1. The Hand of God: Maradona’s Controversial Strike That Shook the World
On June 22, 1986, in Mexico City’s legendary Estadio Azteca, 114,580 fans packed into the suffocating heat for one of the most unforgettable matches in football history. Argentina vs. England—two nations with bitter recent history, still smarting from the Falklands War just four years prior. The air was thick, not just with heat, but with animosity. This wasn’t just a quarterfinal; it was an emotional battlefield.
At 51 minutes, the world would witness a moment that would live on in infamy—a goal that would split opinions, stir national pride, and fuel decades of debate. Jorge Valdano fluffed a looping ball into the English penalty area, and Diego Maradona, all 5'5" of him, charged after it with the tenacity of a lion. In a desperate attempt to clear the ball, England’s goalkeeper Peter Shilton leapt into the air, arms fully extended, while Maradona, ever the opportunist, also leaped, but not with his head. Instead, his left fist made contact with the ball, sending it into the net.
The referee, Ali Bin Nasser of Tunisia, stood frozen for a moment. England’s players exploded in outrage. “Blatant cheat!” shouted Shilton, while Terry Butcher’s face turned crimson in fury. The pubs in England would soon replay the footage ad nauseum, each time with more disbelief. It was a moment that would become one of the most controversial goals in the history of the sport.
But Maradona wasn’t fazed. With the Argentinian fans in the stands roaring, Diego, ever the cheeky figure, later admitted with a smirk, “A little with the head, a little with the hand.” The audacity. The street-smart brilliance. In the face of worldwide condemnation, Maradona remained unshaken. England’s protests were dismissed, the goal stood.
In the aftermath, England was left seething, and Argentina’s faithful erupted in jubilation. For many in Argentina, it was more than just a goal. It was a form of cosmic justice—payback for the Falklands, where the English had defeated them just a few years earlier. To them, Maradona's punch wasn’t a cheat; it was divine intervention. To England, it was a robbery—a travesty.
As the game progressed, Maradona’s hand would continue to be the talk of the town, but the next four minutes would provide an even more stunning display. While the English were still reeling from the injustice of the first goal, Diego Maradona, already a national hero, was about to deliver a moment of pure footballing magic—one that would make the Hand of God look like a mere afterthought.
In the post-match interviews, Maradona would famously say, “For Argentina, all of us,” but for England, it was the loss that still burns to this day. Clips of that goal—of Shilton’s helpless dive, Maradona’s knowing grin, and the fury of the English bench—are replayed endlessly. Football’s history was rewritten in that single moment.
It’s a goal that transcends sport, a goal that has become folklore, a goal that continues to stir emotions across the globe. For Argentina, it will forever be a symbol of their national pride; for England, it’s a bitter pill they’ll never forget.
2. Goal of the Century: Maradona’s Masterpiece That Took England’s Soul
Just minutes after the Hand of God had made the world stop, Maradona gave the world something else—a moment of footballing artistry that would elevate him to the level of the gods. Argentina’s 1-0 lead was under threat; England had just been sucker-punched, and their defense was in shambles. But what followed was nothing short of a masterpiece—a goal that would later be crowned “Goal of the Century” by FIFA in 2002.
The stage was set in the 54th minute. Maradona, having just scored the most controversial goal of the tournament, found himself with the ball at his feet again. This time, it was not a hand that would decide his fate, but his feet—his magical, mesmerizing feet. He took a simple pass from Héctor Enrique, just inside his own half, and began a run that would leave English defenders in his wake.
From the moment Maradona took the ball, there was only one destination in mind: the English net. He surged forward, a blur of blue and white, leaving the opposition scrambling behind him. Peter Beardsley lunged, but missed. Peter Reid puffed in pursuit, but Maradona was too quick. Terry Fenwick, Terry Butcher—both tried and failed to stop him. Butcher, desperate and lunging, could only watch as Maradona danced through the English defense like a maestro conducting a symphony.
