Как-то было время когда я не слышал эту песню уже, наверное, лет десять. И вдруг её внезапно включили на площади в центре Ческе-Будеёвице перед стартом полумарафона в июне 2015 года. Зашло очень в тему :)
О Марадоне ещё. Понравился вот этот пассаж в Eurosport:
If you consider your footballers in terms of their ability and their achievements. If you measure them out in goals and glory. If you heap all their medals and moments in one pan of the cosmic scales, set against the feather in the other, then Maradona, with his Napoli scudetti and his World Cup — and it was very much his World Cup — comes out extremely well.
But if you take the game not just as a sport but as an exquisite machine of torture and close attention and grace that sends some players, some victims, so deep and far into the heart of themselves that they burn up and collapse, like a dying star, and like a dying star go out as a smear of light across the heavens: well, nobody has ever happened to themselves quite so much as Maradona.
Or to put it another way. Football has had many great players, and a few that might reasonably claim to be the greatest. Only one of those few has ever told the Pope to sell the Sistine Chapel for parts.
