It feels like an unbearably sad day. Whatever time is left to him, George Best is not coming back from this one. He may have been a drunk, endlessly foolish, and unconscionably unkind to his family, but I defy anyone to deny that when he played he made you feel two foot taller, just because you were from Belfast, Northern Ireland or just plain Irish. I don’t want to steal anyone else’s thunder today, so I’ll just ask the other bloggers to make free with their memories, good or bad, of the wee lad from Cregagh who became one of the greatest players in the history of world football.
Mick is founding editor of Slugger. He has written papers on the impacts of the Internet on politics and the wider media and is a regular guest and speaking events across Ireland, the UK and Europe. Twitter: @MickFealty