When he arrived, late and surrounded by two bodyguards, he struggled to take his seat because of the commotion he had caused.
Hundreds of people stopped watching the match - Brazil against Australia - and directed their cameras towards him.
He smiled. He waved. He gave a thumbs-up. He signed autographs.
There cannot be many men whose mere presence can lead you to take your eyes off Brazil but Diego Armando Maradona, in my opinion the greatest player of all time, did just that here in the Munich Arena on Sunday night.
And yet, amid the euphoria, the moment left a bad taste in the mouth. While lesser people (officials of Fifa, the game's world governing body, and former footballers who have since toed the establishment line) occupy comfortable seats in the most desirable parts of the stadium, Maradona was consigned to a seat in the media overspill area.
Even my seat, just two rows behind Maradona, was more comfortable and better situated.
It is 12 years since Maradona was kicked out of the 1994 World Cup because he failed a drugs test. It is 20 years since he won the World Cup for Argentina with a flourish not seen before or since. It is 30 years since, as a 15-year-old boy, he made his debut as a professional footballer.
Maradona nearly died of heart complications two years ago but now he looks healthy and lean, just like a 45-year-old man is supposed to look, but with a head of hair that suggests he will never go bald.
Yet he is no ordinary man. He stops traffic. People would rather watch him sit down than watch Ronaldinho, the world's best of this century, play football for Brazil.
If a man can arouse this much love and attention, if a man needs two bodyguards because everybody wants to touch him, does he not deserve the treatment of a president or a head of state? Does he not deserve a seat in the stadium that befits a man of his status?
Some people transcend time and place. Maradona reached his peak in 1986 - is it really 20 years ago? - but he has become a sporting and social icon. It is not only the supporters of Argentina who carry images of Maradona on their shirts. In a recent opinion poll, Maradona was revealed as the most popular foreigner in Africa.
Fitting, then, that the the Argentina team of 2006 is the best since 1986. Fitting, too, that Argentina have, in Juan Roman Riquelme, a player around which a World Cupwinning team can be built. He is a play-maker, if not in the Maradona mould - who can be that? - then certainly in the Ronaldinho mould.
But, whereas Ronaldinho has failed to light up this World Cup so far, Riquelme has been the best player of the opening ten days.
His performance when Argentina defeated Serbia and Montenegro 6-0 in Gelsenkirchen last Friday was the perhaps the best by an individual in a World Cup match since Maradona destroyed Belgium in the 1986 semi-finals. If Argentina were the orchestra last week, Riquelme was their conductor.
In some ways, he is a throw-back to a time, in the Fifties and Sixties, when South Americans played with their hearts and not their heads. He is spontaneous, which makes him difficult to mark, but easy to watch. He and Argentina have been so good that even England supporters are eulogising the 2006 team as potential champions.
Those of us inside the AufSchalke stadium in Gelsenkirchen last Friday gasped in awe after a succession of 24 passes ended with a goal by Esteban Cambiasso. It put Argentina 2-0 ahead against Serbia and Montenegro and, if they do win this World Cup, it could become the defining moment of this competition; the goal that will be repeated on television replays over and over again.
Riquelme was born during a period of joy in Buenos Aires: 24 June, 1978 - just a day before the national team won the World Cup, on home soil, for the first time. Maradona was 17 then, still nursing emotional wounds after being left out of the Argentina squad.
But whereas Maradona was a superstar when still a teen-ager, Riquelme has taken time to become world class. He still does not catch the eye like Ronaldinho, but he does what the Brazilian cannot do: he dictates the pace of play and sets the tempo for a match.
Riquelme is famous in London for missing a penalty for Villareal against Arsenal in the European Cup semi-final in April, an error that allowed Arsenal to move into the final against Barcelona in Paris.
Maradona missed penalties, too, most notably in Italia 90 when Argentina scraped through against Yugoslavia in the quarter-finals. But that was an ugly Argentine team - Maradona's presence notwithstanding - and one that did not deserve to reach the final.
This one is a beautiful Argentine team; full of players with style, panache and, surprisingly, full of players with good attitude and commitment. Riquelme is their most important player, Maradona their most famous fan.
Perhaps if Argentina reach the final in Berlin on July 9, as they surely must, Fifa will provide Maradona with an appropriate seat to witness the proceedings. If I had my way, I would put him on the pitch alongside Riquelme. Now, there is a thought to make the heart beat faster.
