How had he been propelled so far, so fast? Evidently God, the Beard as he called him, had something to do with it. The Beard had plans for him, starting with the squat, strong body He gave him, and the huge thighs, which made it almost impossible to tackle him at speed. He filled him with love of the beauty and possibility of the game, and with talent that saw him transferred for record sums of money. There were other good assists, too.

In the 1986 World Cup quarter-final against England, where God's hand and his own fist shot up to engineer a goal he knew was illegal, the Beard then blinded the officials so they didn't see it. Four minutes later the Beard helped out to create the goal of his life, allowing him to weave past five England players, trick the goalie with a dummy, tic, and put the ball in, tac. A certain urchin cunning also helped. It showed in the way he played, revelling in tricks and touches: nutmegs, like his debut pass in his first game for Argentinos Juniors, straight through a defender's legs; back-heel flicks and sombreros, kicking the ball over an opponent to retrieve it on the other side.

Humiliating England, he said, was like stealing a wallet. Though he hated being called a hustler, he had to take every chance. It might look like cheating or deceiving, or it might be skill. The line was narrow sometimes. If it won games, it didn't matter. His drug problems started in the same way: if ephedrine or cocaine gave him an edge over the opposition, fine. He was sure he could control it as sweetly as a ball, at the beginning. Things got a lot more complicated later.

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