Apr 2, 2010
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“Rrrrrring rring, rring rring,” the phone buzzed by the side of his bed. He rolled and woke up, yawned, and picked up the phone.
“Hello, Roy Keane speaking, how may I help you?”
“Hello Roy, it’s Marcus, I need to speak to you. In person. I’ll see you at 1.” Roy rubbed his eyes. It was late June, he was having a break. What was so important that the chairman wanted to see him? He sat up on the side of his bed, pushed himself up, and got his best suit on. He grabbed a coffee and an apple, and rushed out to his car. He got in and drove, and turned the stereo on. Playing was the “Wings Greatest” album his wife owned. He didn’t listen to it often, but his wife had left it in the car, and he was in a rush, it already being 12:15, and he needed to go. It was the last song of the album.

“Mull of Kintyre, oh mist rolling in from the sea
My desire is always to be here
Oh Mull of Kintyre”

He smiled, and drove on.


“Mr Keane, I’m afraid to say that we don’t think you’re the right man for the job. We would ask for it to be kept a Mutual Termination of your contract. I’m sorry.” The bespectacled board member told him in a squeeky voice.
“You’re sacking me?”
“Please Mr Keane, don’t kick up a fuss, we don’t want your or our credibility rubbished. It is a Mutual Termination.”
“I don’t ******* agree to a “Mutual Termination”. Bollocks to that.”
“We don’t need that kind of language, Roy. We’re getting rid of you. If you don’t agree to a Mutual Termination, we’ll have to sack you.” This was the chairman Marcus Smith talking. “ We’re sac- parting company with you now to bring in a man we believe will do a good job, and so he can gell his team well.”
“Who?” Roy had lost all of his anger. He didn’t care anymore. Not like he had any emotional ties to Ipswich. He could find somewhere else.
“Billy Davies. He’s agreed to a contract already, and he’s on his way. The press already know he’s left Notts Forest.”
“Nottingham.” said Roy in a pedantic way, but also musing. What if..?
“Not Notts Forest, Nottingham Forest. Anyway, release your statements sacking me and hiring Davies. I’ve got a phone call to make.”
“Who to?”
“Nigel Doughty.”


“Who is this?”
“It’s Roy Keane mate. I’m calling to apply for the job.”
“Oh, OK. Erm, where are you at the moment? I’ve got an interview free tonight at 9:30 or tommorow at 3.”
“I’m in Ipswich, but I’ve got my car. I’m be there this evening. See you then.”