If ever frustration without rancour could be measured it was evident in the disappointment carried on George Best's lament when we shared a bottle of bubbly by the poolside in Dubai and he was in a mood to reveal his deepest disappointment.
Best, a friend for nearly 40 years, was the other half of an after-dinner double act we were performing as guests of the Lamprell Oil Rig company during a memorable week in the Emirates just a few months before he died so tragically.
His answer to my question, long forgotten until last week when I discovered a taped chat I had recorded with him, echoed like an eerie voice from the dead with the umistakable Irish burr he never lost despite being his absence from his Belfast roots since his teens.
Our chat never veered from football — and the World Cup, his most lasting hurt. "That," he said, "has to be the ultimate stage, the showcase for football and footballers at its most spectacular. And I missed out on it. It is something I don't think I will ever get over."
His Northern Ireland international team, despite his individual brilliance, never qualified during his time and genius Pele, a world cup winner with Brazil, was later moved to say: "Best was the greatest of players and it is tragedy he missed out through no fault of his own."
The pity was that there were no others in the green-shirted line-up, except maybe goalkeeper Pat Jennings, who could muster a world-class rating or performance level over and above their natural spirit for the encounter.
Pele, who autographed my Press card and noticed it was issued in Manchester said: "You are one lucky guy that you were able to see George at his finest with Manchester United. I loved watching him. He was quick, two-footed, tricky, great in the air, brave and dashing and a joy to watch.
"Your privilege was not one which was, and should have been, granted to people who love football at its finest and watch the World Cup to see the greatest players wanting to show their skills.
George would have fitted perfectly into that atmosphere. He was by far my favourite player. He must go down in football history as the finest player never to have featured in the World Cup."
"Wow, Pele said that, did he?" is Best's amazed reaction on the tape.
And he adds: "It's like any professional ... any star .... you just want to be able to demonstrate your ability on the biggest stages of them all. Opera singers at La Scala, Milan, pop idols at Wembley, actors in Hollywood."
Best regretted little in his troubled lifetime and was rarely remorseful but his overriding sadness, I confess elicited by my insistence on delving deeply into his memory banks, was delivered with his customary open honesty.
And he revealed a secret yearning typical of his outrageous and mesmerising skill and confidence in carrying through what others would not even consider.
It stemmed from his goal in Manchester United's destruction of Portuguese side Benfica in the European Cup in 1968, when 20 million fans worldwide tuned in.
Best wrong-footed and rounded the goalkeeper to walk the ball into the net. And he told me how for years afterwards, and what he would have loved to have done in a World Cup, he carried an overwhelming desire to score the most ridiculous of goals.
"I used to dream about taking the ball past the ‘keeper, stopping it on the line and then getting down on my knees and heading it into the net.
"When I scored against Benfica in the European Cup I nearly did just that. I'd left the keeper for dead, and I had the ball all to myself right on the goal line, but I chickened out.
"I was worried I might have given the boss a heart attack. I'd love to have been the same situation in a World Cup game with hundreds of millions of people all over the world watching on TV ... and I would have gone through with it. Or maybe not...."
There was not a trace of vanity or egotism in his response when I asked him how he rated himself at his peak and he replied: "I see players nowadays being bought and sold for £50 million. At my peak and in today's market, I reckon £100 million would have bought me.
"I was born with a great gift — but sometimes that comes with a destructive streak. I just wanted to outdo everybody when I was out there on the pitch. And it was the same when I was out on the town enjoying a few drinks and a few girls."
His downfall, via a passion for partying and overdoses of drink with girlfriends galore attracted by his fame and his fatefully good looks, saw the late nights outnumber the spells of responsible behaviour and it all came to a dramatic end in the top flight of football when he walked away from Manchester United in 1974 when he was 28.
He left behind a record of having played 470 times for United, hit 179 goals, being the club's top scorer for six successive seasons, once hit six in a Cup match after a return from a long suspension, won the FA and the European Cups and was voted Europe's Player of the Year.
By then he was firmly established as football's first showbiz star in a world crazy to see him perform his mesmerising skills.
The memories of his legend he left behind were never more graphically expounded than by an old foe, West Ham winger Harry Redknapp, now the Spurs manager, who could only watch on helplessly as Best romped to a punishing display against the Londoners at Old Trafford and scored a wonder goal after dribbling past about six defenders to get in a pinpoint shot.
I recall Redknapp running over to George and mouthing something as they made their way to the re-start.
In Dubai I asked Best what the Hammers star had said. "How did you remember that from all those years ago?" he quizzed. And he revealed: "When Harry ran over to me shouted ‘That was magic, George, magic.' How about that from an opponent?"
Pele, still going strong because unlike Best looked after his own well-being, would have loved his hero's taped revelation. "Back home in Ireland the crowd had a chant....Maradonna GOOD... Pele BETTER... Georgie BEST."
When Bobby Charlton — now Sir Bobby — and tough defender Nobby Styles returned to Old Trafford after their 1966 World Cup triumph Best recalls he thought: "I wasn't jealous. They were my teammates and it was a pleasure to be part of their lives and to be able to share their happiness and see at first hand how proud it had made them. I just told myself .... one day ... one day ... it will happen to me.
"But it never did. And I'll go to my grave with the dying wish that I would have given anything to have been seen giving it my all in a World Cup final."
And he did.