At the edge of the penalty box, with Shilton rushing off his line, Maradona feinted left, then dragged the ball right—his body a blur of quick, decisive movement—and coolly slotted the ball past the keeper with his left foot. The ball nestled into the corner of the net. It was 2-0. The stadium, already filled with the noise of 114,580 spectators, erupted in delirium. The roar could be heard across the city as Mexico quaked in excitement.
Barry Davies, the BBC commentator, could hardly contain himself: “That’s magnificent!” His voice cracked with emotion as he witnessed what would become the defining moment of the tournament. Butcher, England’s most experienced defender, muttered, “Genius, bloody hell.” And truly, that’s what it was—a stroke of genius, a goal that was so perfectly executed that it seemed beyond the reach of any player, let alone an entire team.
The legacy of this goal is unparalleled. To this day, fans around the world watch in awe as Maradona glides past English players, leaving them clutching at thin air. It’s a piece of footballing art, a goal that will never lose its magic. Maradona, drenched in sweat, said, “The earth moved,” and it did—for every fan in that stadium, and for everyone who’s ever watched the replay. It was a moment of pure brilliance that transcended the match itself.
Even with Gary Lineker pulling one back for England at the 81st minute, Maradona’s second goal had already sealed the deal. Argentina won 2-1, and Maradona’s place in footballing history was cemented forever. “Miracle,” Carlos Bilardo, the Argentine coach, could only mutter as he watched his star player mesmerize the world. Shilton, for all his protests about the first goal, could only sigh and admit, “Unstoppable.”
As the years have gone by, Maradona’s run from his own half, the deft feints, the slick finish—these are all replayed over and over again, becoming more than just a goal, but a defining moment of genius. England, stunned and beaten, would fade from the spotlight, but Argentina and Maradona would rise to claim the crown. It was the goal that encapsulated his brilliance—the moment where a mere mortal transformed into a footballing deity.
In the end, Diego Maradona at 25 had not only carried his team to victory, but he had secured his legacy as one of the greatest players the game had ever known. His magic, his genius, would echo throughout history. And for everyone lucky enough to witness it, Mexico '86 became not just a tournament, but a legend.
3. Maradona’s Final Masterpiece: The Moment of Genius That Sealed the Deal
It was June 29, 1986, and the Azteca was alive with anticipation. The final of the FIFA World Cup was upon the world’s stage, and 114,580 fans packed into the legendary stadium in Mexico City, their voices unified in one pulse-pounding rhythm. Argentina, under the genius of Diego Maradona, faced West Germany—one final hurdle to clinch their second World Cup.
By the 83rd minute, the score was 2-2. Argentina had the lead early, with José Luis Brown’s header in the 23rd minute and Jorge Valdano’s composed strike in the 56th putting them in control. But West Germany, true to form, was never out of the fight. Karl-Heinz Rummenigge pulled one back in the 74th minute, and Rudi Völler made it 2-2 just six minutes later. The tension in the stadium was unbearable; the world held its breath.
And then, the moment arrived. Diego Maradona, battered and bruised throughout the tournament, the weight of Argentina’s hopes on his shoulders, rose to the occasion. With the scoreline deadlocked and both teams desperate for a winner, Maradona had the ball at his feet 35 yards from goal. West Germany’s defense, led by Hans-Peter Briegel and Norbert Eder, circled like sharks, closing in on him. But Diego, the master, was in full control.
Two touches, a shift of the hips—Pierre Littbarski grasped at air. Maradona’s head was up, his eyes searching for the opening. And there it was. Jorge Burruchaga, his trusted ally, was peeling off to the right, making a run toward the goal. Maradona saw the gap and, with the precision of a seasoned surgeon, lofted the ball perfectly over Briegel and Eder, threading the needle like only he could. Burruchaga bolted into the open space, racing towards goal. With the calmness of a man who had done this a thousand times, he slotted the ball past West Germany’s goalkeeper Harald Schumacher.
