It was not the Hand of God but the boot of Maxi Rodriguez that did for Scotland. The worst fears were allayed on a dreary Glasgow night: George Burley's side escaped an unsightly beating, and even blossomed in illustrious company, while an impressive 32,492 ventured out, predominantly to witness Diego Maradona's return to Hampden Park nearly 30 years after he first had the Tartan Army in his thrall.
For the majority of the audience, this was a privilege rather than an education. It is doubtful if Burley will have gleaned any extraordinary findings from the experience with regard to Scotland's next World Cup qualification match, against the Netherlands in Amsterdam in four months.
There were a few mini triumphs for the manager, such as Kris Commons' ability to belie his status as an unheralded figure from unfashionable Derby County in the Coca-Cola Championship. The diminutive winger typifies Burley's coaching convictions and attention to detail.
Commons continued to enhance his reputation with another zesty performance against the experienced and eccentric Javier Zanetti, of Inter Milan. He did so in partnership with Kirk Broadfoot, whose adaptability might prove valuable given the dearth of serious options at left-back.
Alan Hutton, who displaced Broadfoot from the opposite flank, was engaged in an enthralling scrap with the pony-tailed Jonas Gutierrez on his international return. The Tottenham Hotspur full-back demonstrated in spurts the dynamism that makes him one of Scotland's greatest attacking outlets, if not quite the most diligent defender.
Barry Ferguson was another debutant of the Burley era. The captain, whose return from ankle surgery at Rangers was expedited by Kevin Thomson's cruciate damage, was unable to exert his usual authority; not unexpected given his incomplete recovery from the third serious injury of his career. He was replaced after an hour by the eager and energetic presence of Scott Robertson, the young Dundee United midfielder.
Allan McGregor performed assuredly in place of Craig Gordon despite a season of domestic distraction and Chris Iwelumo was given an instant opportunity to recover from his career-threatening miss against Norway.
The Wolves striker did not look like a man encumbered by past felony in his 45-minute run-out before being replaced by Lee Miller. The Aberdeen striker came within a whisker of heading a second-half equaliser.
Argentina kept their end of the elaborate and profitable deal. Carlos Tevez was a compellingly unpredictable figure up front. His showmanship bordered on the theatrical, not least when he rolled half the length of the field after a mild challenge by Gary Caldwell's uncompromising standards.
Rodriguez and Gutierrez sprinkled some magic dust on proceedings and Javier Mascherano kept effortless control over the economical recycling process in midfield.
The influence of Maradona on a beleaguered Argentine national team was seen before he had even disembarked the team bus. He stood up to address his charges and, just as in his playing days, decided that actions spoke louder than words. He banged the window, then punched the roof, as a captivated audience burst into song. The second coming of El Diego had begun.
He strode into Hampden, chest puffed out, the master of Mount Florida once again. A squad of pumped-up Argentines falling in line behind this squat, strutting Pied Piper did not bode well for a depleted Scotland. They would be uplifted by a creditable turnout and a commendable collective shift.
Amy MacDonald did her best to bring kudos to Flower of Scotland and after a moment's silence for Ian McColl, the former Scotland manager, this box-office bounce match began with an agreeable tempo and tension.
Argentina wasted little time in creating a positive first impression on their new head coach, who looked on intently from the technical area, a diamond earring twinkling on each lobe.
Martin Demichelis, a D'Artagnan presence at the heart of the visiting defence, had the first chance in a veritable pot pourri of penalty-box shenanigans. He headed forcefully, but inaccurately, from Ezequiel Lavezzi's corner.
Bizarrely, it elicited the first chorus of Maradona worship: from the Tartan Army. "He put his left hand in, he put England out . . ." they sang in a revised version of the Hokey Cokey.
Rodriguez was first to tantalise his new boss. The Atletico Madrid midfielder chested the ball under intense pressure from Stephen McManus, played keepy-uppy for three repetitions and pinged possession to Mascherano, whose volley was palmed away by McGregor.
The goalkeeper could not repel another scintillating surge moments later. Tevez darted in from the right, cut back to Gutierrez and the midfielder slide invitingly for the on-rushing Rodriguez to convert. The great man was off and running.
He received a rousing reception when he ventured to the extremities of his technical area. Maradona has already learned the managerial sign language, judging by the index finger to the temple delivered to an excitable Zanetti amid the din.
The problem with glamour friendlies can be the early realisation of inferiority. Scotland refused to become subservient to their technical superiors. Instead, Commons flourished in tandem with Broadfoot, throwing in a range of inviting crosses. From one such, James McFadden turned and shot in one fluid movement only to be denied by Demichelis.
The contest petered out amid a flurry of pre-arranged substitutions. By then, the fans - and the worldwide media - had got what they came for. Haste ye back, Diego.
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