Keane stands for something real–that’s why he matters
THE GREAT affliction of the modern world is the terrible fear of actually saying something. Politicians, for example, speak fluent waffle (ready-made phrases and cliches) to avoid saying what they mean. But the new language is everywhere. Full-time employees are now, apparently, ‘ whole time equivalents’.
Many sportsmen, journalists and pundits have surrendered to this meaningless drivel; a manner of speaking George Orwell warned was imminent unless radical action was taken to prevent it. There are exceptions, though. One of them is Roy Keane.
ITV bored everyone senseless with their soccer coverage until Keane was unleashed. Quickly, halftime with Adrian Chiles and Co became unmissable. Watching Keano in studio is like watching an animal in captivity.
Imagine, for a moment, how he would have reacted to Yaya Toure’s complaint about not getting a decent birthday present from Manchester City?
When Keane takes his pitchfork to the tide of political correctness, jutting his jaw out and eyeing his fellow panellists like Travis Bickle in
Taxi Driver, we don’t get off our sofa to go to the loo or make tea.
Nani is ‘a quick boy to go down’. Alex Ferguson, meanwhile, ‘doesn’t know the meaning of the word loyalty’. In his most recent autobiography, Ferguson said that after he had ‘slaughtered’ his teammates in an MUTV interview in 2005, Keane insisted that the squad watch it together.
Aftereards, he got to his feet and asked his teammates if they had anything to say, before clashing angrily with Ruud van Nistelrooy, Edwin van der Sar and assistant manager Carlos Queiroz. He ended by slating Ferguson for bringing his private life into the club, referring to his ill-fated dispute with John Magnier and JP McManus over the racehorse Rock Of Gibraltar.
Ferguson wrote in his book that Keane’s display was ‘frightening to watch. And I’m from Glasgow’.
When first went to England (Nottingham Forest), it completely became apparent that he was a force of nature. Totally unselfconsciously, he blazed his way through soccer.
George Bernard Shaw wrote: ‘The reasonable man adapts himself to the world: the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man.’
So when he went to Manchester United, Keane became the team’s symbol, its dominant force. This unsweetened win-at-all-costs approach has always been at his core.
Remember his withering attacks on Ireland’s players and supporters after the European Championships? ‘They all have to change their mentality. It’s nonsense to hear players speaking after the game about how great the supporters are. I’m not happy with that nonsense. To praise the supporters for the sake of it. Let’s change that attitude towards Irish supporters. Let’s not just go along for the sing-song every now and again.’
Unable to conceal his utter contempt, he concluded with the spiteful remark that this was ‘a reality check for a lot of the Irish team. A lot of them think they are top players. It goes to show how far they are behind’.
Recently, he made identical comments about Arsene Wenger’s Arsenal. The soccer world, giggling nervously, did not acknowledge that he was only saying what was true.
When he was Ireland’s greatest player, he abandoned his teammates, preferring to walk his Labrador Retriever through the suburbs of Manchester while ‘the sheep’ went on a glorious adventure in the Far East.
United were great as long as they were winning and Roy was doing well.
When his end neared, however, Keane did what he always does and attacked his old teammates. He has brought the same cold focus and lack of loyalty to his (so far) shortlived managerial career.
A perfectionist, Keane will never understand politics or people, which is what makes him unsuited to management.
FERGUSON, on the other hand, was a shrewd politician and excellent man-manager. He handled Keane with care in his best years as a player because he needed him. When the Cork man rang from a police cell needing to be bailed out, Ferguson sorted it. When the unmanageable Eric Cantona became available, Fergie bought him, then coaxed several titles out of him in spite of the karate kicks and the many suspensions. Keane is not capable of such pragmatic management. For him, the world is black and white.
Keane is very bright, but he has the self-control of a volcano, making him one of the most compelling figures of the modern sporting era. He also instinctively distrusts others and it is impossible for his peers to live up to his own Herculean standards. When they don’t, he cannot help but scorn them for their weakness.
This, of course, makes him totally unsuited to top-level management, where man-management of spoiled boys is a critical quality. Celtic, therefore, will suit him just fine – for a while. Then again, Postman Pat could manage them to a Scottish title at the moment.
With the Keane brand, Celtic will gain instant worldwide credibility, giving them a newsworthiness and commercial boost way beyond their true status.
You’ve got to love him, even if you hate him, because he stands for something real and says exactly what he means. If George Orwell were alive, he would (rightly) describe Keano as an evangelist.
The Celtic fling, however, will end in tears. With Roy, it is inevitable.