Here's how little I know of football: I didn't know how the legendary match between the UK and Argentina ended, what The Hand of God was, and, when the documentary started, I wondered why they didn't interview Maradona.
I hear all your objections, believe me. I've heard them before from my father, who is a football fanatic to the core. As I said when I reviewed Saipan last September, none of this is because I think I'm above the game – far from it. I appreciate the athleticism, the artistry, and the sheer amount of work that goes into a single match between the best athletes on the planet.
But I've always viewed football in a vacuum. It is, in the end, just another sport. Today, having seen The Match – which chronicles not just the famous game that took place in 1986, but almost two hundred years of history leading up to it – I know I have to revisit that belief.
The Match allows some of the players on both teams to tell it as they experienced it. They are Gary Lineker, John Barnes, Jorge Burruchaga, Jorge Valdano, Oscar Ruggeri, Peter Shilton, Ricardo Giusti, and Julio Olarticoechea.
I didn't know any of them before seeing this film. But they all seem like charming individuals; I can see why, at one point in time, the entire world was enamored by them. The archival footage of some of their best games is breathtaking. For someone with flat feet and no coordination to speak of, watching this level of football is like watching space flight. I know, scientifically, that it's all possible, but it might as well be black magic.
The Match begins years before the Argentinian or UK teams even stepped onto the field in Mexico City, and then leaps even further back some two hundred years, just so we can have some context. It's a cheeky move, but one that sets the tone so well, I was enraptured the moment it happened.
Back then, the Falkland Islands were conquered, or claimed, or stolen, depending on who you ask. Years and years later, Argentina and the UK went to war over them. Both sides were led by bloodthirsty monsters, and both countries lost hundreds of youths, most of whom just wanted to talk about or play football.
A cynical part of me made a note that, in theory, you could tie anything to a grander scheme of things and claim it to be important. The Match doesn't try to claim that football is a panacea for all that troubles the world. But it does argue, compellingly, I might add, that it is a far healthier coping mechanism for countries that are hurting.
I was moved by how the interviewed footballers are lost in the memories they share with us. Throughout the film, there's a sense that you're hearing stories from cool relatives who you don't get to see often enough. Some are embellished, and not everyone agrees on how things went down, and some hurts still aren't fully healed. But look at how their faces light up when they see Maradona score the second goal in the titular match. No one can argue against brilliance when they see it.
It's been 40 years since that game. Today, The Match screened for some 600 people in a packed auditorium in the south of France. As the timer on the match clock ticked away, and the first goal happened, I heard the audience around me react audibly in shock and glee. As if we were watching a football tournament broadcast live.
It's history coming to life before our eyes, and a sign of great documentary filmmaking that elevates itself into something singular. Because we know the world around the game, we understand the game itself better. Football, like musicals and kung fu films, has a music and rhythm of its own.
The Match brilliantly frames this dance against the roaring tides of history and emerges as one of the best sports documentaries ever put on film.
