Football Poets

36 Poems for George Best

(Editorial notes on George appear at the end of the poems.Crispin.)

01 BEST WISHES -Parry Maguire -Haiku*
02 BELFAST’S FAVOURITE SON – Haiku – Crispin Thomas
03 COINCIDENTAL Haiku -Stuart Butler
04 THE BEST OF ALL TIME Haiku – Parry Maguire
05 BEST GIFT OF ALL-Haiku – Crispin Thomas
06 THE BEST -Joe Reid
07 WALL OF SOUND-Alan McKean
08 GEORGIE BEST- Acrostic-Steve Wickham
09 BEST -Acrostic Kevin Raymond
10 THE BEST OF ALL -Parry Maguire
11 THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES-Crispin Thomas
12 GEORGE BEST R.I.P -Clik The Mouse
13 NOBODY DOES IT BETTER (Georgie you’re the Best)
14 BALLAD FOR THE BELFAST BOY
15 BEST : UNEQUALLED UNRIVALLED UNSURPASSED
16 GEORGE BEST AT FIFTY -Nell Farrell
17 A BREATH OF FRESH AIR -Kevin Raymond
18 THE BEST ARTIST-Parry Maguire
19 SIMPLY THE BEST-Mark Merriman
20 GEORGE WAS BEST–Ron Hiles
21 FIZZ IN HEAVEN-Alan McKean
22 WIZARD OF THE WORLDLY GAME–Alan McKean
23 BEST AMONG EQUALS-Parry Maguire
24 BAGS I BE BESTIE-Peter Goulding
25 I WISH I BELIEVED IN HEAVEN -Joe Reid
26 STILL THEY TALK OF HIM-Kevin Raymond
27 SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND-Parry Maguire
28 A MINUTE’S APPLAUSE – Parry Maguire
29 OH GEORGIE – Glenn
30 FINAL GOAL – Barrie Haughton
31 GEORGE BEST (1946-2005) – Christopher T. George
32 GEORGE BEST – Benjamin Craig
33 GEORGE BEST – IN GRATITUDE – Two Left Feet
34 BELFAST BOY -Thomas Jones
35 PASSING TIME – Mike Dunne
36 THE BEST -Acrostic Bernard Martin
———————————————————————–
01 BEST WISHES – Haiku

From Heaven’s green pitch
A mother calls her son home
His dinner’s ready.

Parry Maguire – Nov 05
——————————————————————-
02 BELFAST’S FAVOURITE SON – Haiku

the world at your feet
what memories you leave us
Belfast’s favourite son

Crispin Thomas – Nov 05
———————————————————-
03 COINCIDENTAL Haiku

The day George Best died,
The pubs stayed open all day.
The mourning after.

Stuart Butler – Nov 05
———————————————————————————-
04 BEST OF ALL TIME – Haiku

Heaven’s Eleven
God called His Best home to play
The Beautiful Game.

Parry Maguire – Nov 05
—————————————————————————–
05 BEST GIFT OF ALL – Haiku

though life the real gift
you came with your own magic
why then such weeping ?

Crispin Thomas – Nov 05
——————————————————–
06 THE BEST

At Highbury, at Anfield, at White Hart Lane
At Wembley, and most of all, at Old Trafford
But at every ground, and on every field
Where a little kid kicks a ball
In the morning
And at the going down of the sun
We will remember him
So aptly named,
The Best.

© Joe Reid Nov 05
—————————————————————
07 WALL OF SOUND

A silence
A whistle
And a wall of sound erupts in praise,
A tribute to The Magician.
The George Best Wall of Sound
Rings out loud across the beautiful game.
A Molyneux farewell.

