Diego Maradona is Truly Naples Personified

A desperation to celebrate consumed Naples like a chokehold, in the lead up to Napoli's first Scudetto since 1991. I found myself in the same hold. The City's thriving spirit took control of my weekend trip and I wanted nothing more than to fast-forward the clock and burst into a blue sea of celebration. The flag of Gli Azzuri swung from every window. Huddles of men painted murals on the cobbled streets, and Napoli began plastering the City with it's most beloved face. A city that breathes football, does so for one past player.

A speck of Argentinian gold-dust arrived to Italy's west coast in 1984. He was presented in front of 70,000. A moment of the past that feels like the present day in the heart of Naples. Two league titles and a hefty drug ban later, we find ourselves in 1991, the end of Maradona's reign. The famous 10 never felt as famous in any colour other than blue. No player to wear the shirt has been eternalised in it like Diego was. For Neapolitans, he represented everything the city stood for. He was a symbol for hope and pride.

As I approached his square, draped and embraced in memories and adoration, I couldn't help but feel a certain way. His face was unmissable. The murals were metres tall and towered over all who walked through. A footballer from Argentina, loved in Italy as if he was Italian himself. The richness of the interwined relationship between the two is not complex. It is simple and yet, it is unexplainable. The way the people of Naples feel about Maradona is unexplainable, but the feeling is inescapable. You can't help but love the spirit of Napoli. Regardless of what football club rules your heart; Napoli has a little piece of it.

They say you die twice. Once when you take your last breath, and again when someone speaks of you for the last time. But Maradona is eternal. Perfectly stained on the City walls forever. His number stil rules the back of football shirts, his face belongs to the canvases in the square, and the stadium has his name. The man who returned the Scudetto to Naples. Later that year, a mere few months after my trip, the Scudetto returned to Naples once again, after thirty years, and it honoured the memory of the greatest player to ever wear the shirt.