The crowd erupted. A wave of sound so deafening it seemed to shake the very foundation of the Azteca. Argentina was ahead, 3-2, and the title was within reach. Carlos Bilardo, Argentina’s coach, screamed in disbelief, “He’s a god!” Franz Beckenbauer, the legendary German coach, slumped in defeat, murmuring, “Maradona’s call.” Over in the pubs back home, fans in Argentina were dancing in the streets, already celebrating a moment that would define a generation.
But while Burruchaga’s finish would be remembered as the decisive blow, it was Maradona’s genius that made it all possible. He had, once again, proven why he was the heartbeat of this team. “I saw the gap, and I hit it,” he would later say, shrugging off the immense weight of the assist. Maradona had been involved in seven of Argentina’s goals in the tournament—five scored and two assists—but this one, this pass, was his final masterpiece.
Argentina held on, weathering the storm in the final minutes as West Germany pushed forward in search of an equalizer. When the final whistle blew, it was Maradona’s vision and Burruchaga’s composure that had delivered the trophy. 3-2. Argentina had won their second World Cup.
For Maradona, this was the crowning achievement of an unforgettable tournament. As he lifted the trophy, he roared, “For all of us!” And for Argentina, it was more than just football—it was redemption. After the wounds of the Falklands War, the World Cup was a moment of catharsis, a collective triumph for a nation that had suffered so much. Burruchaga, drenched in sweat, grinned from ear to ear. “It’s ours,” he said.
The legacy of Maradona’s final pass—perfectly weighted, a touch of brilliance—would live on forever. Pelé, watching from the stands, would later say, “That’s the soul of 1986.” And it was true. Maradona’s tournament, his leadership, and his flair were the essence of the World Cup. Mexico '86, as a whole, was about the magic of a single player—a player who, with every step, made football history.
In the years to come, the moment would become folklore. The clips of Maradona surveying the pitch, the elegant pass, and Burruchaga’s cool finish would be replayed over and over again—forever etching Maradona’s name in the annals of footballing greatness.
4. England’s Lineker Strikes Back: A Moment of Hope in a Sea of Maradona Magic
It was June 22, 1986—an electric night in Mexico City’s Estadio Azteca. Argentina and England were facing off in what would go down as one of the most heated and memorable encounters in World Cup history. With Maradona’s infamous Hand of God goal at 51 minutes and his Goal of the Century at 55 minutes, England were reeling, 2-0 down. It looked like Argentina was cruising to victory in this quarterfinal, a match that had become far more than just a football game. But then, in the 81st minute, something happened that gave England fans a glimmer of hope.
Gary Lineker, 25 years old and already one of England’s brightest stars, made his presence felt when his country needed it most. John Barnes, who had been brought on as a substitute, was causing chaos down the left wing, cutting inside and whipping in a perfect cross to the far post. Lineker, who had been lurking, pounced. Rising above José Luis Cuciuffo, he met the ball with a well-timed header, sending it past Argentina’s goalkeeper Nery Pumpido.
2-1. England were alive. The fans, who had been on the verge of giving up, found new hope. The roar that followed could be heard across Mexico City, and the England bench erupted in jubilation. “We’re alive!” Bobby Robson, England’s coach, shouted as his team surged forward, now with the momentum on their side.
Lineker’s goal, his sixth in five matches, secured the Golden Boot for him at that moment. But more importantly, it had reignited a spark in the English side. The game was far from over. With Barnes continuing to torment the Argentine defense, Lineker came close again, just inches away from an equalizer as he stretched to meet another perfect cross. The goal would’ve been the stuff of legend, but it wasn’t to be. Pumpido got a fingertip to the ball, and England’s hopes of a dramatic comeback began to fade as time slipped away.
“We could’ve turned it,” Lineker mused later, his voice tinged with the bitter taste of what might have been. And Maradona, too, admitted, “They rattled us.” Argentina, as formidable as ever, was on the ropes for a moment, but they held firm. England’s rally, powered by Lineker’s poise and Barnes’ creativity, was not enough. The final whistle blew, and Argentina held on to win 2-1, advancing to the semifinals.
