George Best: Hibs' flawed genius

Pop band Blondie were in town. Debbie Harry, the blonde bombshell singer and one of the most photographed women of her era, was finding out why George Best had reaped a reputation for scoring both on and off the pitch.

Football's first superstar player, by then 33 and already being slowly consumed by perhaps his greatest love affair – with alcohol – was living up to his reputation as soccer's ultimate bad boy.

And Hibs fans, who'd embraced the Irishman's arrival at Easter Road with a fervour and enthusiasm which could only ever exceed their ageing hero's on-pitch performances, were about to discover why George Best was the superstar their club's manager didn't really want . . .

"It was a Saturday night and Scotland had been playing France at the rugby that day," remembers Best's Hibs teammate at the time, Jackie McNamara Snr.

"There was a famous French player at the time, Jean-Pierre Rives, who wanted to meet George, and the two of them got drinking. Blondie were in town, and Debbie Harry and George ended up drinking champagne.

"Trouble was, we had a game against Ayr United the next day. It goes without saying that George didn't turn up," he recalls.

"Not much of a choice really – hang out with Debbie Harry or play Ayr United? I reckon most of us would have done what George did . . ."

The incident has gone down in history as one of Best's most infamous off-the-pitch hiccups during a bizarre period when, for a few remarkable months 30 years ago, one of the world's football legends became a Hibee.

The club were in the doldrums when Best astonished the sporting world by putting pen to paper and signing for the Edinburgh club on 16 November, 1979.

He was already battling the bottle but club chairman Tom Hart, inspired by a tip-off from the late Edinburgh Evening News sports writer Stewart Brown, saw in Best both the potential skill to revive his failing side's fortunes and the star quality to pacify griping fans.

It was a breathtaking move, one that left not only the fans reeling, but his fellow professionals, too.

The wayward star's arrival at Easter Road was also just as much of a shock to club manager at the time, Eddie Turnbull.

"I knew absolutely nothing about it. The deal was done behind my back," he declared in his autobiography, Having a Ball.

"He had secured a promise from Hart that he would play in every game possible – the man who actually picked the team, ie myself, was not even consulted about his contract with George."

And while Turnbull certainly admired the youthful Best's unquestionable genius, the 33-year-old unreliable boozer he found himself with – his dancing pale blue eyes even then tinged with the tell-tale yellow hue of the alcoholic – was far from the key to avoiding relegation.

"He was overweight, unfit and frankly not ready to play professional football at a high level," he recalled.

Nevertheless, the morning of 24 November 1979 saw a green and white exodus from Leith to Paisley as busloads of excited Hibbees made their way to St Mirren to see the former Manchester United legend turn out for their side.

Best had put pen to paper in return for a 50,000-plus transfer fee and the promise of 2,000 per game, and the normal crowd of around 5,000 expected at a Premier Division match between the clubs was about to swell to an astonishing 20,000-plus. The game ended in a Hibs defeat, but even that couldn't quell the supporters' enthusiasm for their new signing.

The same crowd turned out the following week when Best made his home debut at Easter Road against Partick Thistle – this time to celebrate a 2-1 win.

"Bertie Auld was Thistle's manager at the time," remembers entertainer and Hibs fan, Bill Barclay. "He used to smoke these great big cigars, and when the teams came out he started to throw these little Tom Thumb cigars into the crowd in celebration at Best being there. There was a real party atmosphere."

Less of a party atmosphere, however, was initially found in the Hibs dressing room, as Best's bumper salary left a few of his colleagues smarting.

Yet they, too, would soon fall under Best's spell, as his tales of spending nights in London partying with the likes of Rod Stewart, Britt Eckland, John Lennon and Michael Caine – along with his ready supply of the latest expensive after shaves and body sprays generously dished out to grateful colleagues – won them over.

Certainly Jackie McNamara quickly became a fan. "He was a lovely, lovely human being," he remembers.

"OK, him coming on that salary caused a bit of resentment among some – I was making 120 a week with a wife and three boys to support, he was on 2,000 a game – but we soon realised his salary was covered by the boost in the crowd.

"But he was no 'Billy Big Time'. He came out and had a pint with us all and he was a genuinely nice human being.

"The problem was George couldn't move in Edinburgh, he couldn't go anywhere but people were on top of him," he adds.

The Jinglin' Geordie in Fleshmarket Close became the star's local on the few days when he wasn't enjoying the brighter lights of London – Best would jet in and out of Edinburgh for matches, mostly training in London with Fulham.

"There's a famous picture of him at the Jinglin' Geordie surrounded by glasses," says Jackie. "It looks bad, but actually we were all there. We were cut out of the photo, so there's all these glasses lying around so it looks like they are all his."

Rival fans did their best to exploit Best's Achilles Heel only to find themselves also hooked by Best's charm. Such as the time Rangers supporters descended on Easter Road and began taunting the star by throwing cans of beer at him.

Instead of reacting, Best responded with a grin, picked up a can, pretended to take a sip then gently laid it down by the touchline, earning applause from the Gers' fans.

Best might have charmed the crowds – and a few Edinburgh girls in the process – but the lure of the bottle would eventually spell the end of his time at Hibs.

Club coach at the time, John Fraser, now 72, remembers the notorious incident which spelled the beginning of the end of Best's love affair with Hibs.

"He was staying at the North British Hotel – now the Balmoral," he recalls.

"George had been up half the night celebrating with the rugby guys and one of the lads working in the hotel called Mr Hart to say George was misbehaving.

"Myself and John Lambie (a fellow Hibs coach at the time] went up to find out what was going on.

"It was around midday and George was still lying in bed, suffering from the night before."

The pair battled to revive the near comatose Best to no avail and he slept off his boozy session while his teammates were greeted to boos from disgruntled fans who'd turned out in droves to see the superstar.

"When Best was sober he was no problem at all, likeable enough and very popular, but Jekyll and Hyde when he had a drink," he adds. "But he had a habit of just disappearing – and you can't build a team around someone who isn't always assured of turning up.

"The club tried to help, they gave him medication and there were times they'd cover up and say he wasn't well but in fact he'd gone missing and no-one knew where he was."

Best was sacked then reinstated by chairman Tom Hart after the notorious boozy rugby incident, but there followed a string of other non-appearances and 'injury' cover ups before one of soccer's living legends was sent for an early bath.

"The marriage between George Best and Hibernian Football Club is over," declared Hart at a postmatch press conference in October 1980, emphasising his point by drawing his hand across a table strewn with bottles and glasses and sending them crashing to the ground.

Tragically and despite his best efforts, Hibernian Football Club could never be a substitute for the champagne-fuelled lifestyle that held one of the world's greatest players firmly in its grip.

BEST ON BEST

George in his own words

On being made Footballer of the Century . . .

It's a pleasure to be standing here. It's a pleasure to be standing up.

On his women . . .

They say I slept with seven Miss Worlds. I didn't. It was only four. I didn't turn up for the other three.

On a blood transfusion for his liver transplant . . .

I was in for 10 hours and had 40 pints – beating my previous record by 20 minutes.

On going to play for Vancouver Whitecaps . . .

I saw an advert on the side of a London bus inviting me to "Drink Canada Dry".

On his legacy . . .

They'll forget all the rubbish when I've gone and they'll remember the football. If only one person thinks I'm the best player in the world, that's good enough for me.

On his biggest regret . . .

I took a penalty against Chelsea in 1971 and Peter Bonetti saved it. I wish I'd sent it the other way.