By the time the referee, Ernesto Filippi, took the ball out of Julio Saldaña’s hands in the 90th minute the white tunnel leading to the changing rooms was already being pulled on to the pitch. It looked like a forensic tent, set up in an attempt to preserve the evidence at a crime scene. Appropriate, perhaps, considering the CSI-style examination the game would enjoy from both Colombian and Argentinian fans through the years. The fifth of September 1993 had earned its place in South American football history.

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The dismantling of an Argentina team including Sergio Goycochea, Diego Simeone, Oscar Ruggeri and Gabriel Batistuta led an already popular Colombia team to come of age. The Argentinians were taken apart on that night in El Monumental and by one man in particular, Faustino “El Tino” Asprilla.

Before the game Diego Maradona had made his views about a supposed Argentinian superiority abundantly clear. “The Colombians have to know that Argentina is always up here,” his right hand pointing to his head, before plunging downwards to his chest, “and the Colombians down here”.

Maradona’s bravado was not completely misplaced. Champions of the Copa América in July that year and undefeated in 33 games until two weeks before the game the Argentinian team were favourites. But they needed a result against Los Cafeteros to avoid an embarrassing trip to Australia and a play-off to reach the US finals.

Alfio Basile’s team, sitting second in the table one point behind Colombia and two ahead of Paraguay, set out to get the three points. Basile opted for his tried-and-tested 4-4-2 formation, which had helped Argentina win the Copa América in 1991 and 1993, and, as the game kicked off, it seemed like an astute decision. Their robust midfield controlled the initial stages of the game, creating plenty of chances and putting the up-and-coming Colombian keeper, Óscar Córdoba, under severe pressure with Batistuta, in particular, forcing the goalkeeper into several eye-catching saves. The crowd was lapping it up, on the one hand expecting their team to take the lead, on the other cheering Maradona in the stands with booming chants of “Maradoooooooo Maradoooooo”. Maradona was loving it.

However, Francisco Maturana’s team weathered the storm and came into their own as the first half went on. Maturana, also a firm believer in fielding four midfielders in a line and two strikers up front, set up his team with an intent to attack, a risky strategy.

It was still goalless as the game drifted towards half-time. Then Carlos Valderrama, the golden-haired conductor of a disciplined midfield, picked the ball up and played Freddy Rincón into space down the right flank. The midfielder left one of the Argentinian defenders for dead before waltzing his way around Goycochea to give the away side the lead. Rincón would later add the third with a rather fortunate miscued shot, but his magnificent performance that night had earned him that little bit of luck.

Four minutes into the second half and Asprilla scored his first of the night, a thing of beauty in itself and commonly acknowledged to be the best of the bunch. A quick toe poke to control Rincón’s long-range cross, a sprint, a dummy and a strike while falling to the floor. A goal boasting all the attributes you would want in a striker: strength, wonderful technique, grace. Colombia were suddenly 2-0 up. Away to Argentina.

The Argentinian crowd were stunned, unable to comprehend what they were witnessing. Their team were being dismantled in front of their very eyes. And there was one man pulling the strings, Asprilla, a blur of yellow and blue. The Argentinians were unable to find an answer, especially in the last 20 minutes as they were desperately trying to salvage some pride.

By the time Rincón had added his fortuitous third the Albiceleste were in a mess. Rincón, who went on to play for Napoli and Real Madrid, met a cross from Leonel Álvarez and his shot bounced on to the pitch and into the far corner. Moments after that goal went in the TV cameras focused on the Colombia goalkeeper, Córdoba, who was punching the ground in a mixture of happiness and disbelief.

Two minutes later and Asprilla, for me, produced the moment of an already extraordinary evening. The Colombian midfield duo of Valderrama and Álvarez were given the Argentinians so little space that, despite being 3-0 down, they were forced back into their own half. The home midfield were looking for an easy way out and sent an ordinary back pass to the defender Jorge Borelli. Before he could get the ball under control, though, Asprilla pounced and raced towards an exposed Goycochea.

The rest of the Argentinian back four tried to catch up with the Colombian but the head start allowed him by Borelli’s muted response to the pass meant the chasing pack had no chance of catching him.

Asprilla reached the penalty area and turned his body beautifully, affording himself a crab-like side-step before curling the ball over a helpless Goycochea. This golazo de goterita as it became known (loosely translated as a leaking roof wondergoal) left the goalkeeper who had recently been named player of the tournament at the Copa América helplessly looking upwards, searching for the metaphorical leak.

The way his speedy sprint suddenly came to an almost slow-mo crawl, the way he turned his body to lift the ball over the Argentinian goalkeeper, the weight of the curl, the arc the ball took through the air, the celebratory scrum that just seemed to keep growing on the side of the pitch - these are all elements that make that goal stand out. It was a beautiful piece of skill that flattered to deceive in its simplicity.

It was the jewel of the Cafeteros’ crown on that night but remarkably it was not the last Colombian strike of the game. Adolfo Valencia, injured but still able to live up to his moniker, The Train, scored a fifth after powering through Argentina’s defence to meet an Asprilla assist.

It could actually have been worse still for Argentina. By the 88th minute, when Simeone elbowed Valencia, drawing blood in the process, it took a couple of Colombians, Luis Carlos Perea and Wilson Pérez, to plead the Argentinian’s case. “Please don’t send him off,” they allegedly told the man in black, “they’ll say we only beat them because they were down to 10 men.” The Uruguayan referee seemed to listen and according to one newspaper report told the Colombians: “You’re right, but make sure you score another goal against the sons of bitches.”

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Front cover of El Gráfico after Argentina’s 5-0 defeat to Colombia on 23 September 1993. Photograph: El Gráfico

By the end even Maradona was applauding the guests. Basile said later: “I never want to think about that match again. It was a crime against nature, a day when I wanted to dig a hole in the ground and bury myself in it” and it is fair to say that the night shaped both teams for years to come. For Argentina it led to soul-searching and the decision to bring Maradona back into the fold following a 15-month ban for drug-taking.

As for Colombia, the team was saddled with the expectation of greatness. Los Cafeteros were tipped to play a key role in the 1994 World Cup , with Pelé offering them the kiss of death by tipping them to win the whole thing.

However, this expectation transformed itself into pressure that the team was unable to handle. They failed to get past the group stage at the World Cup in 1994 and a few months later Andrés Escobar was assassinated in a parking lot in Medellin in what is without a doubt the saddest chapter in Colombian football history.

For one night in 1993, though, the Colombians looked unbeatable and worthy of every plaudit they received. Even Diego Maradona would agree with that.