When Lionel Messi ran to the corner and sank to his knees, the enduring image of Argentina scrambling into the World Cup's last 16 was set. The number 10, clad in the light-blue-and-white stripes of the Albiceleste, his head tilted and fingers vertical, about to be swamped moments later by adoring team-mates.
But all those cameras not positioned in Messi's corner of the Saint Petersburg Stadium quickly turned their gaze upwards and slightly to the right.
Diego Maradona, with his arms grappling his own chest, was grimacing towards the sky, a crazed look in his eyes of ecstasy, relief and delirium.
This was the duopoly of Argentina's 2-1 win over Nigeria on Tuesday.
Not Messi and Marcos Rojo, the scorer of the winning goal in the 86th minute, nor even Messi and Jorge Sampaoli, the team's estranged coach.
But Messi and Maradona. On the pitch, off the pitch, present and past. One trying to win the trophy that has eluded him in an otherwise extraordinary career, the other watching on, having had his own story defined by it.
There is no telling how the hysteria that surrounds Maradona really affects the team, whether his increasingly deranged presence is a force for inspiration, sympathy or discomfort.
But as Argentina rallied to escape Group D, one of the game's most magical players, perhaps its greatest ever icon, was in the stands, only prevented from toppling over by two of his entourage next to him.
He sat slumped in his seat, seemingly dozing off, and then later upright, frazzled with nerves, his hands clawing his face.
When Rojo's volley hit the net, the performance was completed by two raised middle fingers and a shouted obscene insult, the intended target apparently anyone that would look.
Broadcasters are expected to treat Maradona with more sensitivity during Saturday's quarter-final against France. Accompanying every meaningful action with a shot of the 57-year-old perhaps made for compelling viewing, but his health cannot be taken lightly.
After the match, video emerged of him being helped into the dining area of his VIP box, seemingly unwell. Photos showed medical staff attending to him, with one appearing to take his pulse.
Whenever the World Cup comes around, Messi is encircled by Maradona's shadow.
Thirty-two years after one Argentine great hoisted the trophy, another is expected to do the same.
"We say that if Messi does not win the World Cup, he will not be superior to Maradona," Tapia said, shortly after the Albiceleste arrived in Russia. "But I believe that these are comparisons that should be left out."
Messi has described Maradona as his "inspiration" while only this week Maradona directed a personal message to Messi, saying: "Nothing is your fault. I love you and I respect you as always."
But for the quiet, unassuming genius of Messi, this current circus of Maradona must feel more encroaching than ever, more even than when Maradona was Argentina's coach in 2010. Then they were both on the same team, each on the inside, but now Maradona is the former favourite looking in.
"The Argentine stereotype is a discreet person, who does not talk too much, and that's the big difference with Maradona. He likes to grab attention," said Alexandre Juillard, author of Insubmersible Messi. "In Argentina they have an expression, 'Pecho Frio', which means when you need to be hot, you have to be cold, and that's Maradona's problem."