IT’S ALL LOOKING GOOD for Wembley Stadium. The FA chief executive, Adam Crozier, admitted that there had been delays and difficulties with the construction of the new ground, but said that the problems had finally been sorted.
According to Pelé, such a statement would not have been made 30 years ago. I refer, of course, to the TV advert in which the great Brazilian gestures towards a football stadium and tells us “One thing was never discussed there — erection problems”. This is followed by the phone number of an advice centre that will help a man to do something that the Wembley people could never do — get a stand up before Christmas.
When I first saw that advert, I was very impressed that Pelé would let himself be associated with such a delicate subject. Football is a very macho environment, after all. But then he sort of spoils it. He looks to camera and says, “Get more information. I would”. Not “I did” or “I will”. Pelé’s “I would” is clearly chosen to communicate the message that he would do this IF he had erection problems, but obviously he does not.
Oh, if only Pelé, with his big, sad eyes, did admit to erection problems during the advert. How marvellous that would be. But in football, a world where a ball kicked into touch always leads to players from both sides appealing for the same throw-in, honesty is rare. This is why I’ve been a bit reluctant to join in with the recent press attacks on Roy Keane. There seems, to me, to be some sort of raw honesty informing his behaviour. One might even say “In Keano veritas”.
Take the Jason McAteer incident, for example. McAteer is — once again turning to TV advertising for my information — a very tolerant man. Though the world may be full of all sorts of cruelty and injustice, there is, we are told, but “one thing that Jason won’t tolerate, and that’s dandruff”. Despite this assurance, there was clear evidence, last weekend, of at least one other thing that Jason won’t tolerate — and that’s being elbowed really hard in the earhole. Keane’s attitude to Head and Shoulders, it seems, is specifically concerned with separating one from the other.
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Anyway, my point is that we all knew why Keane did it. How could we not know? The post-World Cup, post-book feud between these two men was very public. It was an elbow waiting to happen. Violence, of course, is always horrible but it’s hardly a rarity on the football pitch. Keane’s brand of physicality causes such uproar not because of its severity but because of the almost theatrical clarity of its context. People know that players carry out acts of physical revenge, but they still like a bit of doubt to hide behind.
Likewise, everyone knew what the Alf Inge Haaland tackle was about, but they didn’t like having their noses rubbed in it. People seem more affronted by Keane spelling it out than they are by the actual tackle. The general view seems to be “we know these things go on, but he should never have said so”.
Personally, I like honesty in an autobiography. If, rather than financial gain or macho cred, neither of which he’s short on, Keane’s motivation for the Haaland confession was, regardless of fine and suspension, some blind obsession with telling the truth, you have to respect him. This doesn’t mean you have to respect everything he’s honest about. I enjoyed his attacks on prawn-sandwich eaters and spoilt footballers more than I enjoyed his attacks on McAteer and Haaland.
But now there’s a twist in the tale. It seems that the Keano’s honesty-horse has been abandoned midstream and now his ghost-writer, Eamon Dunphy, is claiming that he made up the Haaland confession to add a bit of colour to the book. Now come on. It’s bad enough that footballers can’t be bothered to write their autobiographies but you’d think they’d take the trouble to read them. It looks like the messenger is happily stepping forward to take the bullet. To me, this is much worse than the original admission of vicious intent. I really hope the United man thinks better of it. I can respect honest Keano but passing-the-buck Keano is harder to admire. I mean, how far will this subterfuge go. Let’s look at, what I understand is, the offending Haaland passage.
“I’d waited long enough. I f****** hit him hard. I think the ball was there. Take that, you c***.”
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If I was involved in the affair, I’d suggest that Mr Dunphy takes advantage of his own staccato style and claims that, although Keane said these things, they had nothing to do with Haaland. They were, in fact, his answers to the following four-part questionnaire.
1. Why did you walk away, leaving your dog standing at a lamp-post, while Ireland played Germany in the World Cup?
2. How did you help Jason McAteer to dislodge the last few stubborn flakes of dandruff, left behind despite constant shampooing?
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3. Why did Cinderella go to the palace?
4. Who’s your favourite boy band?
Of course, Roy Keane may now be in a private hospital room, recovering from his hip operation, as the anaesthetic lies unused in a corner. He may read this and start to get miffed. What a scary thought. I hope he knows this was ghost-written by Danny Baker.