I’ve been at Old Trafford today, the home of Manchester United. We hosted a conference there and it was an extremely good event despite a number of setbacks, not least the fact that I got a call from my colleagues mid-afternoon and the call opened with the usual question that is always asked when you answer your mobile phone….. ‘Where are you?’ Nothing unusual in that, so I was completely unprepared for the next statement. ‘You’ll not be pleased to hear we’re in Newcastle!’

PANIC, PANIC, PANIC.

The train I was on was driving through heavy snow and I didn’t really think that it might mean the airport would be shut but indeed it was. We had 25 guests arriving in two hours for a conference and all of the rest of my team were in Newcastle, where their plane had bee diverted – around 150 miles away! I got on the phone to make contingency plans and discovered that one of the team was in Manchester so I was not alone but neither of our speakers were there.

PANIC, PANIC, PANIC.

I tracked down one of them – his flight had been diverted to Leeds and he was on a coach coming across the Pennines so we were pretty sure he’d make it and the other one was on a train so it looked like he’d make it too. Phew!

When I arrived at the stadium, there was a hushed atmosphere, despite there being lots of people around and a two hundred yard long carpet of flowers and shirts for Georgie Best. It was moving and weird all at once.

One of our speakers used the analogy in his speech that people are no longer ‘religious’ in this country by and large yet there is a spirituality nonetheless. He was referring to Diana’s death really – a beautiful woman who was an icon for many despite being, well, what some would kindly call ‘one short of a six-pack’ and more than a little emotionally fragile. All of a sudden, when she died, her shortcomings were forgotten and some were calling for her to become a Saint in what was surely one of the most bizarre episodes in our history. There were carpets of flowers left for her outside her home in London that stretched for miles. It was like a religious experience for many, many people.

Here we see similar outpourings of grief in a quasi-religious manner yet despite my usual cynicism, it was deeply touching – I walked along the display and noted that there were shirts from every team – not just United and Northern Ireland but City too…..and Liverpool, Arsenal, Everton and well, just about every team you could think of – including my own beloved Spurs. There were flowers, candles, cards, scarves and flags too. It was cold and snowy yet even when we left the stadium at 10pm, there were still many people there. Everyone loved George.

Best has become a new religion too, just like Diana. BUT, unlike Diana, he was a true hero of our culture because of his talent, not just some pretty, socially acceptable airhead who Prince Charles chose to use as his wife because he wasn’t allowed the woman he wanted. Yes, I know, she did lots for charity but am I the only cynic who suspects that her motives may not have been as altruistic as they seemed? Let’s just say the charity work was a good way to keep the public on her side in the bitter wrangling over ‘who did what to whom’ and to ensure her profile remained high.

Whether or not Georgie Best is God isn’t something I want to think about now but for the second time in three days, I find myself posting a tribute to the great man.

Last year, we were celebrating a Spurs victory and Sarah looked cold....and the year before, I was photographing leaves!