George Best

No-one who was at George Best’s funeral will ever forget it. Not one member of the tens of thousands who lined the rain swept route that took his coffin from the family home on the Cregagh estate will ever forget it. And nobody who watched the coverage provided courtesy of MUTV will ever forget it.

The journey which began at a terraced house which had been turned into a shrine and ended in the splendour of Stormont said everything. For here was a funeral which managed, remarkably, to be a state occasion fit for a legend while retaining the warmth and intimacy of a family in mourning.

George Best was anxious that he should be remembered for his achievements as a footballer. He was and he always will be, as the applauding fans who tearfully watched the cortege all the way to Stormont and the football celebrities who waited there to pay their final respects amply demonstrated.

But in the funeral itself, it was the man who was celebrated. A thoughtful and generous man, whose kindness and loyalty were illustrated by his friend Bobby McAlinden, with whom he played in the States. Without George, there would have been no contract for Bobby; when they bought an apartment together, it was George who put up the money; and even after he returned to England, it was George who rang to wish Bobby Happy Birthday – something else they had in common.

There was no better indication of George’s warmth and personal magnetism than the fact that his two senior doctors spoke at his funeral. Professor Roger Williams reminded his audience that doctors were not supposed to get close to their patients but with George it was unavoidable – especially since, on his many professional engagements abroad, he became accustomed to being asked “How’s George Best?” rather than questions on his lectures on the liver. And Dr Akeel Alisa was clearly affected by the loss of the footballing genius who had become a friend.

George’s sister Barbara spoke movingly, sometimes haltingly, of the brother she adored and son Calum, whose gentleness, dignity, courage and sensitivity so vividly reflect his father, fought to maintain his composure as he read two poems – Mary Frye’s “Do not stand at my grave and weep” and “Farewell our friend”, a verse he received from a Belfast fan.

The personal nature of the poetry was echoed in the music beautifully performed by Belfast singers Brian Kennedy and Peter Corry, which included Don McLean’s ‘Vincent’, a personal favourite of George’s, and ‘Bring Him Home’ from the hit musical ‘Les Miserables’.

George Best, the Belfast Boy, had indeed come home. The legend, the icon, the genius, the superstar. But when the cortege left Stormont, accompanied only by the family and his closest friends, it was the son, the brother, the father and the friend who was remembered, all the way to the private ceremony at Roselawn cemetery, where he was duly laid to rest beside his mother Ann. Never to be forgotten.