Alan McKean – Nov 05
——————————————————————
08 GEORGIE BEST -Acrostic

Gifted Player
Eternal Gift
Ordinary man
Riveting
Genius on the pitch
Incredible skill
Extraordinary man

Belfast Boy
East Belfast
Superman
The Best Irish Footballer

Steve Wickham Nov 05
————————————————————————–
09 BEST – Acrostic

Beauty is all when it’s there at yer feet

East Belfast boy who came from the street

Skill in abundance, ahead of his time

To be one so gifted is surely divine

Kevin Raymond – Nov 05
————————————————————————-
10 THE BEST OF ALL

George Best
The Belfast Boy
Whose warm heart
Poured rich blood
Into those beautiful limbs
Vibrant with a subtle grace
That did not flinch
Did not rehearse
This mother’s son
The first of God’s 11
Running without script
On the road home…

P Maguire – Nov 05
————————————————————————-
11 THE BEST YEARS OF OUR LIVES

how apt the snow outside today
like some cup-tie of old
as the news comes over
too late to ask why too numb to cry
what was it Parkie said?
“you never knew how good you were
or how good you could have been”

but it’s down that touchline and leaving defenders strewn like trees
that I’ll remember you Best
and I can still recall that day the first time i saw you
16th March 1963 Old Trafford Man U v Chelsea
we were fifteen me and Vince Pierce
school mates and blue through and through
on the train and up for the Cup
but you – you tore us apart and we were left
clutching silver paper and cardboard cups with dreams in shreds
peering and gasping behind that old white wooden fence
a red blur of cheek skill and impudence
Charlton and Law alongside sleeves in hands
that talent shining

we never wanted it to end like this of course
” I hope my plight’s a warning to others” you said
fading ashen and grey
some legend though you were on and off the green
and its out there destroying Benfica single-footed
and dancing through mud at Northampton
poaching six cheekily rounding that hapless keeper
then stopping on the line to give a salute first
you wanted to lie down on the ground and nod it in
you said later
but you thought it might not go down too well
so naughty was Georgie – everywhere!

lying down forever now
strange too to think in barely six sweet seasons
and 115 goals in 290 games
you became Belfast’s favourite son
the fifth Beatle – looks to die for
you were the one we all wanted to look like
inventing celebrity with a ball a swagger and style
skipping and dancing with impudent skill
you had it all – you thrilled us all
you squandered it all
preferring to burn out brightly
rather than fade away

“I go missing a lot” you once said
“Miss Canada, Miss United Kingdom,Miss World!”
now it’s us missing you
wine women and gone
but it’s those goals those dribbles
and your football grace and cheek
that will like light go on

Crispin Thomas – Nov 05
———————————————————————–
12 GEORGE BEST R.I.P

One world
One game
One man

Just one man, mourned like no other
Mourned, as father, son, brother
Mourned, as husband, cousin, lover

Mourned, by millions ….. as football genius

And mourned already and often
For the all-too-early retirement
The alcoholic abuse, the wasted years

But George celebrated life
And we celebrated his talent
So from here on in – we’ll cherish the memories
For anyone who was ever privileged enough to see him play – was privileged indeed

Georgie porgie, kissed the girls and made them ….
Sigh
And we sighed too, oh, to be like him, onfield and off
For every touch of the ball, was like a lover’s kiss
Tender and tempting
Followed by an exhilarating flourish
Each shimmy, a tantalising tango
Each drop of the shoulder, a champagne moment

We celebrate the fifth Beatle
The first football megastar –
Unfortunately, too fond of a jar
But blissfully – he put the beauty, into the Beautiful Game
And as for the name?
So appropriate

@Clik The Mouse – Nov 05
——————————————————————————–
13 NOBODY DOES IT BETTER (Georgie you’re the Best)

Like a Rolling Stone back in the sixties days
The ballad of a thin lad started to play

He was Elvis Presley in a pair of footie boots
The terrace all shook up when Georgie turned to shoot

He was a young fresh kid just seventeen
And he rocked up the staid old football scene

A homesick lad from the streets of Belfast
Took the ball from Law screamed “Bobby pass!”

The greats of United they were all enthralled
With the Belfast Boy and his way with the ball

When Busby unleashed him out on the wing
The crowd all gasped at a wondrous thing

A drop of his shoulder, a quick change of pace
A flick with his boots he created space

A born entertainer of that no doubt
The Belfast Beatle how he’d twist and shout

The lads of Forest he tied up in Notts
He would search for defenders but they were all lost

Two great feet he was boss in the air
Goals hung like ribbons in his wild black hair

The Scottish lads in a one man show
Georgie turned it on they had nowhere to go

The school of hard tackles tried to scythe him down
But with a swivel of hips he would dance across the ground

He left defenders on their arses lift the crowd up off their feet
Like a wizard he was magic he didn’t need to cheat

Europe ’68 and Benfica bow down
New King of Europe George Best is crowned

Plagued by his demons he could never out race
Just remember his football and the smile on his face

Kids across the globe those rich & poor
Out on the parks still copy skills so pure

Now he lines up in heaven with the Busby Babes
The twinkle in his eyes clear of the alcoholic haze

He pulls on his boots and he smiles at Bobby Moore
God hands him his shirt “The number 7 George is yours”

With Charlton & Law the Holy Trinity
They’re remembered Best, immortality.

