Having been brought up in a family with one part of it having British ancestry (my father’s), I developed a fondness for English football (the child in me), very difficult to banish later on in years as I began to have strong left wing political leanings and a postcolonial politics.

As a result, my feeling with regard to the soccer genius that was Diego Armando Maradona was one of love and hatred – a love-hate relationship.

I could not bring myself to forgive him for the travesty of his ‘hand of God’ goal against England in the Mexico 1986 World Cup finals but was always in awe of his sublime soccer skills which seemed to know no limits.

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