Gimnasia after Maradona
El Diego’s tragic demise has left his old club picking up the pieces
El Diego found mutual love in a hopeless place when he took over struggling Gimnasia in September 2019, defying his doubters to rejuvenate both himself and the ailing Argentine outfit. Since the legend’s death in November, however, things just haven’t been the same in La Plata
Just minutes before kick- off, the president of Club de Gimnasia y Esgrima La Plata was in a panic. His manager was giving him an unexpected last- minute request: the famous South American grilled sausage sandwich known as a choripan.
Sadly for Diego Maradona, el chori is sold only outside football stadiums in Argentina. If Gimnasia’s head honcho was to satisfy Maradona’s craving, he had little option but to make a mad dash before play began.
“It was hard to explain to the street vendors that we were desperate to get the sandwich immediately because it was for Diego – but in the end, we were successful,” Gimnasia president Gabriel Pellegrino tells Fourfourtwo with a grin.
The chori anecdote is one of several that puts a smile back on the faces of those who were around Maradona during his final days.
“Every day with Diego was an adventure,” reflects goalkeeper Jorge Broun, one of the players who signed because of Maradona and left after his death. “We were so lucky to have shared more than a year with him.”
Ask anyone who was around for El Diego’s 14 months at Gimnasia, and they all say the same: there really was no one quite like him...
HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF
Diego Maradona was officially confirmed as Gimnasia manager on September 8, 2019, three months after a fairly successful stint at Dorados in Mexico.
Gimnasia fans claim their club – nicknamed El Lobo, or ‘ The Wolf’ – is the most popular in La Plata, a city about one hour’s drive from Argentina’s capital, Buenos Aires. However, they have been constantly overshadowed by their neighbours, Estudiantes. While Gimnasia are one of the country’s oldest football clubs, founded back in 1887, Estudiantes – formed in 1905 – became La Plata’s most famous representatives due to the golden generation of the 1960s.
In 1967, armed with an arsenal of dirty tricks and some infamous tactics, Estudiantes became the first club outside of Argentina’s Big Five ( Independiente, Boca Juniors, River Plate, San Lorenzo and Racing) to win a title in the professional era. As five- time league champions and four- time victors in the Copa Libertadores ( 1968, 1969, 1970 and 2009), ‘ The Rat Stabbers’ have comfortably been La Plata’s dominant force for decades. Their crowning glory: 1968’ s Intercontinental Cup triumph over the Manchester United of Busby and Best, Charlton and Law.
In comparison, Gimnasia’s trophy cabinet features a dusty Primera Division title that was captured in 1929. El Lobo’s glory days are all in black and white from the beginning of the last century, when their players largely worked in La Plata’s slaughterhouses and meat- processing plants, earning them the nickname of Los Triperos: ‘ The Gut Handlers’.
Guts are what they’ve needed to survive the dark years since. From going a decade without a derby win – a period that included a 7- 0 shellacking from Estudiantes in 2006 – to losing the title in the season’s final round no fewer than five times in the past 25 years, Gimnasia have proved time and again that they’re no club for anyone chasing silverware.
Diego Maradona knew that – but he didn’t care. For him, football was always about something different: heart; passion; keeping going, no matter how hard you’re hit. Fans of Gimnasia were Diego’s kind of people.
“Before we were board members, we were a group of friends whose dream was to meet Maradona,” president Pellegrino tells FFT. “Six years later, when our coach resigned, I had the bonkers idea to try. Why not?”
Naturally, tracking Maradona down wasn’t easy. But after several calls, Pellegrino had the number he desperately wanted. He sent Argentina’s 1986 hero a Whatsapp message to see if he was available for a call. “No, not a call – let’s do it on video,” replied Maradona. “I was concerned about not getting a strong signal,” says Pellegrino, “so I asked, ‘ Diego, in case the signal is bad, can I call you instead?’ He said, ‘ No, if the signal is not good, then you will come to my house’. And that’s what happened. That afternoon, I was knocking on Maradona’s door.”
To Pellegrino’s surprise, the welcome could not have been any more perfect. “He opened the door wearing a Gimnasia shirt, wrapped in a Gimnasia flag, and jumping to the tune of a Gimnasia song playing on his speakers,” says the president, laughing.
