It's Maradona's birthday!!!

It's the day that even the most ardent Maradona fans thought would never come. Yes the great man, possibly the greatest living short man, celebrates his fiftieth birthday today.

I, for one, will be raising a glass and perhaps light a cigar in honour of the greatest scourge upon the lumbering large folk of this world since Bonaparte.

I imagine Terry Butcher and Peter Shilton, sitting there glumly, once again feeling agitated at the great humiliation wrought upon them by the Argie genius. Never on a sporting field has the woeful inadequacies of the larger man been exposed than on that fateful quarter-final in World Cup '86.

Maradona showed cunning, audacity, ingenuity, skill, speed and impudence; Butcher and Shilton, on the other hand, had honest endeavour only. So he scored one by outjumping Shilton to punch home, and a second by going past the whole England defence and tapping home.

The second was named goal of the century, but really the two goals are so intertwined that they should always be thought of as part of the same package of humiliation Maradona meted out to the English. This was of course of coming shortly after that horrible Thatcherite war in the Malvinas, so he had an especial reason to pull out his A game.

The thing should act as a lesson to us English not to have wars with nations who tend to be better at football than us - it only focuses their minds and makes things worse.

He then went on to become one of the world's most notorious cokeheads, hanging out with the Tour de France winner, Marco Pantani. Pantani died of his drug abuse, and Lord only knows how Maradona came through, but thankfully he did.

Maradona in his 2010 vintage is still incredibly good value. He was one of the few bright spots of an awfully drab World Cup. He handed out one of the great putdowns to his nemesis, Pele, by telling him to 'go back to the museum.'

He of course was not shown to be as good a manager as a player. But at least his lads looked like they were trying and working for him and each other, and enjoying themselves, none of which could be said of England.

So, all short men, and all those who love great sport should celebrate this great day. The day Maradona notched up a most unlikely half-century.

My top 10 short men

Top 10 short men as of June 2010

1. Napoleon
2. Maradona
3. Sisqo
4. Javier Mascherano
5. Andrew Carnegie
6. Dudley Moore
7. Aston from JLS
8. Tinie Tempah (not sure of height, but clearly not a big guy)
9. Jermain Defoe
10. Prince

Argentina for the World Cup: The short man's choice

For the short man, there are only really three choices on who to back at the upcoming World Cup.
In height terms, it's really a toss-up between Argentina, North Korea and Spain.

Consulting my Panini World Cup 2010 sticker album which happily gives all the players' heights, Spain have a bunch of good short players, including David Silva, Iniesta and Xavi.

North Korea have the shortest squad overall. It is a moot point whether the North Koreans are short per se or if it is their Communist diet that is restricting their growth. Still, I for one will be looking out for Mun In-Guk, their striker who measure 5ft 6ins.

But the short man with a rational bone in his body must back the Argie.

There are many, many reasons for this. They have three great small (under 5ft 9ins) players: Mascherano, Tevez and Messi.

I love Mascherano, despite him playing for Liverpoo. He is entirely cynical in the tackle, gets booked virtually every game and enjoys suggesting a player dived when he has just placed six studs in their knee. He is the archetypal Dirty Argie and I suspect he has a visceral hatred of lanky footballers. If I was a professional footballer I would be Mascherano.

Tevez is your typical try-too-hard short man. He never knows when to stop, which is why he scores so many goals in the last ten minutes of games.

And then there is Messi: the best player in the world at the moment who has scored four hat-tricks in this calendar year, including four goals against Arsenal.

But the main reason to back them is their manager: Diego Armando Maradona. A man who gives your Carling drinking divvy doughnut England fan nightmares due to the Hand of God goal in 1986. That he mentally and physically destroyed Terry Butcher and Peter Shilton was bad enough. But the fact he effectively said God was Argentinian is something your England fan can't handle.

Apparently his tactics are to have a back four who never cross the half-way line, Mascherano snapping into the tackle and then passing it to Messi to do something genius.

Here's to 1986 all over again.

World cup build-up begins with jingoistic attack on short man Maradona

Qualification is over, the summer is drawing near. And so the build-up to the World Cup can begin in earnest.

For the England fan this takes on a very familiar form. First, forget all previous World Cups apart from the one we won in 1966. Second, casually play down the claims of better teams such as Germany and Brazil.

But most of all, begin the jingoistic hatred of the Argie, in particular their 5ft 5ins manager, Diego Armando Maradona.

The English hate Maradona for very good reason. He is the greatest player of all time. He is an Argie – our desperate foe in the Falklands War. He hates the English. And, to make matters worse, he is short.

Maradona did the England football fan the great service of crystallising their hatred of him and his nation in a single moment; namely, the Hand of God goal in the 1986 World Cup. Maradona was at the peak of his powers. He had already ripped to shreds the English defence – the ape-like Terry Butcher included – to score one of the greatest goals of all time.

But Diego knew that to truly inflame the English he needed to not just beat them through wondrous skill. He needed to cheat as well. Thus, when he rose for a header against Peter Shilton he decided to reach up and knock the ball into the net with his hand.

The sheer impudence of it was magnificent. Shilton is about a foot taller than him and, as a goalie, could use his hands. So how on earth could Maradona win the ball, legally?

He couldn’t. But in that World Cup, when Maradona convinced the world he could do anything, the referee succumbed to believe that this ‘pint size’ player could also leap higher than a six-foot goalie.

Maradona is now in charge of the Argentina football team. And while he has shown himself to have little tactical nous, unfortunately for the English, he doesn’t really need any. All he has to do is pick Lionel Messi, tell the rest of his players to give him the ball, and the pesky Argies will have a much better chance of winning the World Cup than England.

Which leaves the England football fan in the position of having no option but to take recourse in the old sport of mocking Maradona. And last week, Diego gave the perfect opportunity, by getting bitten on the face by his dog, while trying to kiss her.

This made front page news for the Sun, with its oh so witty headline, Hand of Dog. This prompted a decent flurry of comments on the newspaper’s website with one chappie saying succinctly, ‘it is God’s punishment for him cheating on England.’

Well said. Always best to get the abuse in first before the Argies, led by their titchy maestro, start plotting our demise in the most dastardly manner.

http://www.thesun.co.uk/sol/homepage/news/2914190/Snoggy-with-doggy-leaves-Diego-groggy.html