on a pedestal: He was arrested and charged for shooting journos from the window of the secure clinic he had checked into to curb his cocaine cravings. I think a few British journos might benefit from such treatment (the shooting, not the nosebag) The look on the booze monster Peter Shilton's face as he appealed in vain after Diego had punched the ball into an empty net - it's just the sort of thing that JFH might conjure up. Not content with scoring through foul means, Diego then goes one better by beating the entire English team with a mazey, jinking run that Bobby Stuart would have been proud of. Perhaps someone might like to point out to the press that the left has always been a fuck-up for England (especially in the absence of G Le Saux) Who can forget Diego's drug-induced celebrations as he celebrated his goal in his last World Cup ? You may also recall that he failed a drug test after the game and was sent home in disgrace (cue the shooting incident from his Cuban clinic) Football is a matter of life and death in Argentina, and the Buenos Aires derbies are notorious for violence, rioting and mayhem. So you would think, then, that when Diego took to the pitch to say a few words to the home crowd during a Boca Juniors Vs River Plate match, he would be sensitive of the crowd's passion and try a little restraint. Think again. Roughly translated, his words were something along the lines of "they thought they could beat us but once again we fucked them in the arse" So farewell then, Diego ! Let's hope that even in retirement you will keep up your sterling work.
Doctore Les.
I would like to echo your sentiments, Les, as nobody has had more entertainment from Diego's off-pitch antics than I. In fact it is true to say that I have learned much from the addled Argie. So much so that on one occasion I also had to check into a rehab clinic, although it must be said that despite all my efforts I could not get my hands on an airgun. Besides, there were no gentlemen of the press to shoot at. I am reminded, however, of an incident that took place involving myself and a violent and crazed ex-resident of said rehab, which I shall relate for your amusement. The ex-resident in question had, for reasons known only to himself, and despite the fact that he had been banned from the premises, wandered in one off the street one night enquiring as to the possibility of a punchup. By a happy accident I was at the time wielding a snooker cue, while in the midst of a shambolic game of pool against a current resident. I say shambolic because my opponent was suffering from a disastrous combination of blackouts, delirium tremens and St Vitus' Dance, due to a sudden withdrawal from tranquilisers (we were, do not forget, in a rehab). Inevitably his visits to the table had thus far consisted of him either fainting while bending down to the table or inadvertently hitting the cue ball at least three times on every shot. But, as Ronnie Corbett would say, I digress. As our wild-eyed ex-resident looked around the room for customers, his eye naturally fell on me as I idly twirled my cue while waiting in vain for a turn at the table. Needless to say this was interpreted by captain nut-nut as fighting talk. You will therefore understand that I had no choice other than to shatter my cue against the side of his head as part of the ensuing negotiations. Game, set and fucking match. I believe that this puts me, if not in Diego's league, then certainly pushing for promotion from division four. Do I win £5 ?
© 2001
Priesty's Chelsea FC Refuge.
Sir,
