Barbara Best - Our George: A Family Memoir of George Best

| OUR GEORGE

A Family Memoir

First published in Great Britain 2007 by Macmillan

This electronic edition published 2008 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan Ltd
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the
world www.panmacmillan.com

ISBN 978-0-230-73924-6 in Adobe Reader format
ISBN 978-0-230-73923-9 in Adobe Digital Editions format
ISBN 978-0-230-73934-5 in Microsoft Reader format
ISBN 978-0-230-73925-3 in Mobipocket format

Copyright Barbara McNarry 2007

The right of Barbara McNarry to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Index compiled by Cover to Cover

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Visit www.panmacmillan.com to read more about all our books and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters so that youre always first to hear about our new releases.

To my lovely mum who, like her much loved and missed son, left us all far too soon. I hope that, together once again, you both have found peace in each others loving embrace.

T he decision to write this book was not an easy one. In fact when it was first suggested to me, I baulked at the idea. Despite the overwhelming media attention which George attracted in his lifetime not least in his final years ours has always been an intensely private family. Indeed the first full newspaper interview I gave was only after Georges transplant, when he was back on the drink again and attracting intense criticism.

What I wanted to explain then was that behind the headlines was a real human being whose family loved and cared for him deeply. George was losing his battle with alcoholism the same disease that had blighted the life of our beloved mother. But we, his family knew just how fiercely he had struggled against that disease.

In a way this book is an extension of that interview. It is not just our familys tribute to a dearly loved son and brother but also, I hope, a book that will give some real insight into the life of the Belfast Boy who became one of sports great icons. It tells about his upbringing and the family values that shaped him and remained with him.

But it is not a book that sets out to make excuses for George. It acknowledges his faults as well as the constant pressures with which he lived.

It was our sister Carol who came up with the title for this book. Our George was always what we called our big brother to differentiate him from our uncle George who was almost the same age.

But it also sums up exactly what this book is about. It is not a book that charts the career of a footballing legend that has been comprehensively done elsewhere. Instead this one is about the boy and the man as we, his family, knew him.

This is a book, quite literally, about our George

In theory it sounded simple to write this book, but in practice it was to be such an emotional journey.

I would like to thank Lindy McDowell not just for her friendship, but for the emotional support which she has given to me over the past two years and above all for her absolute professionalism.

I believed in my heart that I had a different story to tell and it was from the heart that my thoughts and words came.

I would also like to express my sincere thanks to

Dad, who even though he has been through so much in the last two years, parted with so much important information, my brother Ian and my sisters Grace and Julie, but in particular my big sister Carol, who has supported and encouraged me every step of the way.

Mums side of the family, her brother George, her sisters Georgie and Joan and nephew Louis, who all have their own fond memories of our George.

My own children Steven, Jenny and Paul who havent had much of my time recently.

The staff of Nettlefield Primary School as well as the ex teachers from Lisnasharragh Secondary School for their invaluable contribution.

Georges long-time friend Robin McCabe who brought many laughs when they were really needed, and for his continued friendship with the family.

Edel Patterson and Joan McCoy from Castlereagh Borough Council who helped me to fill in the memory lapses in the days following Georges death.

Debi, Keith, Caron and Mphatso for their inspiring stories.

Alex and Anita, who so often arrived with tissues and broad shoulders for me to cry on.

Finally, to my husband Norman, without whose love and support I wouldnt have managed to finish this book. You knew how difficult it was for me to put my thoughts on paper, but always found the right words to encourage me to fulfil my dream.

Barbara Best McNarry
July 2007

Chapter 1

| SAYING GOODBYE

D r Akeel Alisa came into the room and stood silently for a moment beside us. As he did, two nurses, John and Yvonne, were already taking their places on either side of Georges bed. The tension was unbearable. We knew what was coming now.

Akeel dropped his head very slightly and then said softly: I am so sorry that I have to do this.

He bent over George, checked for a heartbeat and gave a barely perceptible nod to Yvonne. In a gentle voice, she explained to us that she was now switching off the machine. And with that it was finally over.

Through the utter devastation that I was feeling, the one thing that struck me most and will stay in my memory always was the silence. That damned silence. After such a long time listening to a machine breathing for my beloved brother, suddenly the room was utterly, unbearably quiet.

It was finally over.

Outside, the news would, within minutes, be relayed to the media and fans who had been keeping their own long vigil for days, in some cases, even, for weeks. George Best, the worlds greatest and most complete footballer, was dead.

He would be mourned by so many people in so many ways. By the faithful fans who remembered his genius on the football field and the glamour and excitement he brought to the Beautiful Game. By the worlds great sporting legends, many of whom would grieve at the passing of a man who, for all his faults, had been a good friend. By the media for whom his colourful personal life and long battle with alcoholism had provided countless headlines down through the years. By the women who loved him. By people all across the globe whose lives he touched even in some small, distant way.

But as I stood there, watching my brothers life ebb away, I knew that none would mourn him more than those of us gathered around his bedside. His family and friends. To the outside world, he was George Best, footballs first and greatest superstar. But to me he was my beloved GB, the brother who at the age of just fifteen had left our home and our family in Belfast.

Over the years, during the good times, the bad times and the downright terrible times my feelings for George had never wavered. Certainly at times he saddened and frustrated me. But I always cared so very deeply for him. And now I was having to say goodbye.