There is only one man in the history of football who has achieved what Diego Maradona craves from the weeks ahead in South Africa. Franz Beckenbauer is the sole World Cup-winning captain who went on to lead his country to the game's summit as a coach. The urbane German wrote a unique blueprint. Maradona strikes an unlikely figure to follow in his footsteps. In terms of temperament, philosophy and public perception, the Argentinian maverick comes from another planet.

One is pragmatic and refined; the other strikingly volatile and unpredictable. One never puts a foot, or a word, wrong. The other made headlines during this World Cup's preparations for having a fight with his own dog and ending up in hospital, pledging to run naked around El Obelisco in the centre of Buenos Aires if Argentina return triumphant, and running over a reporter en route to a press conference to name his final squad – promptly leaning out of the window to shout at the injured man: "What an arsehole you are!"

Those who knew him in more innocent days still wonder about Maradona's cranked-up personality. As a youngster he was regarded as humble, accommodating, keen to listen to people and an all-round wonderful kid. It was as if a switch flicked when he entered the hothouse of Serie A, became the adored prince of Napoli, and developed an intense relationship with drugs. Maradona will turn 50 in October, and the second half of his life to date, with its series of barely believable dramas, has been played out by a character for whom the words humble and accommodating seem alien.

Rewinding to the autumn of 2008, it remains an extraordinary decision for the Argentinian Football Association to have appointed him in the first place. His track record in management amounted to a spell in charge of Mandiyú de Corrientes, and a brief encounter with Racing Club, neither of which was successful. When the national team job came up, Maradona put his name forward. The football cognoscenti had their doubts. The will of the people of Argentina, who revere Maradona, turned out to be irresistible.

He is, unquestionably, the most idiosyncratic of all 32 coaches who will be guiding their squads through this World Cup. The fusion of talent and heritage means Argentina are always worthy of attention. But the inclusion of Maradona as technical as well as spiritual leader demands absolute scrutiny. Do not turn away for a moment. You have no idea what fireworks you might miss.

The Maradona factor is the principal reason why Argentina lag slightly behind the super-favourites for this competition. A glance around Europe's major leagues (Lionel Messi ruled La Liga once again, Diego Milito is man of the moment in Serie A, Lucho González made the difference in France … it is not difficult to go on and on) gives ample evidence that their pool of talent is as promising as any around. "Player for player there is no better national team than ours," reckons the peerless Messi.

The big problem, comparing Argentina with the most fancied of the contenders, is that Spain and Brazil arrive with able squads backed by solid and methodical men in the dugout. (Brazil's Carlos Dunga, incidentally, also has one eye on emulating Beckenbauer's achievement, having lifted the golden trophy in 1994.)

Never before has a World Cup been won with a weak link in the dugout. In a coaching Venn diagram linking Maradona with Marcello Lippi, who masterminded Italy's success at the last finals with exceptional shrewdness and unswerving focus, perhaps the only area of crossover is the fact neither man has much tolerance for the media.

Maradona's stewardship are too numerous, the sense of trust too disjointed. So accustomed have Argentina's fans become to Maradona's impulsive choices and puzzling formations, with 108 players juggled so far in little more than 18 months, it was no great surprise when his final squad contained some unusual names. That does not make his decision to omit two of the stellar performers from Inter's treble-winning side – Javier Zanetti and Esteban Cambiasso, who have almost 200 caps between them – any easier to comprehend, though.

Of the lesser lights who made the plane instead, Ariel Garcé has become symbolic of Maradona's unconventional approach. The story sounds apocryphal, but it has been reported that the defender who helped Colón finish 14th in the Argentinian league was included because Maradona had a dream that his team won the World Cup and the only face he could remember being there was Garcé's. The 30-year-old has only four caps. Three came during friendlies in 2003, and one came this year against Haiti. Most supporters do not take his inclusion particularly seriously. At Argentina's farewell match at home to Canada a banner was unfurled: "Garcé, bring us some alfajores." Traditionally, Argentinians bring alfajores, caramel-filled biscuits, back from their holidays to give to friends.

Garcé had in fact bought tickets to catch some World Cup games as he intended to take a holiday in South Africa anyway. "I don't care what they say," he said. "I'm going to the World Cup and nobody can take this happiness away from me."

Some people speculate that Maradona's emotional decisions are a little more calculating than merely the work of an eccentric man. He does not want strong, dissenting voices around him, which perhaps explains why some of the more experienced men have been left behind (and others, such as Juan Román Riquelme and his own mentor, Carlos Bilardo, have been alienated).

Then there is the curious case of Messi, who seldom looks at his happiest and most liberated in the albiceleste shirt of his country. Does Maradona know how to use him, how the team should best function around him? Or does it suit Maradona that Messi has not been as successful for Argentina as he has for Barcelona because deep down his ego struggles with the idea that his position as the crème de la crème has a credible challenger?

"The truth is that Maradona has always been very nice to me," said Messi recently. "At first, it was strange to have him: he was a little imposing. But afterwards, we started getting used to him and he's been our coach for a while, so now it's normal. He's really close to the players. He's one of the guys, so there's no problem."

We will soon find out whether that is enough to guide a group with such bountiful natural ability to the promised land.