Parry Maguire – Dec 1 05

——————————————————————
14 BALLAD FOR THE BELFAST BOY

The first time we saw Georgie
He was just a skinny kid
Brought in for the missing Babes
We remember what he did –

He was the man…

His footwork was audacious –
He could leave a team for dead –
Defenders were bamboozled
As he scored with foot or head –

Played like a dream…

He soon became top scorer
And the Player of the Year,
When he’d turned just twenty-two
He was better than his peers –

He was the Best!

He found a lot of new friends
And the ladies loved his eyes –
He built himself a new home
But there was no where he could hide –

He was a star…

He started missing training
And the press were on his case :
Reporting on his love life,
All that clubbing , such a waste –

He did it all…

So he found himself a secret
Way to keep on feeling high –
He did n’t need a dentist’s chair,
George was rarely ever dry –

Drink was his friend…

His fame brought many changes
And the vultures came to call,
Like Greavesie he hit benders
But he did n’t need a ball –

Life was a blur…

The King grew fat in Vegas
While the Beatles came undone –
All those swinging days were ending
And the end had just begun –

George walked away…

He tried to stop his drinking
And to be his charming self;
The wagon left without him –
Found a bottle on the shelf –

Bringing him down…

Last place we saw Georgie
Was a tabloid photograph :
Look and see what drink has done
As it stole away my life…

Shankley was right!

Pundits replayed his talents,
Critics remembered the booze,
Fans recalled a complex man
Who always hated to lose…

Hated to lose…

And how the fans applauded
As they crowded his home ground,
Tribute to a genius,
On a banner, written down :

Simply the Best …
Georgie was Best.

@Patrick B.Osada – Dec 1 05
———————————————————————————
15 BEST : UNEQUALLED UNRIVALLED UNSURPASSED

To play football
Feet with the genius kiss
Your light flared as you saw what came
With your simple wish
The fame, the girls
You filled your boots
On the pitch you dazzled
A missile set for goal
Snipers couldn’t have stopped you
As you took on the scorers role
You filled your boots
Drinking became a problem
Everybody loved to drink with you
It was the only way you got the buzz
Once the football was done
Nobody has yet filled your boots
Maybe they never will
Singing your name still

© S B Ingle 1.12.2005

——————————————————————————-

16 GEORGE BEST AT FIFTY

We have been estranged for many years
but spent your birthday weekend together
thanks to BBC2.

I loved you with a tomboy’s passion
mesmerised by your feet;
the left you worked and worked
with a tennis ball
until it obeyed with all the ease
of your natural right.

Your feet were part of my salvation,
lifting my spirit way beyond
the outstretched hands of blood-stained saints.
Watching those feet,
keeping my eye on the ball
I dodged the defenders of the faith
left them standing, navy blue veils
blowing in the wind.

Saturdays I wore my brother’s cast-off Stylo boots,
your name scrawled on the side,
and screw-in studs. The laces were so long
there was an art to tying them that boys knew.
I learnt the ‘underneath and round’,
the tying of the final, flamboyant bow.
I was like you then;
flying down the wing, ball glued to my feet,
my brother’s friends saying
“That’s never a girl!”
As they failed to stop me….

You were working class and gifted,
uprooted, getting drunk, just like my father.
I prayed your name, with others I collected;
all exiled Celts, the worse for drink
but worthy of respect.
George Best I’d say
and Richard Burton, Richard harris
covering the mouthpiece
when my grammar school friends phoned
so they wouldn’t hear him shouting in the background

Nell Farrell 2001
——————————————————————
17 A BREATH OF FRESH AIR

As the applause spreads around Molyneaux like a Mexican wave
To celebrate the life of a Wolves fan from the Cregagh
Even in death he still brings to our game
That something different that was there for us all to see
In his life on hallowed fields of green
No more a minute’s silence of sadness
But a minute of applause that befits the maestro
To show our thanks for having seen
Such a revelation in the way the game was played
By one who never read your training manuals
Such natural skill can’t be taught
Is truly a thing of great beauty and wonder to behold
Forever to stay in the mind
Of those who were indeed fortunate enough
To have witnessed it
Now we are left with a constant reminder of him.

