This week's inductee to The Cult was the Premier League's first genuine superstar, a man who helped to build Alex Ferguson's Manchester United empire. Few had the ability to match King Eric on the pitch; fewer still possess the courage to walk away as he did. You can read previous entries here.There is one truly memorable piece of football advertising that stands out from my childhood. Launched by Nike in 1994, it appeared in a variety of places: on leaflets nestled beneath your new Tiempo boots, among the sacred pages of Match magazine, and amid the ad breaks that punctuated Champions League ties.But the one that has stuck with me was a 14-by-48ft billboard that towered over a busy roundabout in my hometown. Initially, it grabbed my attention because of the blood red Saint George's Cross that provided the backdrop to an otherwise black and white image. This was not only visually arresting but borderline provocative: I lived in a town 30 miles west of Swansea, where you rarely see the English flag in such a vibrant, unblemished state.But while the backdrop was unfamiliar, the figure stood in front of it was instantly recognisable. To an eight-year-old, Eric Cantona was among the most famous and enthralling men in the world. The Frenchman was perhaps the most significant player in the young Premier League, the star player at champions Manchester United and an enigmatic maverick to boot. Cantona oozed nonchalance yet was capable of things that could only have come from hours of practice and dedication. He wore his collar turned up in defiance, a symbolic middle finger to the conformists of this world. Cantona was unquestionably the best and he did not give a solitary shit about what anyone else thought.Read more on VICE Sports.