From the Azteca to Sotheby’s: The $9.3 million shirt that broke sports memorabilia records and made one England footballer more than he earned in his entire career.
When Diego Maradona planted his hand in the air to celebrate his controversial goal in the 1986 World Cup quarter-final, nobody could have foreseen that the jersey he wore would one day shatter auction records. Yet, that what became exactly was in May 2022, when the shirt – marked by history, legend, and controversy – was sold for £7,142,500 (around $9.3 million), setting a new global benchmark for match-worn sports memorabilia.
On June 22, 1986, in Mexico City's foreboding Estadio Azteca, Maradona delivered two unforgettable moments in one match: the deceitful "Hand of God" goal and the awe-inspiring "Goal of the Century" just minutes later. England, reeling from political and footballing wounds from the Falklands War, found themselves on the wrong side of legend - and jerseys were swapped. Maradona traded his shirt with English midfielder Steve Hodge in a tunnel, and the jersey passed from the pitch into legend.
For decades, the shirt remained in the possession of Hodge, who displayed it at the National Football Museum for over 20 years - enabling fans to gaze upon physical history. Then, in 2022, Hodge felt the time was right to allow broader access to the shirt’s legacy through Sotheby's - and the world prepared to bid.
Sotheby’s estimated the shirt’s value at £4-6 million, conservatively placing its worth in the high realms of sports memorabilia. But as bidding began - starting at £4 million - collectors quickly escalated the price, finally landing at £7,142,500 (U$9.3 million), eclipsing Ruth's baseball jersey and breaking auction records. Brahm Wachter, Sotheby's head of streetwear and modern collectibles, called it “arguably the most coveted football shirt to ever come to auction,” and noted the “palpable excitement” surrounding it. He was, of course, right.
In the aftermath of Maradona's death in 2020, the authenticity of the shirt was challenged by his daughter, Dalma, who speculated it might be from the first half of that fateful match. Sotheby’s quelled these doubts with meticulous photomatching analysis, confirming the jersey was indeed worn during the second half – when both iconic goals were scored. A final nod to factual validation.
This wasn’t just football - it was geopolitics, national identity, and sporting theatre in one. Argentinians saw the goal as a form of symbolic payback for the Falklands War, while England saw betrayal on a global stage. That shirt, stained with sweat and wrapped in mythology, became a capsule of emotion, memory, and meaning far beyond the final whistle.
The record-breaking sale speaks to the power of artefacts that carry narrative weight. In a world where digital memorabilia surge in value, Maradona’s shirt stands as a reminder of sport's ability to transcend boundaries - where one man’s touch becomes part of collective memory. It didn’t just sell; it was immortalized.
Maradona’s “Hand of God” shirt now resides beyond the reach of public display or fan pilgrimage - likely ensconced in a private collection. Yet, its sale reminds us: some moments, encapsulated in fabric, become cultural currencies. Babe Ruth, Michael Jordan, Pele - they all gave us great moments - and some might even argue have a claim to dominating their sport in a sustained way that Maradona did not. But nothing moves the needle like nostalagia and nostalgia is fuelled by moments. In football - in sport - few have transcended the game like Maradona because of the wide-eyed moments he gave the world, particularly against EngIand in 1986. It's possible there'll never be a jersey that will match the story stitched into Maradona's 'Hand of God' shirt. One day its auction fee might even look cheap.