‘I witnessed Maradona’s Hand of God’ – a goal still being talked about 40 years on

After the game ended with the now famous 2-1 Argentinian victory, my mother and I left the stadium and walked towards our car.

At that moment, what stayed with me wasn’t the match but the overwhelming feeling of having been inside the Azteca itself – this vast, iconic place that carried so much of Mexico’s history within its walls. It wasn’t just a stadium; it was part of our collective memory.

Even then, the echoes of the 1985 earthquake, when whole sections of Mexico City were reduced to rubble, were still vivid for me – the weeks when the air smelled of dust and loss, and the city seemed to hold its breath. I knew that the Azteca had been one of the great places of refuge, where families who had lost everything found shelter and hope. Being there felt deeply moving, almost solemn, and yet outside it transformed into something joyful and alive.

As my mum and I walked, talking and eating tacos and fruit drenched in chilli and lime from street vendors, we felt immense pride in being Mexican. We laughed about how we embraced every stereotype – the sombreros, bright colours, all of it worn with humour and defiance, and how, as hosts, we gave warmth, laughter and generosity to the world.

Even the World Cup mascot, a chilli pepper with a sombrero, seemed to capture that spirit perfectly – bold, playful, and unmistakably ours.