Kevin Raymond Nov 05
—————————————————————-
18 THE BEST ARTIST

His feet drew the colours
All lined in a row
His boots used as brushes
His goals a rainbow

He mixed up his paints
On his canvas the pitch
And he weaved us his magic
With a swivel of hips

A web spinning wonder
Deft strokes of the ball
Those sick came to watch him
For they went back home cured

He rose as a phoenix
The bright shining star
Painted beautiful colours
On a grey football park

The kids loved to see him
At the theatre of dreams
He was like the pied piper
And his name they would sing

Now he’s gone back to heaven
Tho’ he left us too soon
But the world changed for better
When he laced up his boots.

P. Maguire Nov 05
———————————————————————–
19 SIMPLY THE BEST

With a swerve and a shimmy
he escapes the clutches
of yet another hatchet man
hell-bent on breaking him in half.

A burst of blistering pace
sends him clear of a ragged rearguard;
defenders trailing in his wake;
bemused and befuddled by his brilliance.

And then the goals:
sublime chip over covering defender,
dazzling run and calm, slotted finish,
ball taken round Benfica keeper.

Twinkle in his eye never brighter,
impish grin never wider
than when he threw mud at the ref,
nodded the ball out of Banks’ hands.

Heads bowed at grounds
up and down the land.
Fans and players united to
pay tribute to a football genius.

Remembering the slim, slight figure,
not the gaunt, husk of a man
staring out from the tabloids,
life slowly ebbing away.

Picture the scene:
George in football heaven,
pitting his wits against the wily Moore;
two legends doing battle again.

Mark Merriman – Nov 05
———————————————————
20 GEORGE WAS BEST

Boro verses Man United
Same time every year
FA Cup at stake again
The laughter and the tears.
‘Don’t give him the ball, Lord,
Don’t give him the ball.’
God says, ‘Watch’, and
George says, ‘Thanks,’ and
Dribbles round the wall.
Fifty thousand screaming fans
We love him to a man
No one can defend his run
And I’m a Boro fan.

Ron Hiles – Nov 05

———————————————————-
21 FIZZ IN HEAVEN

Memo to The Boss:
Get out the bottle of fizz,
Georgie’s come to play.
Lifestyle choices can’t hurt now,
Just remember the football.

Alan McKean – Nov 05
————————————————————
22 WIZARD OF THE WORLDLY GAME

Dreamweaver
Spellbinder
Magician
Wizard

The World’s game
Lay at your feet,
And you treated it mercilessly
The field of green was yours.

Champagne Georgie.
A character
A charmer
A prat.

You made your choices,
For better, for worse.

Was the life worth price?
Only you can judge.
Now your name joins the list
Of players gone, but not forgotten.

But remember George,

Wizards never die.

Alan McKean – Nov 05
——————————————————————–
23 BEST AMONG EQUALS

Shankly had wisdom for reading the game
Pele such vision commanding the play
Matthews the wizard for conjuring spells
Cruyff’s boots for healing Gerd Muller’s for hell
Puskas used magic that lit up the pitch
And the once King of Naples had power to bewitch
The dazzling angles of Kenny Dalglish
The pace of Eusebio with the ball at his feet
The calm supreme tackling of the great Bobby Moore
But the soul of God’s football?
The Best of them all.

Parry Maguire – Nov 05
——————————————————————-
24 BAGS I BE BESTIE

“Bags I be Bestie!” the cry would resound,
As impromptu goalposts were flung on the ground.
And twenty young lads would chase after the ball
Without much positional foresight at all.
And Greavesie and Hurley would go chin to chin
Over whether the ball hit the post or went in.
But Bestie would show what the game was about,
Swiv’lling those hips with his shirt hanging out,
Actually hearing the thund’ring acclaim
Reserved for the few who had mastered the game.
For Charlton piledrivers showed consummate skill,
But rounding poor Banksie was more of a thrill,
And even your Mam was aware of George Best,
The long-haired magician who always impressed,
Selling the dummy with effortless ease,
A drop of the shoulder and shake of the knees.
And then the bell sounded, like shattering glass,
And red-faced and sweaty we trooped back to class.
Oh, wonderful times that flew by in a blur,
Bags I be Bestie – but none of us were.