It wasn’t the win England had dreamed of, but it was a fight—a show of resilience, heart, and determination that England could be proud of. “Everything we had,” Terry Butcher would later say. For England, it was a rallying cry in the face of Maradona’s brilliance. Lineker’s goal would be remembered as the last stand in a match where they had been outclassed, yet refused to back down.
The final score would show a loss, but the fight, the spirit, would be something England would take with them. “Our lion,” Bobby Robson said, his pride for Lineker shining through. That night, in a match dominated by Maradona’s magic, Lineker’s moment of brilliance gave England something to hold on to—a memory that, despite the defeat, would continue to fuel their footballing dreams for years to come.
Even as Argentina lifted the trophy and Maradona became immortalized in footballing history, Lineker’s goal—his grit, his fight—would never be forgotten. It may not have been the win they wanted, but it was a moment of defiance, a testament to the heart of a team that refused to be outclassed. A moment that lives on in the memory of every England fan.
5. France’s Golden Generation: Glory and Heartbreak in Mexico '86
On June 25, 1986, Guadalajara’s Estadio Jalisco was a cauldron of emotions as France faced West Germany in the World Cup semi-finals. With 65,000 fans crammed into the stadium, sweat pouring down, and the heat of the Mexican sun bearing down on them, France's golden generation was about to experience one of the most heartbreaking losses in their history. The scoreboard read 2-0 to West Germany, with Andreas Brehme’s early strike at the 9th minute and Rudi Völler’s late goal at the 90th sealing the French team’s fate. But even in defeat, this French side, laden with talent, would leave an indelible mark on the tournament.
Their journey through the 1986 World Cup had been nothing short of spectacular. France opened their campaign in Group A with a 1-0 win over Canada, thanks to a late goal from Jean-Pierre Papin. They then drew 1-1 with the USSR, with Luis Fernández’s equalizer salvaging a point for Les Bleus, before finishing group play with a resounding 3-0 victory over Hungary, with Bernard Stopyra, Jean Tigana, and Dominique Rocheteau all getting on the scoresheet.
In the Round of 16, they dispatched Italy 2-0, with the mercurial Michel Platini scoring early and Stopyra adding a second. The French machine was rolling, combining exquisite skill with an unshakable team spirit. But it was the quarter-final clash with Brazil that truly put their name in lights. With the game tied 1-1 after Careca’s early goal and Platini’s equalizer, the match went to penalties. In a tense shootout, Joël Bats saved Sócrates' effort, and Júlio César hit the post, securing a 4-3 victory for France. The nation rejoiced; it was a team for the ages, a squad full of flair, magic, and fight.
However, their fairytale would come to a bitter end in the semi-finals. The game against West Germany, while tight and fiercely contested, was ultimately decided by moments of clinical precision from the Germans. Platini, who had been the heart and soul of the team, lamented the result, saying simply, “Gutted.” But even in defeat, there was no denying the brilliance of the French squad. Henri Michel, their coach, beamed with pride and affection for his players: “Class,” he said, knowing his team had showcased all the qualities of a golden generation.
France would go on to play for third place, facing Belgium in a thrilling encounter. The match ended 4-2 in favor of the French, with goals from Ferreri, Papin, and a brace from Platini. But the pride of the nation could not quite erase the sting of falling just short of a World Cup final. “Too much,” Platini muttered after the third-place match, his mind still on what could have been. Still, the team’s performance in Mexico, from the brilliance of Platini and Giresse to the steel of Tigana and Bats, would forever be etched into the memories of fans around the world.
Despite their disappointment, the golden generation of France had displayed a style of play that was captivating to watch. They combined technical artistry with an unyielding work ethic. The squad had 11 goals in total, their flair on full display throughout the tournament. “Lions,” Tigana joked after the third-place win, a nod to the heart of a team that had shown strength in adversity. Even Pelé, watching from afar, acknowledged their class: “Artists,” he called them, recognizing the creativity and genius that ran through every player on that team.
