Now, I have to say, ordinarily, whenever there’s anything football related on TV, I’m offski. I’ll go and do something infinitely more interesting such as watching wood warp or maybe even cleaning out the kitchen cupboards and finding rice that’s been there since 1970… you get the gist; I’m not digging football at all. Imagine my surprise then when I stumbled upon Maradona: In the Hands of the Gods on BBC4 last night and actually enjoyed it!

Had it not been for the fact that – just as the programme began – my remote chose that moment to finally stop giving me warnings about needing to replace my batteries and actually died, I would’ve whizzed on past it. But die it did so while it stubbornly refused to flick channels, I sent my beloved on a hunt for a battery to two which may not have been drained by our kids’ MP3 players, and slowly but surely got sucked into the story…

This Storyville documentary told the true tale of five young British ‘freestyle footballers’ journey across the Americas to Argentina in the hope of meeting their hero, Diego Maradona. By the way, if, like me, you’ve no clue what a ‘freestyle footballer’ is, apparently it’s the equivalent of a busker, so replace your mental image of a hippy with a guitar and a hat in front of him with a lad and a football – with which he can do endless keepy-uppys – and you’ve got the gist of it.

When I read the programme’s ‘blurb’ later, it said it was, “A coming-of-age road movie about a group of young men in pursuit of a lifelong dream.”

Well, I think that billing was somewhat OTT because the fact of it is, the words “coming of age” and “road movie” tend to evoke images of romanticism and Thelma & Louise styly personal evolution or finding some kind of inner peace… arty farty pants like that.

However, this was simply a fly-on-the-wall type show about five young lads – Mike, Sami, Jeremy, Danny and Woody – who had a plan; they were going to work their way to Buenos Aires in the hope of meeting their hero, Diego Maradona.

It wasn’t mentioned on the show just how it is that a devout Christian, a gobby scouser, a failed footballer, a spoiled teenager and an asylum seeker actually got together, but I suspect rather than chance meetings or having known each other for years, they were put together by the programme makers. Kind of a Louis Walsh boy band ensemble but with balls… of the foot variety that is.

Several of them had never left Britain’s shores before, but here they were, embarking on a trip halfway around the world in the hope – since there was no ‘audience’ booked – of meeting Maradona. And ok, whatever floats your boat I suppose, but I can’t deny that it was interesting to watch the interactions between these lads – who were from just about every demographic and class group that applies to young men in this country – and see how together, and frequently apart, they strived to achieve their common goal… pun intended.

One of my favourite characters in the whole thing was, Sami, who’s the aforementioned asylum-seeker from Somalia – with an accent that wouldn’t tell you’d he’d been anywhere other than Yorkshire – and was a ‘troubled’ young man. He had a history of drug-related offenses which he regrets, so now wanted to make his mother proud of him “for half an hour.” It was very much an ‘oh bless him’ revelation.

That said, quite how meeting Maradona would cause a mother’s heart to swell with pride and fcause her to forgive and forget early teenage years that must’ve been nightmarish wasn’t entirely clear.

Anyway, the plan was to get to Argentina by hook or by crook and using whatever means were at their disposal. This primarily entailed capitalising on their quite amazing football skills and using the ‘gift of the gab’ to part folks along the way from their money.

Long story short, they arrived in New York, confused the natives with their various accents and earned a goodly few dollars to fund a drive onward to Dallas, despite the fact that none of them knew the way!

Their next stop was Mexico, and although none of them could speak a word of Spanish, it didn’t matter because by using their amazing keepy-uppy skills, they appealed to the universal language of footie fantatics, and it seems they’re everywhere…

The journey wasn’t without problems though… the lads spent the money they earned almost before it had time to pick a comfy spot in their wallets in which to reside temporarily. They fell out repeatedly and split up just as repeatedly, vowing to go it alone. Two of them went to Guatemala while the other three went back to Los Angeles, which is a very long trek from Buenos Aires.

It would’ve been interesting to know actually how the programme makers dealt with the partings of the ways; did they hire more crew to follow the two camps or did they just themselves split into two groups and tag along in these opposite directions? However, I digress…

Back to making this long – overlong actually, but that’s a minor irritation – story short, Woody and Sami got to Brazil, then travelled on to Buenos Aires. Mike made it too, and Danny and Jeremy were on their way and as they trolled relentlessly on towards Buenos Aires, the three lads who were there managed to get on local TV and told their story. Their hero Diego saw them on the news report – whether by design or coincidence wasn’t mentioned – and he took an instant liking to the determined group of oddiosities from the UK.

The ‘great man’ – but those of us who remember his hand of God routine may not think ‘great’ to be a suitable adjective – was heading off to an engagement in Peru but spared a few moments to meet the boys outside Maradona Towers where he engaged in a kick-about with them.

So what were the boys’ prizes for their long and arduous mission accomplished? Well, in addition to actually meeting Maradona and kicking a ball with him, they got signed T-shirts, a cuddle and a kiss on both cheeks. And I have to say – even though I, on behalf of Britain, still feel a certain resentment over the fact that Diego’s ‘hand of God’ knocked England out of the 1986 World Cup – his humility in the face of such idol worship was refreshing. He was extremely nice to the boys and told them it was an honour to meet them.

Woody was so thrilled after it all that real heartfelt tears coursed down his cheeks, and, because I can’t help it when I see someone else crying, they did the same down mine too!

As I said at the beginning of this piece, I thoroughly enjoyed this show and if you missed it, footie fan or not, I’d recommend you try and catch up with it on BBC iPlayer.

In the meantime, here’s a clip from the film.