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When I lived in Chelsea I'd watch the football in the Phene Arms, it was over the road from George's house so of course he was always in there... I used to love watching the game sitting opposite him, his punditry was great... Of course he was a complete drunk, his wife would come and drag him out at closing time on the regular... A sad, sick old man...
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NotThamesWater
Had a mate who lived in Reading who would regularly go up to London on his day off because he knew George would be in the pub all day and would chat football to anyone who'd buy him drinks. Profoundly depressing.
Also worked for the insurance company who insured his health AFTER his liver transplant. Underwriters had paroxysms, but the Directors said it was worth it for the business he brought in.
We named our capital city's airport after that wifebeating drunk.