For France, the journey through Mexico ’86 had been filled with highs and lows, with their final record standing at four wins, one draw, and two losses. And while they left the tournament with bronze, their performance was a declaration that France had arrived on the world stage with a golden generation. “It’s ours,” Alain Giresse, one of the stars of the midfield, grinned after the final whistle, his shirt soaked with sweat. “We’ll come back stronger.”
As the tournament moved toward its conclusion, France’s dazzling run would live on as a testament to their brilliance, even if the ultimate prize eluded them. In the annals of World Cup history, their campaign in Mexico ’86 would always be remembered as a glorious one, filled with moments of pure footballing magic.
6. Spain’s Penalty Pain vs. Belgium: A Heartbreaking Night in Puebla
June 22, 1986, was a day that would haunt Spanish football for years to come. In the quarter-finals of the World Cup, Spain faced Belgium at Puebla’s Estadio Cuauhtémoc, with 45,000 spectators packed into the stands, their eyes fixed on what promised to be a thrilling encounter. Spain, having played some beautiful football in the tournament, was primed to take another step toward glory. But the road to the semi-finals would be marred by a cruel twist of fate: a penalty shootout loss that would etch itself into Spain’s World Cup history for all the wrong reasons.
The match was a classic, full of tension and drama. Belgium took the lead in the 35th minute with a scrappy header from Nico Claesen, making it 1-0. But Spain wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Juan Señor, the hero of the moment, smashed a rocket into the back of the net at 85 minutes, sending the game into extra time. The fans held their breath, waiting for either side to break the deadlock, but it wasn’t to be. No goals came in extra time, and the match would be decided by penalties.
Spain lined up for the shootout with hope in their hearts. Señor, Chendo, and Emilio Butragueño converted their penalties with ice-cold precision. But Belgium’s squad was resolute. Claesen, Enzo Scifo, Franky Vercauteren, and Leo Vervoort all scored. Spain’s hopes were dashed when Eloy Olaya, one of their key players, blasted his penalty wide. Jean-Marie Pfaff, Belgium’s goalkeeper, dove to make the save and then grinned as he looked at his teammates, knowing they had done enough to seal a 5-4 win.
The heartbreak for Spain was palpable. “Gutted,” coach Luis Suárez muttered after the final whistle, his team undone by the cruel lottery of penalties. Despite Spain’s dominance during the match—10 shots to Belgium’s eight, with 53% possession—this was a case where clinical finishing and nerves of steel won out. “Cruel,” lamented Belgium’s manager, Guy Thys, his team having fought tooth and nail to survive the shootout.
For Spain, the pain was especially sharp because their football had been so full of flair. Butragueño had been dazzling in attack, Michel had been smooth in midfield, and the team had played with style. But penalties can be unforgiving, and Spain’s chance for a semi-final berth slipped away in the blink of an eye.
In the bars and homes across Spain, the pain of Eloy’s miss echoed loudly. Fans sat in stunned silence, processing the agony of what could have been. Meanwhile, in Belgium, there was joy. The victory sent the team to the semi-finals, where they would fall to Argentina 2-0, but their penalty win would be remembered as one of the most dramatic moments of Mexico '86.
“It’s agony,” Eloy Olaya would say later, reflecting on his moment of despair. “But that’s football.” His miss would be replayed endlessly in the pubs, where the tension of the shootout still felt raw. For Spain, the dream of a World Cup semi-final was over, but the pain of this night—of the missed chances and the penalty failure—would linger long after the final whistle. A footballing curse? Perhaps. But the spirit of Spanish football shone bright in their play, and the lesson from Mexico ’86 was clear: Spain’s footballing soul had arrived, and though their heartbreak was severe, their flair would continue to captivate the world.