Maradona had undergone knee surgery a couple of weeks earlier, but it didn’t seem to matter: he was elated. “Today you’ll meet me, but I’ve been coaching Gimnasia since
“Presi, I was looking for you.” “Sure, Diego – is there anything I can do?” “Yes. Could you get me a chori?”
“HE OPENED THE DOOR WEARING A GIMNASIA SHIRT, WRAPPED IN A GIMNASIA FLAG, JUMPING TO THE TUNE OF A GIMNASIA SONG”
yesterday,” he declared, beaming to a thrilled Pellegrino. “I can still remember his words,” continues Pellegrino. “He said, ‘ I don’t care about the money, but I need you to tell me you really want me as the manager. As you know, I’m outlawed in Argentine football’.”
Maradona’s opening request was to avoid making a formal presentation. “I would like to have the fans around,” he said. “I want to go on the pitch and see the people united.”
Three days later, Gimnasia’s Estadio Juan Carmelo Zerillo home – capacity 21,500 – was packed with an estimated 30,000 fans, desperate to greet Argentina’s most popular player of all time. Diego, still suffering after his knee surgery, entered stage left in a golf buggy, then stepped out of it and cried. “You will be the extra man that will make us win games – and we will win them!” he shouted, before squeezing in a crowd- pleasing dig at Estudiantes: “At this club, we don’t need machine guns or revolvers to win.” Gimnasia’s ecstatic supporters began singing, “He who doesn’t jump is an Englishman.” Maradona jumped as well.
Straight after the show, an improvised press conference was held beneath the stands – the one place that could accommodate the swathes only Maradona could attract. “Here, I come to work,” he said. “Those journalists who say I won’t come to training sessions? Don’t believe them. They were the same ones who said that I wouldn’t stick out two years in the desert [ in the UAE] in 60- degree heat with 7am training sessions.”
GAMES WITH THRONES
Coaching Gimnasia was a major motivator in Maradona’s last act. For someone who felt neglected by his own environment, and who often suffered from anxiety and depression alongside extreme difficulties just in walking, returning to the top flight was a huge boost.
In his 14 months at the helm, Maradona made a string of new signings and promoted five youth players to his first team, including 16- year- old striker Ivo Mammini who made his debut in the Copa Argentina. Gimnasia were bottom of the Primera Division when he arrived five games into the 2019- 20 season, but he soon created the positive energy his new team needed. Even defeats in each of Diego’s first three matches, taking Gimnasia’s miserable run to seven losses in a row, didn’t scare him. “I’m stuck here and up to my balls – I won’t resign,” he scolded.
But, less than three months into the job, he did exactly that – before announcing a U- turn two days later and returning. At that point, it seemed as if Maradona needed Gimnasia even more than Gimnasia needed Maradona. After resembling a tired jedi, he eventually looked to be regaining his strength.
“The first thing that comes to mind is, ‘ Gee, how on Earth did we wait so long to have him coaching in our country?’” says Pellegrino. “Our fanaticism prevented us from enjoying him more, because for years he was under siege [ in Argentina].”
With the exception of his 21- month spell in charge of the national team between 2008 and 2010, Maradona hadn’t been a manager in his home country since 1995. Now he had rediscovered what it was like to be back in the spotlight for the right reasons – not internal family battles, nor being pals with Venezuelan dictator Nicolas Maduro, but pure footballing decisions: goal celebrations, tactics and motivational soundbites.
Gimnasia were also finding themselves in uncharted waters: 3,000 members signed up within a week of Maradona’s arrival. The No. 10 shirt quickly sold out in the club shop. From being the 19th most popular choice in terms of TV ratings, Gimnasia jumped to fifth. A special channel, Diego Cam, became part of the on- demand menu – it simply followed the manager sitting on the bench, and later, on his throne.
The idea of a throne was first offered when Gimnasia visited Newell’s Old Boys in October. It became a trend. Soon, every club wanted to give him a new vantage point and special ceremony, from live concerts to football icons welcoming him onto the sidelines.
Gimnasia supporter Hector Gutierrez puts it this way: “El Lobo is above all about passion – we have a deep sense of belonging despite everything. Maradona made us recover that feeling. People started to believe the miracle [ of staying up] was possible. He took a team with a broken jaw and made it stronger… it was a complete revolution in a humble side.”
Despite the relegation battle that raged on, Diego received beautiful homages wherever he went. They were the kind of tributes he
hadn’t enjoyed for decades, and the extra motivation he needed to prove that he could deliver Gimnasia from the drop.
