By GEOFFREY SEED
This playbill rather interrupted the flow as I attempted to finish chapter 8 of my next political thriller. It wasn't that the Beatles weren't the biggest attraction or that it only cost four shillings and sixpence to see them.
No, it was being briefly reminded of Kenny Lynch who appeared lower down the running order. Kenny was a chum of the "fifth Beatle"... Manchester United's fabulous and flawed star player, George Best.
The Daily Mail, for whom I then toiled, knew George was box office. I was part of a team following him day and night, reporting on anything he did, especially with whom he did it. Oh, and get her name if possible.
My part involved:
* My Renault 4 fish-tailing over wet cobbles outside a Salford pub as George's E type roared off
* Staking out his digs in Mrs Fullaway's neatly appointed council house in Chorlton
* Loitering in some naff, hamster-in-a-basket night club that our hero frequented... as did many a flame-haired temptress.
George, then on a staggering £900 a week, re-homed himself in a glass and concrete box in Cheshire. One high profile visitor was Kenny Lynch, chart-topping singer and TV entertainer who obviously felt protective of his Best friend.
He once shared his trenchant views on Her Majesty's Press with me as he arrived to spend some quality time with George.
The sentiment wasn't unlike that expressed to me by ex-Manchester United manager, Tommy Docherty, when doorstepping him for a World in Action investigation I produced into corruption at the club.
'Listen, son,' he said, 'no offence, but if you were on fire, I wouldn't even piss on you.'
No offence taken. It was, as George told me himself years later, all part of the game.
9 September 2026
