On Dec. 27, 2011, Diego Simeone found it impossible to edge his imposing, jet-black BMW SUV out of the Vicente Calderon stadium. Some of the 4,000 fans who attended his introduction as manager, predictably treating the Argentinian's appointment with all the restraint and sangfroid that Shea Stadium showed for the Beatles in 1965, were blocking him and refusing to budge until they got a wave, a photo or maybe even a high-five through his driver's side window.
Adoration, devotion -- emotional incontinence doesn't cover it. They wanted to see a football saviour. They believed it was him and they told him so.