Such sentiments were mirrored by the man himself, who often gave his players surprise presents. “If you just happened to say to him, ‘ Oh, Diego, nice glasses’ as a compliment, he would take them off and give them to you,” revealed midfielder Brahian Aleman. “He was such a humble guy.”
Fellow midfielder Patricio Monti added: “One day, he showed up in the dressing room and noticed I was wearing burgundy boots. He said, ‘ My God, those are really ugly’, then he asked me for my size. The next day, he gave me some black boots to wear instead.”
Maradona would wait until midnight so he could be first to offer birthday wishes to his team’s young players. On the day he signed autographs with Gimnasia fans for the first time, he asked the security guards to collect any unsigned shirts after half an hour, then he returned to sign them the next day.
“I still remember when he was speaking about the team’s tactics and I was leaving the stadium in my car, with a noisy exhaust pipe,” recalls goalkeeper Broun. “In seconds, my phone exploded with texts – Diego was telling journalists about the car I drove and how crazy I was. It was hilarious.
“I had the privilege of waking him up on his 60th birthday. We made a morning visit and I jumped on his bed as he was sleeping. He cursed me and asked me to come back later. ‘ Wake up or I will beat the s** t out of you – you know I’m crazy,’ I said. Within two minutes he was dressed, telling the others, ‘ Did you see what he just did?! He had to be a goalkeeper – who else would do this?’”
Ahead of Gimnasia’s fixture against Boca, Maradona invited a famous comedian, Silva, to perform in front of his players. The previous week, he had given them crucifixes to avoid bad spirits before their decisive game against Atletico Tucuman – which they then won 1- 0. A highly superstitious Maradona also hated his team’s green training vests and ordered them to be taken away, plus he disliked the numbers 13 and 17 as symbols of bad luck.
True to form, Diego did things his own way at Gimnasia – but whatever he did worked, as he steered them up to 19th of 24 teams before Argentina’s campaign was cut short. The league season was abandoned in April – ultimately, COVID- 19 spared them immediate immunity from the country’s three- campaign relegation system – but El Lobo had given themselves a fighting chance when all looked lost. Fittingly, that Boca game – at his spiritual home, La Bombonera – was Maradona’s last league game as Gimnasia boss.
His identification with the team was total. In almost every picture uploaded at home, he was wearing some Gimnasia gear. “What surprised me is that next to photos with the national team, he had ones with Gimnasia,” said vice- president Alejandro Ferrer. “It was a crazy mutual love, like the one at Naples.”
When Ferrer wanted to offer Maradona an extension, he pretended to be a delivery driver so he could enter the neighbourhood where Diego lived. Gimnasia’s manager told him that day he wanted to become a fully paid- up member of the club, like any other.
THE HAND OF F ATE
Maradona’s final public appearance before undergoing brain surgery came on the night of his 60th birthday, October 30, when he was handed a commemorative plaque from Argentine FA president Claudio Tapia. Diego could barely walk.
After the operation, doctor Leopoldo Luque asked him to have a check- up, and a blood clot on his brain was discovered that needed instant attention. Maradona initially declined, saying his team needed him. “If you have it, you won’t be going back to manage – you’ll be there to play!” said Luque, exaggerating. Diego would leave La Plata for the last time.
A SPECIAL CHANNEL, DIEGO CAM, JOINED THE ON- DEMAND MENU: IT FOLLOWED HIM SITTING ON THE BENCH – LATER, HIS THRONE
A week after the procedure, despite refusal from the authorities of Clinica Olivos, a fragile Maradona was released from hospital and taken to his final destination: a rented house in Tigre. With rooms up on the first floor not reachable for him by stairs, part of the living room was adapted to accommodate him. He had a chemical toilet next to his bed, and some windows were covered with furniture to avoid sunlight. When he discovered that a nurse was inside the house, he asked her to leave, only for his acquaintances, personal secretary Maximiliano Camargo and nephew Jonathan to make sure she stayed without being seen. Only they were allowed to enter the Argentine legend’s room to give him his prescribed medication.
The treatment Maradona received after leaving hospital has been under investigation in a case involving a rising number of people – seven as FFT went to press – to determine whether there was negligence.
Few of Gimnasia’s players knew what was going on. The team continued to play without Maradona in the dugout, not knowing their beloved boss was slowly losing his fight. Even without being physically present, however, Maradona was Gimnasia until his last breath. Confined in his room, he saw every match. It was one of the few things that motivated him. “We had a video call a week before [ his death] and he was speaking about coming back,” admitted captain Lucas Licht.
