Keane leaves us wanting more in new book
But whilst Rio Ferdinand might have needed such gimmicks to promote his own tale last week (what do you mean you didnāt even realise?) the headlines which greeted Roy Keaneās The Second Half show that true star quality doesnāt come manufactured.
The fights and bust-ups gained most of the media attention but tales of Keaneās fall-outs with Peter Schmeichel, Carlos Queiroz and Alex Ferguson are by now old hat to seasoned United watchers. Whatās interesting is to compare Keaneās version with that in Fergieās book: both are actually fairly similar but with the obvious difference that in Fergieās, he renders himself all but blameless. Where does the truth lie?
One ex-United team-mate of Keaneās rang me on Monday evening eager to find out what had been said about him and when I replied, āWell, youāre mentioned in this bitā¦ā, he reeled off the tale almost exactly as Keane ā not Fergie ā had described it.
Obviously Keane has an advantage in being able to āreplyā to earlier accusations. Take Fergieās description of his captainās waning powers: āWe tried to alter his role by discouraging him from charging all over the pitch. He could see the truth of [it] but to surrender to it was too threatening to his pride.ā
In The Second Half Keane insists: āMy role was changing. I was now more the sitting midfielder. I think the manager and Queiroz might have had their doubts about whether I had the discipline to do the job [ā¦] but I was comfortable in the position.ā
Throughout Fergieās book there ran a pitch for work on the lecture circuit: managing change. The Second Half is similar in that Keane is pitching for future employment too; he seems desperate to try and convince everyone that thereās more to him than just the thuggish footballer that heās often portrayed as. This is evident right from the start: the lawyer who nailed him on the FAās disrepute charge following his 2002 book was āabsolutely brilliant; he had me on toastā. In the toilet beforehand āhe was dead politeā ā it was all just ābusinessā even if it was brutal, just as Keaneās own hard man image and behaviour on the pitch had been. The continual underlying message being āthereās more to me than just a ranter and raver, Mr Chairman. Iām not really just some loose cannon yāknowā.
Also apparent is Keaneās vulnerability and insecurity. A surprising obsession with money comes to the fore, as does his constant feeling that he isnāt good enough and always has to prove himself. Thereās a brilliant insight into Keaneās mindset in passages describing his angst and self-destructiveness: āMaybe Iām like every man on the planet ā I donāt know; I want a bit more than whatās on offer. My mid-life crisis has been going on for years.ā
Part of that will also see his humour at play, something thatās sprinkled throughout but will often pass undetected. One instance comes after Bobby Charlton witnessed a late-night hotel brawl he had with Schmeichel, for which Fergie carpeted them. ā[Charlton] could have tried to break it upā is Keaneās deadpan line.
Despite the many fascinating snippets there remains a feeling that there shouldāve been many more. There are only 11 lines on the Coolmore-Rock Of Gibraltar affair (albeit containing a hint of menace) and the chapters on his time in management too often just read as a boring run through of games and results. Itās interesting that the defeats come with a notable degree of blame or ābad luckā attached ā not something Keane the player wouldāve subscribed too. You sense that heās lost, or at least contained, much of his venom ā almost everyone is āa nice ladā or someone āI likedā ā and he gives the impression of having found an inner peace and being happy in his new roles with Ireland and Villa.
So we end with Keane back in his footballing comfort zone, where he also stayed when opting for Celtic after Real Madrid came calling in 2005. Sometimes you wish heād take a different path and branch out into other things, and really give himself one of those challenges he likes so much.
Unlike with Rio, you sense it wouldnāt end up with him promoting daft ā5ā baseball caps.





