KEY POINTS:
Diego Maradona as manager of Argentina. What next - Pol Pot in charge of an orphanage? Hansie Cronje as head of the fraud squad? John Hopoate as a proctologist?
Quite what possessed Argentina to name this odious little man as manager defies belief - as did the rapturous media reception the midget pirate received when he arrived in Scotland at the helm of Argentina's beloved football team.
Faced with the inevitable question about his infamous 'Hand of God' goal against England in the World Cup quarter-final of 1986, Maradona shot back that England shouldn't talk as they had been awarded a goal in the famous 1966 World Cup final that stopped short of the line "so they should not judge me".
Oh, really? Hmmm, let's see.
No one in the England team was filmed, leaping high off the ground, touching the ball into the net with a hand and then gathering his team-mates in a clinch to further con the referee that a goal had been scored. Argentina won 2-1 that day so Maradona's 'goal' was crucial.
Later he said that the goal was "a little bit the head of Maradona and a little bit the hand of God".
No one in England's 1966 team was feted like a champion for hoodwinking the referee and touch judges and for forever staining an undeniable talent with this one, unforgettable, blatant and career-defining act of cheating.
Somehow Maradona has become some kind of hero; a role model; over this - some sort of footballing latter-day Robin Hood. The arrogance, unrepentant stubbornness and assumption of God being by his side remain. Asked about former England defender Terry Butcher's refusal to shake his hand (he is assistant manager for Scotland these days and was one of those defending during Maradona's manual
mugging), Maradona trotted out the 'England are cheats too' line.
Maradona is plainly a devotee of the Winston Peters/Rob Muldoon line of bluster and bravado - keep denying it; when blamed, blame others; and keep saying the same thing over and over and enough people will believe you to sustain you.
Let's get the qualifications out of the way. Yes, none of us lead perfect lives. Yes, Maradona was a rare talent, perhaps even the most talented there has ever been except, arguably, for George Best. Yes, Butcher looks a bit silly complaining now because he was one of five English defenders that Maradona severely embarrassed to score his second goal in that match - a wonderful, exhilarating, mazy run which
many say led to the goal of the century. He beat Butcher twice on this run, with the latter doing a fine impersonation of a flagpole.
But let's also be clear about two things: First, Maradona's goal remains one of the worst examples of cheating in any sport. The fact that it was allowed to stand by an impotent game with complacent administration is still one of the greatest injustices in a sport that will not permit technology to right wrongs and which thus seems to celebrate wrongdoing.
Second: Maradona and others are amazed that, 22 years on, the English (and others) are still affronted by his cheating. Even the simpering UK press corps who wrote so smarmily about how clever the little man was to turn a tough question into another sharp stick to poke the English with, missed the point.
As do the legions of tired apologists who somehow can't see the inherent principle of fairness and sportsmanship which is still compromised, 22 years on, by Maradona's cheating. Move on, they say, it's been 20 years...
Move on? What a sop; a saying beloved of those with the attention span of a carrot; the refrain of the cartoon generation or those bored by matters of principle and wonder only where their next beer or piece of fun is coming from.
Some things are worth remembering, lingering on and debating, so they do not recur.
Maradona's shame could easily repeat itself - another cheat, another world stage, another referee conned and it would be, as Yogi Berra famously said, "deja vu all over again."
In any self-respecting sport, Maradona would have been punished for defiling the game's highest stage. Let's leave aside his cocaine addiction, his use of performance-enhancing drugs, his alcohol abuse, his grotesque obesity during which it looked like he had swallowed a Volkswagen. In the same year as 'Hand of God', the illegitimate son was born whose existence Maradona initially denied and whom he
only met when his son, also Diego, conned his way onto a golf course where his father was playing.
Maradona has also shot at reporters with an air rifle.
So he's a real charmer, then. He is manager of Argentina because they have fallen on comparatively hard times and figure that an icon like Maradona will lift things.
They probably will, for a start. But then the flawed, desperate, excessive personality that is Diego Armando Maradona will take over and it will all end in tears.
Maybe then they will do what they should have done in 1986, lead Maradona out the back and turn him into chinculines - the famed Argentinian barbecue item which is the lower intestine of a cow filled with sausage.
Because what Maradona did truly belongs in the bowels of football's history and should not have been rewarded with custodianship of one of the world's top teams.