…in my mind, no argument… the Best ever… Georgie Best…

…last November 25th was the 11th anniversary of the death of Georgie Best… there will always be discussion, debate and deliberation on just who is/was the greatest ever footballer… I come from a bygone age in football, when the skill of ball control, we called it ‘dribbling’, was paramount in any forward’s skill set… yeez can talk about Pele, Maradona, Garrincha, Puskas et al, but for me, one man stood out above all of them… the great Georgie Best… just enjoy having a wee run-through the clip above, and yeez’ll see why I think that way… here’s a tribute I did for him a while ago, and have shared on here before:

…simply the BEST…


…it’s not just because I’m a Manchester United nut…(I was born six years later in the same street in Govan, Glasgow as Sir Alex Ferguson)…fifty years ago, as lads in the school play-grounds, and on the dirt pitches around Glasgow, we played a different sort of football from the modern stuff currently served up on the television screens every weekend…no fancy coaching…up to twenty-a-side street teams versus neighbouring street teams…a tennis ball or rubber ball no bigger than a cricket ball (whatever that was) served the purpose, until the cheaper Mouldmaster real-football-sized versions became accessible…I often wonder if the pedigree athletes swanning around on the deck every TV match I watch are capable of using the ball for more than a one-touch pass…’dribbling’ we called it back then…and tackling wasn’t a dirty word…no less so ‘shoulder-charging’, including the goalies, most of whom, by the way, could look after themselves very well physically, thank you very much…little wonder, when I worked in London (as a Scot, I told them I was there as a missionary) that I look back on the few occasions I had the chance to watch LIVE, the great Georgie Best, and realize just how good the man was…at one match at Crystal Palace (yes, they did populate the top flight at one time before now…), the pitch was doing a passable imitation of a mud-bath obstacle course …remember the balls back then were heavier beasties than the featherweight ping-pong balls they seem to smack 1,000 yards nowadays… it didn’t matter that there were ten other United players on the field that day… George swiveled and turned the whole ninety minutes …the old cliché is that with one body swerve he could send the entire crowd the wrong way… be that as it may, what I saw him do all day that day will live in my mind forever …he may have played in grander matches and scored umpteen goals, captured in reels elsewhere… amid the mud and desperate lunging tackles, he danced away every time, as if the ball was part of his toes… and we, we of a certain age, ballet-danced through the mire with him… back on the play-grounds, scoring through the piled jackets of goal posts in countless open-scrub yards in cities up and down the country… I’m a grown man, supposedly a hard product of the docklands in Govan, but the day Georgie Best died, I sobbed my guts out… the world had lost an icon… one of the finest, if not the finest, exponents of the beautiful game… his back story and struggles are well recorded and I’ll let others dwell on that… but for me, the most magical player I’ve ever seen play live… simply the Best…

Seumas Gallacher

Abu Dhabi

April 8th, 2013

…see yeez later… LUV YEEZ!



Filed under Blether, Scribbling & Stuff

10 responses to “…in my mind, no argument… the Best ever… Georgie Best…

  1. I was lucky enough to see the ‘holy trinity’ more than once. And yes, he was simply the Best!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We all have our heroes. Yours was extra special to you. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Clive

    Never got to see the great man in the flesh (due to supporting a crap Sunderland side who were never in the same division as United during his playing days).
    Agree with your sentiments about both Best and the demise of football as a contact sport. One of George’s great strengths (illustrated brilliantly in the video clip) was his ability to ride a tackle whereas your modern prima donnas go down like a bag of wet rags at the mere suggestion of physical contact. For him it was all about proving ones own prowess with ball at feet rather than the prevailing cheating/kidology of using the ref to gain advantage.
    And all this in the era of Chopper Harris, Norman Hunter, Tommy Smith et al!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. He was fantastic, Seumas. You’ve written a great tribute to him. 🙂 — Suzanne


  5. Have to add a comment about the playgrounds etc., 50/60 years ago in Scotland. In the outskirts of Glasgow (Lenzie – yes I went to the same school as Frank M), we didn’t have a rubber ball, or a tennis ball. We didn’t use a ball at all – we used a wee bit of wood, about the same size as a bar of soap. That was our ball and fair wore out the toes of our school shoes. Quote my mum “How do you manage to stub your toes so often?” It hasn’t added to the George Best discussion, it was just the one wee (lonely) thought that sprung to mind. I would add that, one day, someone brought in a ball; window smashed, end of balls in the playground (read that how you will). Cheers

    Liked by 1 person

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