Carey, Delaney and Mitten; Edwards, Taylor and Byrne; Best, Law and Charlton; Beckham, Scholes and Giggs; Rooney, Ronaldo and Tevez; Norman Whiteside would have been an Old Trafford galactico in any era. A few weeks after his 14th birthday in 1979, a newspaper headline was asking: "Have United found the new George Best at last?" and in Spain three years later the teenager from Belfast's Shankill Road removed Pele from the record books when, at the age of 17 years and 41 days, he became the youngest player to appear in the World Cup finals.
Renowned as a scorer of great goals rather than a great goalscorer, Whiteside achieved cult status on the Stretford End at a horrendous physical cost. Even before he had written the first chapter of the legend - and less than a year after his historic appearance at Spain '82 he became the youngest FA Cup final scorer when he netted against Brighton in the 1983 Wembley replay - his body had begun the agonising decline that would lead to his premature retirement in 1990 when still only 25.
When his playing career was brutally terminated after nine knee operations in as many years, as a young man who (in Nesbitt's words) "enjoyed the occasional glass of sherry" and was never one to pass up a party invitation, Whiteside might easily have looked for solace in a bottle. Instead, after two FA Cup winner's medals, 305 games and 81 goals for United and Everton, 38 caps and nine goals for Northern Ireland, he returned to college to sit his GCSEs and A-levels. Then he went on to university to emerge with a Bachelor of Science (Hons) in podiatric medicine, followed by a postgraduate degree in sports science.
"And that's why I chose Determined for the title of my book," explains Whiteside, who runs his private practice from 11 St John Street, the Harley Street of Manchester. "I'm as proud of my victories in the classroom as I am of scoring the winning goal in an FA Cup final [against Everton in 1985]. When I talk to kids at summer school I drum it into them - 'Do your education first because not everyone's going to be a Wayne Rooney'. The way my life turned out, it just so happened I did it the other way around, football first and school books second."
Not for nothing has Whiteside been known as 'Smiley' by friends and family since childhood, because no matter what trials and tribulations he has endured, he steadfastly refuses to rail against the fates.
"No, I don't feel angry. I achieved so much in so little time, but that's the way it was mapped out for me. Some people don't get a real chance in life; I've had two. The only real sadness I feel is that when I was still only 15 and suffered a groin strain, I visited a highly recommended but unqualified physio in Belfast. He was old-school, who believed the only tools he needed were his two hands, and so he set about me as though kneading sausage meat. He wrenched my hips so hard I could barely draw breath, then moved to my groin, probing so deep I felt my pelvis move. Finally he pummelled my kidneys.
"I was never the same athlete again. From that day on I not only lost the ability to rotate my hips but also lost all my pace. Everyone talked about my lack of pace - which is absolutely true - and it was Sir Alex Ferguson's opinion that 'I honestly believe Norman would have been one of the finest players we have ever seen with the addition of pace'.
"When I was a kid I was school sprint champion, so I had that pace until it was stolen from me. Thanks to the physio with the Midas touch in reverse, I played my entire career when not fully fit, and for much of it on one leg when my knee problems began."
According to the rumour mill, however, it was not Whiteside's lack of searing acceleration as much as his fondness for a tipple that incurred Ferguson's distrust when he set about dismantling the so-called drinking culture that existed at Old Trafford when he descended as Ron Atkinson's successor in 1986. It was a period when a group of players - notably spearheaded by Whiteside, Paul McGrath and Bryan Robson - liked to play hard, on and off the field, giving rise to suggestions that future sporting knight and man of the night were constantly at loggerheads.
"The biggest myth in football is that we never got on. And because I turned down every newspaper offer to spill the beans, people assumed I'd been gagged. The truth of the matter is that there weren't any beans to spill."
And so, instead of taking money under false pretences nursing his gammy knee in the Everton 'stiffs', it was back to school. "I had my knapsack and Tupperware lunch just like any 15-year-old, though I was so embarrassed at first I used to eat my lunch in the car.
"I was frightened to put my hand up to answer a question, but gradually all my classmates started to forget I'd once been Norman Whiteside.
"Talking to you now has brought back so many bittersweet memories. I wrote the book because I wanted people to get to know the real me. I wanted people to know what it was like being brought up on the Shankill Road, what it was like going back into a classroom at 25, what it was like to achieve my honours degree.
"I look back on my football career with great fondness because it's better to be a has-been than never to have done it at all.
"Yes, I regret it ended so soon and often wish I was still out there in the red shirt of United. But the next best thing is just being a part - however small - of the club's great history."