Peter Goulding – Nov 05
—————————————————————————
25 I WISH I BELIEVED IN HEAVEN

I wish I believed in Heaven
I would dearly love George to be there
Playing with big Duncan Edwards
Under Matt Busby’s fatherly stare

I wish I believed in Heaven
Where, in His Celestial care
The angels would gather in thousands
To watch that incredible pair

I wish I believed in Heaven
I would try to get up on a cloud
Where I could be with the angels
Among football’s luckiest crowd

Joe Reid Nov 05
—————————————————————-
26 STILL THEY TALK OF HIM

In the betting shops and workmans clubs
Still, they talk of him
In the paper shops and match day pubs
Still, they talk of him

A spindly looking young fella
Who tore yer team apart
Then and only then you knew
What you’d seen seen was art

Chopper thought he had him
It was but a dream
He tantalized us then chastized us
On that field of green

At Craven Cottage one Boxing Day morning
I saw and wanted more
Of what was then the best on show
Charlton, Best and Law

As I sat on a strangers shoulders
So I could see the match
The beauty of such stars on show
Was simply where its at

As a generation grew in confidance
Then lets its hair grow long
We took to taking new idols
Through football, films and song

No more short back and sides for us
We changed the way we dressed
We wanted to be just like he
The beautiful George Best

In the betting shops and workmans clubs
Still, they talk of him
In the paper shops and match day pubs
Still, they talk of him

Kevin Raymond – Nov 05
———————————————————–
27 SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND

Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Now there’s a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.

You were caught in the crossfire, of football and stardom,
Blown on the steel breeze.
Come on you target, for faraway laughter,
Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!

You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.

Well you wore out your beauty, with random precision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

Parry Maguire – Nov 05
——————————————————————————-
28 A MINUTE’S APPLAUSE FROM THE HEART OF THE TERRACE

All football legends would prefer
To go back to their maker
With the sound of terrace applause
Ringing in their ears and boots
As opposed to the sound of silence
George Best’s skill as a footballer
Was a thing of beauty
And I mourned the passing of his genuis long ago
Now is the appropiate time
To applaud that genuis,
Especially those of us who were privileged
To have witnessed the man
Out on the football pitch
Where he touched our hearts
Perhaps just fleetingly with his sublime gifts
As he raced past
With a swivel of his hips and a twinkle of his toes
Along the touchline…
A part of my childhood slipped away
With the passing of George Best,
and I’m not ashamed to say that yesterday
I shed tears for the loss of both.

Parry Maguire – Nov 05
—————————————————————————–
29 FINAL GOAL

You danced around
Benfica
in your prime,
but even you
could never hope to
out-dance
Time.

@Barrie Haughton – Nov 05
——————————————————————————-
30 OH GEORGIE

Oh Georgie, you were the wizard of the ball,
What happened to the magic that you conjured for us all,
A drop of the shoulder, taking your man,
Scoring goals like only you can.

Oh Georgie, it was all too short,
And you never learned the lessons you were taught,
You lived a life of celebrity,
Discarding the gift God gave to thee.

Oh Georgie, the stunning goal, the perfect pass,
Are blurred remembrances at the bottom of a glass,
Wine, women, whiskey and more wine,
Meant more to you than earthly time.

Oh Georgie, where have you gone,
Be it Heaven or Hell, it’s done, my son,
You cheated death with more lives than a cat,
But you raise your glass and drink to that.

Oh Georgie, it’s time for goodbye,
We will miss you, we will, but who will cry,
The tears that roll down will be for lost talent at rest,
That superstar talent, rest in peace Georgie Best.

@Glenn – Nov 05
———————————————————————————-
31 GEORGE BEST (1946-2005)

United had balding Englishman Bobby Charlton,
flaxen-haired Scot Dennis Law,
and later, mop-topped Welshman Mark Hughes.
All three served United steadfastly and well.
–But there’ll be only one wee Georgie Best,
the dark Belfast boyo,
a wizard of the game,
simply the Best.

