If you listen closely to the streets of Belfast or the terraces of Old Trafford, you can still hear the echo. It’s not the roar of a goal; it’s the gasp of disbelief. That was George Best’s currency. He didn't just score goals; he stole breath. They called him the "Fifth Beatle." It was a clever nickname, but it was wrong. The Beatles were a band, they had each other. George Best was alone. He was the first rockstar of football, a shy boy from Cregagh who was thrust onto a stage so bright it eventually burned him alive.
