Best, family hero... by his sister

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Best, family hero... by his sister

By Sheena Hastings

Long after Best had ceased to play football he was still loved by millions despite his human flaws. His sister Barbara talks to Sheena Hastings.

IT'S well documented that Best's last words in public, during an interview with Rodney Marsh, were: "When I'm gone, if one person remembers me for the football that'll be enough."According to "Bestie's" younger sister, Barbara, what sounds like undue modesty – the kind that can often mask true arrogance – was genuine, and utterly typical of . He was known in the family as "Our " because he had an Uncle , who was a bit younger than him and often knocked around with his sister's football-mad eldest son. Best's life as a footballer, celebrity, Lothario, notorious alcoholic and man who finally lost the fight against his demons two years ago, has probably had more words written about it than that of any British sportsman. You have to wonder how much can possibly be left to write – or really be worth reading.But, according to Barbara, the time seemed to be right for someone from 's famously private family to air their angle on things. As a clan, the Bests – Annie and Dickie, and 's five siblings – were shyly protective during the 40 years they rode the rollercoaster of Best's upward trajectory, superstardom, frequent tumbles from grace and tragic demise from booze-related illness despite a successful liver transplant."Maybe it's the moment to show what a difficult time we as a family went through," says Barbara. "We avoided the press and never retaliated against some of the terrible things that were said over the years."While we agreed it might be a good time to do it, the book (Our – A Family Memoir) is not about malice, getting back at people for old wrongs – although there were many people who, over and over again, were so quick to knock down further when he was already low."At times he was made out to be a monster, when it was the drink that was the monster. I'm not making excuses for him and some of the things he did, but if had not been who he was, with all the pressure and stresses, who knows if he'd ever have become an alcoholic."After young Georgie and a friend were spotted by a Manchester United talent scout, they travelled to England in pursuit of their dream, but returned home within a couple of days, saying they were homesick. "I was thrilled that he was back," says Barbara. "The house had felt so empty without him." Shortly afterwards, thought the better of his decision and went back to Manchester, where he boarded with a kindly landlady and got on with proving himself as an apprentice at MattBusby's United.The skinny kid who had dribbled a tennis ball back and forth to school through the streets of East Belfast, was very soon making fools of the opposition and scoring sensational goals. He retained his slim build, but also grew into a spectacularly handsome young man, who gathered gaggles of swooning girls around him wherever he went.When he started to earn good money, the dark wunderkind of Old Trafford began to enjoy bars, clubs, restaurants and the fast cars. He was British football's first true superstar.He became known as The Fifth Beatle, and was rarely seen without a beauty queen or model on his arm. By the early 70s he was boozing hard, quarrelling with the bosses, and squandering his talent in the manner of one who believed he had inexhaustible reserves of genius.Not even Sir Matt, the man he revered most after his father Dickie, could make him see reason when he was hell-bent on a bender.For his family, who saw little of after the first few years at United, living with the legend was far from easy – even at a distance. His beloved mother, Annie, who had perhaps felt 's absence most keenly, and whom he resembled most – began to show the strain more than anyone.At first the press had flocked to the door with positive stories about scoring goals and winning trophies. As the years wore on and 's lifestyle descended into bouts of boozing, womanising and gambling, Annie and Dickie would learn of their son's antics via the front pages. However supportive they were of , he didn't exactly call home much to try and mitigate the damage.At the age of around 44, the previously abstemious, houseproud, sweet-natured and loving Annie began to drink. Soon she was tippling sherry at 9am, often drinking all day, and shouting abuse at her younger children, who never really knew her sober. By her 56th birthday she was dead from a third heart attack, her condition definitely exacerbated by alcoholism.With remorseless candour, Barbara describes the children's perspective on their mother's addiction: "Carol and I remember what it was like coming home...We would peek in through the window, and if she was sitting in her chair that was bad news, as it meant that she had been drinking... If you opened the door and there was no smell of food, you knew it was really bad; she'd been drinking all day."During these crises, his sisters would call to come home. He promised he would, but never did. With hindsight, they know he was probably too busy battling his own alcoholism.Barbara Best says that neither nor Annie ever blamed their alcoholism on the pressure of the footballer's career choices and misadventures, although the stresses probably did claim some part in driving them to drink in the first place., the perennially shy lad, said he felt more confident when drinking – but not every shy boy who boosts his confidence with a few pints becomes an alcoholic, says Barbara. "Our belief is that there is a genetic link, that our mother, , and our younger sister , who continues bravely to battle the disease, all shared the same gene that left them vulnerable to this most terrible addiction."For many years, Barbara and lost touch. After living in South Africa for some years, divorcing, and marrying her second husband Norman, Barbara was persuaded by Norman to rekindle her relationship with her brother."I often think of the 'if onlys' – if only I had stayed in touch with him and all that. But in the last 20 years of his life we made up for it, and had a trusting relationship. We were among the few people who were not looking for something from . We were happy to just to see him when we could and enjoy his company. I miss his wonderful sense of humour most."During one quiet chat, suddenly confided to Barbara that apart from the son, Callum, he had with his first wife Angie, he also had a daughter, born in 1969 to the woman whom he did not name but called "the one true love of my life".This had been the subject of rumour and speculation for years. told Barbara that he and the woman concerned had broken up, and she asked him not to get in touch, letting her and the baby live their life privately."It was so rare for to speak about himself and his deepest feelings, but he was clearly very saddened that he never saw her," says Barbara. "I was keen not to interrupt him with questions, and knew he would only tell me whatever he was ready to say. We as a family would never go and find her because of 's promise. But maybe she will come and find us one day..."In the last two years of his life, had a liver transplant, stayed off the drink for almost a year, then fell off the wagon spectacularly. He managed another 75 days "dry" before succumbing again. Barbara says he acknowledged he was an alcoholic but did not confide in anyone about his struggle."I don't know if he felt guilty about drinking again, but would be surprised if he didn't, as he was so very grateful that he'd been given the liver." made Barbara his sole beneficiary, but, as she says, "his estate is proving as complicated as his life was, so no, it's not settled yet." Since 's death she and Norman have been busy also with The Best Foundation, raising money for the twin causes of liver disease research and promoting football as an alternative to drink, drugs and antisocial behaviour among young people. and Barbara's dad, Dickie, is now 88, and still spends much of his time chatting at the garden gate with Best fans, who come from near and far to see the family home of the sport's most mercurially brilliant star."Dad is an incredible man. He has time for everyone that comes, and will go out to chat to all of them. He is kind and humble – and our was so like him, right to the end."For information on The Best Foundation go to: www.georgebest.com

Our – A Family Memoir of Best by Barbara Best with Lindy McDowell is published by Macmillan. To order a copy from the Yorkshire Post Bookshop for £18.99, plus £2.75 post and packing, call 0800 0153232 or visit www.yorkshirepostbookshop.co.uk

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Last Updated: 13 December 2007 11:41 AM

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