Milestones

Appreciation
Even in today's celebrity culture, there are few people whose medical updates lead to newspaper billboards being changed. In late October, I watched the news vendor tear off FINAL VIGIL FOR BEST and replace it with GEORGE RALLIES. GEORGE BEST, whose genius on the soccer field—combined with his antics off it—made him a modern icon, held on that day. But last Friday he lost the final round to multiple organ failure after complications triggered by a lung infection, aged 59. Even generations unborn when he worked his soccer magic lamented the loss of a great sporting talent.

Just how great the world will never know. He came from a working-class background in Northern Ireland, one of soccer's minnows, and so never graced the final rounds of the World Cup. Had he done so, many believe he would have passed Pelé as the greatest of all time. He helped Manchester United become the first English Champions of Europe. But Best's story is one of talent beyond any other, yet talent unfulfilled. The demons that drove him to drink meant he was in decline from the day he left Manchester, aged 27. He played for lesser clubs, including three in North America. Though he lost his skills, he never lost his humor: once asked why he went to play for the Vancouver Whitecaps, he said he saw an advert urging him to "Drink Canada Dry."

He appeared drunk and incapable on TV, broke the hearts of many a woman who thought she could tame him, was jailed for head-butting a policeman who dared to breathalyze him. Yet somehow, he was forgiven by anyone who saw him play. I count myself lucky to have been among them. It is sad that he has gone. Yet somehow the idea of an old George Best never seemed right. He was born to play soccer, and probably, because of those demons, born to die too soon.

—By Alastair Campbell

LIFTED. ARMS EMBARGO placed on Indonesia by the U.S. in 1999 after accusations that the nation's military led a brutal crackdown on East Timorese seeking independence; in Washington. A U.S. State Department spokesman said the removal of the embargo would bolster American security objectives in Asia, such as supporting Jakarta's fight against terrorism. Some human-rights groups criticized the U.S. decision, which they said decreased the likelihood that the Indonesian military leaders accused of planning the East Timor assault will ever face trial.

RETIRED. TED KOPPEL, 65, as the veteran anchor of ABC's Nightline, three years after the network's embarrassingly public and unsuccessful effort to secretly replace him with David Letterman; in Washington, D.C. Since its inception 26 years ago, Koppel made the half-hour show a lively, aggressive examination of the day's news. Downplaying his exit, he ended his last broadcast by asking viewers to give his successors a chance. Or else, he said with a jab at ABC, "I promise the network will just put another comedy show in this time slot. Then you'll be sorry."

CHARGED. PAUL FRANCIS GADD, 61, a.k.a. Gary Glitter, with "committing lewd acts with minors"; in Vung Tau, Vietnam. The 1970s glam-rock icon best known for hits like Rock and Roll (Part 2) and Leader of the Gang served two months in prison in his native Great Britain in 1999 for possession of child pornography and was expelled from Cambodia in 2002 under suspicion of pedophilia, an accusation he denied. According to police, five young girls, one aged 11, say he paid them $10-20 for sex at his rented home. Gadd denies the allegations, saying that he only taught the girls English and that they told him they were over 20. If convicted, he could face up to 12 years in prison.

DIED. PAT MORITA, 73, actor nominated for an Academy Award for his wise, wry Mr. Miyagi, the martial-arts mentor in 1984's The Karate Kid and its three sequels; in Las Vegas. Born in California to migrant fruit-pickers, Morita lived with his family in a U.S. internment camp for Japanese during World War II. The aspiring comic entered show business at 30 and first won national fame as Arnold, manager of the teen hangout in the 1970s-'80s sitcom Happy Days.

DIED. LINK WRAY, 76, guitarist whose pioneering use of the power chord on his 1958 instrumental hit Rumble inspired rockers from Pete Townshend to Neil Young; in Copenhagen. Standing out in an age of clean-cut performers, Wray shook up the music world with his guitar distortions and menacing persona, laying the foundation for punk, metal and beyond. In the 1990s he resurfaced when his music was featured in several films including Pulp Fiction and Independence Day.

DIED. ALFRED ANDERSON, 109, Scotland's oldest man and last surviving British veteran of the 1914 Christmas Truce of World War I; in Newtyle, Scotland. As an 18-year-old soldier serving in the Black Watch regiment, he heard the guns fall silent along the Western Front on Christmas Day as British and German soldiers emerged from the trenches to greet each other in no-man's-land; they sang carols, swapped cigarettes and played soccer until fighting resumed that afternoon. In 1998, he was awarded France's Legion of Honor for his war service.