cynicalbastard

I’m sorry, but I can’t get upset about the death of George Best (well, beyond the Donne ‘any man’s death’ notion). We’ve been watching obits for days, explaining his importance, suggesting he’s the nearest thing the UK has to Joe DiMaggio.

And yet, I can’t help feeling it’s one of those massive media hypes where most ordinary people will shrug, say, ‘I remember him’, and carry on. Manchester at five this afternoon was not exactly full of weeping United fans. I know being an Irishman there’s probably going to be a few Jamesons sunk tonight and a few tears, but there are in Irish pubs every weekend (he says in broad brush stereotype).

I’m in my late thirties, and only saw him play in his Fulham days. Subsequently I only know him as a yellow (and sometimes bright yellow) pundit on Murdo-vision. I heard someone honestly tell the cameras earlier that he was a ‘brilliant analyst’. No he wasn’t! Most of the time he could barely string three sentences together. And off screen he was more renowned as a drunk and someone whose wife put up with more than her fair share of abuse.

To someone younger than me, what would he really mean? Man Utd have had bigger heroes since (if Cantona died, then you’d see some tears), and the footage of his wonderful tricks is frankly over-shadowed by yer average Premisershits import every weekend. He certainly didn’t have the cultural importance of DiMaggio (and Alex was no Marilyn).

So why the fuss? Well, the meejah is run by people just a little older than me. People brought up being told by their Dads how important Bestie was, how talented he was. And they believed it all. So all this coverage is a way of saying ‘my Dad knew what he was talking about’.