Holding Midfield
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With the release of his second autobiography, the football news has been flooded with an abundance of stories from Roy Keane’s career. Individually, they are quite amusing – him deciding against signing Robbie Savage when his “whassup” answering machine message reminded him Savage is a terrible human being or the realisation that a move to Celtic might not be everything he had hoped when he found poor John Hartson stuffing his face on the bus – but the more you read, the worse Keane appears. With each snippet, it becomes more and more clear why Keane has failed as a manager – the deeply-ingrained joylessness must make him a exhausting to work with, however justified his criticisms are. He increasingly comes across as a footballing Holden Caulfield, claiming superiority on endless negativity to the extent that you simply start to pity him. This makes it as good a time as ever to remember when he was a leader of men rather than the leader of edgy VICE-reading psychopathy-fetishising manchildren. And when it comes to that, there’s no greater example than the victory over Juventus that sealed Man United’s place in the 1999 Champions League final. United were still fighting on […]
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