On the morning of November 25, a total of 11 ambulances streaked inside the gated community where Maradona lived. It was too late: his heart had stopped. Argentina’s greatest son died alone in his bed.
For hours, the country remained in silence. Then, Argentina unofficially declared the end of the coronavirus pandemic, and the world’s longest lockdown: nearly eight uninterrupted months. At that point, people no longer cared about the rules, regulations and restrictions. An idol had died.
The queue to honour Diego’s body at the government’s Casa Rosada stretched more than two and a half miles long. His former
international team- mates also returned to the spot they had visited only after their 1986 and 1990 World Cup campaigns, while team masseur Miguel Galindez even gave the fallen hero’s legs one last massage in his coffin.
The next day, after Gimnasia’s squad had visited their manager for a final salute, a mob of ultras stormed the Casa Rosada with the president and vice- president inside. Police reacted by firing rubber projectiles and tear gas. The coffin of Maradona – whose naked body had been photographed by undertakers in an infamous selfie – had to be secured in another room, as his wake abruptly ended.
Eventually, his hearse arrived at Bella Vista cemetery. There, Diego now rests alongside his parents, Tota and Don Diego. His lungs, liver and heart remained in the morgue for additional examination; no alcohol nor drugs were found, the reports concluded.
Maradona’s assistant manager at Gimnasia, Sebastian Mendez, immediately resigned. “It was impossible not to love him,” he sobbed. “He was so affectionate with everyone, you couldn’t believe it. He was like a magnet – call him an angel or whatever you want, but when he showed up, all eyes were on him. And yet he was also there thanking you for some minor thing.”
In Gimnasia’s first game after Maradona’s death, three days later against Velez Sarsfield, goalkeeper Broun dyed his hair in tribute to his former gaffer’s 1995 look; skipper Licht, meanwhile, wore the acceptable retro boots Maradona had given him. Gimnasia won 1- 0, prompting tearful celebrations from their players. The throne, adorned with his initials, was taken to the centre of the pitch, where players left roses. The weekly tribute that had started with Diego as a living legend carried on after his death.
Days later, Argentina’s government made the unofficial official: the country’s isolation period was over. While the world had been torn apart during the pandemic, so too had Maradona’s health. “The pandemic really affected him,” president Pellegrino tells FFT.
“I didn’t want to go and visit Diego, because I was thinking, ‘ What if I pass this bug on to him and then something happens?’ He would accuse us of being scared. ‘ Don’t be a wimp – come and visit,’ he’d tell us.
“When I met him again, months later in a garden, I saw the change. He’d gone from being pampered to being alone in his house; from being focused on the next game to not knowing what to do. It was difficult.”
Within a day of his death, Argentina’s FA had renamed one of their competitions the ‘ Copa Diego Maradona’ – won by his former club Boca in January – although hopes of the Copa de la Liga Profesional staying this way hit a snag over naming rights. Maradona’s old lawyer Matias Morla had snapped them up soon after his death.
For Gimnasia, life has gone on – but not in the same way. Although they kicked off the new campaign with a creditable 2- 2 draw at La Bombonera, off- field matters threaten to overshadow their progress. Still grieving, they appointed reserves manager and club legend Mariano Messera to replace Maradona, but amid fractured leadership: Pellegrino tried to resign as president in November, only for the board to decide otherwise. Vice- president Jorge Reina did depart in January, however, and others could follow. It’s the opposite of the unity Maradona demanded.
Messera has done his best to rally his troops in the meantime. “Diego is present among all of us, and the positive wave that he brought to the club is still present in the squad,” he explained. “We play for Diego, because he left the footprint of a generous, affectionate man who made everyone feel that we were lifelong friends. We know that he’s backing us from above.”
Despite the tragic ending, Maradona and Gimnasia will be hooked for eternity. He left an indelible mark on this team of perennial underdogs, restoring their pride and their belief in miracles. But Gimnasia also offered
him something invaluable. El Diego spent his final months next to a football, thinking only about the next game. His greatest fear, being neglected in his own country, vanished the day he roared to the Gimnasia crowd, “Oh, how much we’ll enjoy this together!”
And they did. But that was Diego Armando Maradona, after all: enjoyed to the very end.