Go Argentina Go!
It was a similar Sunday evening 24 years ago. A 10 year old boy’s imagination was aflutter with a miniature dream built carefully over a period of 1 month. His father’s enthusiasm had touched him and kept him awake for late hours almost every day. And that Sunday was the finale. Italia ’90 was my introduction to the world’s greatest sporting event. I had kept a track of all the matches in the colourful poster which my father had gifted me. Yes, in those days such simple stuff was very precious and I carefully noted the goals against each team right from the play-offs till the semi-finals. I had collected as many player cards that I could from wrappers of a certain confectionary company, which was quite a craze with my classmates. I was super charged the whole day. On my father’s advice, I had my dinner early and went to sleep. Around the scheduled time, he came to my room and gently woke me up. Still with groggy eyes, I gladly followed him to our drawing room and w...