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This is getting serious. Roy is living in my dreams. Every night he appears and we have to "have a chat". He's mad for the chats. It's like a recurring episode of Northern Exposure in my head.
He first showed up on Tuesday Night. It wasn't so bad. it was good to see the lad, to be fair. We hadn't met since 94 in The Western Arms in Ladbroke Grove.
We were in a crowded dressing room. He'd found an old letter to him from Alex Ferguson written in 1993, and he'd just opened it and read it for the first time. It told Keane that if he quit the booze and the chicken suppers he'd win three European Cups. Now Keane was annoyed with himself, tearful even. He thought Fergie was right. He'd left the Gaffer and himself down.
It fell to me to his Guru. I told him that he'd got every bit of performance out of his body over a glorious career and besides, if it wasn't for Ferguson's bad tactics in Europe they'd both have won four of five Cups. He bought it.
"To be fair, Brian, at the end of the day, you're right". I went to hig it out, but i got the brush-off and the steely stare.
Still, I was pleased with myself all day Wednesday. Not often you can help out Ireland's greatest footballer. He's not a bad lad, really. Calmer these days.
Things changed Wednesday Night. Roy showed up again. I thought he looked embarrassed, clearly he wasn't happy with needing a nobody like me for a Guru. He'd grown the beard back to look wiser. He berated and scoriated me to absolute smithereens for not scoring enough in my Urhan GAA career. I pointed out that I was a goalie and had emigrated when I was 15. He spat his contempt at me. I was fairly taken aback, I don't mind saying. I felt like Phil Neville.
"A Goooooal-ie! A Goooooal-ie! You're giving me excuses? You're a jokeshop boy!!!"
Thursday, he was at it again. This time the conversation turned to an ex-girlfriend of mine and why I'd broken up with her. He tore the ears off me with another Roy-rant.
"You don't know what you want, kid! You can't hesitate in moments like that! You caaaaan't, boy!"
We only met up briefly in Friday's dream. We were on the sideline together looking after a U-14 Hurling Team. Egos had been bruised, wounds were raw. We swapped head-nods and left it at that.
I sat him down last night. I was worried about him, and I told him as much. He was going to wake up dead unless he chilled out. And, being honest, he was getting to be boring, and the lads were talking. To give him his dues he took it like a man. I recommended that he read some of Gandhi's writings and put away the Nietzsche for a while. He hummed and hawed for a while but in the end he agreed.
"C'mere Brian, yer still a langer and y'know it.... g'wan so, and we'll go for a pint" And we adjourned to Mok's for a few roasters of Beamish and a read o' the papers.
The man is tough work, and I'm worn out from being his Guru, but I think I'm making progress.
"The opposite of love, after all, is not hate, but indifference."
Judas...sorry Roy. The man who let his country down in 2002. Threw his dummy out of his pram because the facilities weren't up to Manchester united standards. Brilliant footballer but flawed character!! To give him his due though he's a decent pundit and if you'll excuse the pun , pulls no punches!!
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Five Nights with Roy Keane on 14:27 - Jun 28 with 738 views
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