George Best, as I write, is in intensive care. There are medical bulletins about his condition and reference to who is present at his bedside, what his condition is - almost everything up to what brand of toilet paper he used just before scoring a winning goal against some team or other.
Please don't get me wrong. I feel for George because I know about his condition. But I feel also for all those people who are suffering and dying and who are anonymous. They didn't score goals. They didn't womanise. They didn't wreck their bodies with alcohol or other substances. They just got ill. They are just dying. Nobody knows and only a few (or none) care. George Best was a footballing phenomenon. Belfast-born, like myself, and in the right place at the right time to gain fame and fortune (unlike me). I, like George, would not have been able to handle the fame and fortune and would probably have gone just the same way as him and suffered from my own self-abuse. I am thankful that I never had the chance of fame - or I would be another George Best. My sympathies and prayers go to George and those close to him. My prayers go also to the un-named and unsung people who suffer a similar fate through no fault of their own.
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