@Christopher T. George – Nov 05
——————————————————————————-
32 GEORGE BEST

George Best was the best,
Better than all the rest,
He walked through the defence,
Even though it was like a fence.

He retired too early,
Unlike George Burley,
Without a good think,
He took the drink,
And that was the end of him.

He was a god,
Not a sod,
To the Man Utd Club,
Cause he was never a sub.

George Best was the best,
Better than all the rest,
He walked through the defence,
Even though it was like a fence.

His funeral in Belfast,
Thousands upon thousands are the cast,
No one will forget him,
Cause he was never dim.

His spirit stayed with us,
Goes to Rooney without a fuss,
Because they are so alike,
They are quicker than a bike!

© Benjamin Craig
——————————————————————————–

33. GEORGE BEST- IN GRATITUDE

Off the pitch
He burned the Roman candle
at both ends.

On it
He was a November rocket.
His flair was stellar –
Once glimpsed
Imprinted forever
on the film of memory

Replay it now –
Crowd hush
as he spins into space
Increasing pace
for all he’s worth.

Adrenalin rush.

Gliding
with waterboatman poise
on turf churned brown

Past sliding
tackles, disdaining to go down.

Then scoring.

Enthralled breath
is freed
Crowd roars,
exhaling praise towards the floodlights

Soaring,
It bursts into a starshell
of applause.
Embers of recall
fall, sparkling, back to earth

© twoleftfeet

——————————————————————————-
34. BELFAST BOY –

Georgie they called him the Belfast boy
He gave the Stretford end so much joy
Pele said he was the best
We’re just glad he was so blessed

Busby brought him from the emerald isle
He left the defenders in a pile
He was just a skinny cocky kid
He would get into any team Milan, Benfica or Real Madrid
He had so much talent he could use either foot or his head
But he drank too much and got many women into bed

He lost his life to the drink
And let’s just take a moment to think
Of that team we used to adore
With three legends Charlton Best and Law.

Thomas Jones
———————————————————————–

35 PASSING TIME

I lived in Chorlton as a kid
near Busby’s rising stars –
we’d try to catch a glimpse of them
and bagsy their fast cars.

One summer evening cycling home
from dad’s allotment I
saw Georgie Best in his white Jag
and shirtsleeves driving by;

over the hill by Chorlton Baths
he swept, not hurriedly
and quickly disappeared from view
quite unaware of me.

I stood transfixed then looked around
for someone I could share
this moment with but I was all alone
except for birdsong in the air.

Mike Dunne
———————————————————————–
36 THE BEST – Acrostic

Get back to the fourteenth of September 1963
Even then it was an extra special talent you could see
Out of Belfast Bob Bishop had uncovered a genius
Running rings round defenders, destined to be rebellious.
Grainy, jumpy, quirky black and white film chart his early game
El Beatle returns from Lisbon into the madness and fame.

Bestie’s up in heaven still tormenting those poor defenders
Ever the charmer, he still gets forgiven for his benders.
Sadly I wonder if my memories will begin to fade
Time was when he was my youth. I was in the crowd when he played.

Bernard Martin
————————————————————————–
George Best 1946-2005.

Like a pop star of his time , George was a player I was fortunate enough to see play LIVE on 6 or 7 occasions either at the Bridge or Old Trafford.. but always on the opposing side! Best was one of that select magic few, along with Pele, Ronaldinho, Zola and Matthews whom home and away fans would all rise to applaud . How right then that appluase replaces silence today at many a ground. George would’ve like that.

Often lovingly referred to as Roy of The RAVERS , he re-invented the word dribble.George Best helped Manchester United win the First Division title in 1965 and 1967 and the European Cup in 1968. His role in the team’s success was recognised by his becoming the European Footballer of the Year in 1968. Best made 466 appearances for the Old Trafford club, scoring a total of 178 goals.

He also won 37 caps – scoring nine goals – for Northern Ireland. He
was heard to quip: “I spent a lot of money on booze, birds and fast cars. The rest I just squandered!” and also claimed ” I gave up the booze and birds once – it was the worst twenty minutes of my life!”

Along the crazy highway that was his career, he played for Manchester United,Stockport County, Cork Celtics, Dunstable Town, Los Angeles Aztecs, Fulham, Fort Lauderdale ,Hibernian, San Jose Earthquakes, Bournemouth,Brisbane Lions.

Crispin

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