The Second Half by Roddy Doyle, Roy Keane Page A

manager and the club. There was a picture being painted that I was some sort of head case. If you were on the outside looking in, you’d be going, ‘Saipan, now United – he is a head case.’
    I was thinking about my family in Ireland. I knew what Cork was like. The news would be all over the place. In ten minutes. My family in Cork are big United fans; the effect on them was going to be massive. You’d have thought they’d have been used to it after Saipan. But my parents – it was going to be torture for them. All that media intrusion again. Outside my house. Outside my parents’ house. People going, ‘Oh, right, he’s gone off on one again.’ And I remember thinking, too, while I was driving home, ‘Ah, I’ve got the club car here – I’ll have to give it back.’
    It was an Audi A8 and I really liked it, and I was going, ‘I have to fuckin’ give the car back.’
    If I’d known more about the consequences, if I’d known that I wouldn’t be able to play again until January, I would have stayed. I’d asked the manager if I could play for another club. This was the man I’d worked for, for twelve and a half years. I’d like to think he’d have known his stuff, and I do think that he had a responsibility to know what he was letting me in for. Or, he could have said, ‘Roy, I’m not sure. You’d better ring the PFA before you leave here today.’ But he’d gone, ‘Yeah, yeah – ’cos we’ve torn your contract.’
    When I got home I rang the PFA and they said they’d look into it and they’d let me know after the weekend. That worried me – my head was spinning.
    ‘Fuckin’ hell, Roy,’ I thought. ‘That was another clever decision’ – walking out without my position properly clarified. Not that it would have changed my mind; I think I’d have gone about it the same way.
    I should have said, ‘I’ll train and Michael will do the negotiating. We’ll see how it goes. And, in the meantime, I’ll ring the PFA.’
    I would have been a good pro, I wouldn’t have been awkward. I’d have done my training. But I also thought, ‘The manager knows me.’ He might have said to David Gill, ‘Show him that statement’ – to get my back up. He knew my character as well as anybody.
    The hours were going by. I was at home. Michael rang: ‘Look, Roy, we’re struggling here. They reckon there are cash-flow problems in this.’
    Ferguson has said since that they honoured the contract. But they didn’t. I lost a lot of money that day. I was on a million pounds’ incentive if I played in 50 per cent of the season’s games. I wouldn’t be getting that now. They said they agreed a testimonial. But that had already been agreed months before. There was a confidentiality agreement, but I wasn’t paid for that either. My silence cost them nothing. There was no benefit to me financially. They were going to pay my wages. But not in a lump sum, just normal wages. I’d have liked whatever money I was due up front, a lump sum, instead of still being on the wage bill till the end of the season. A clean break – that would have been good. But Michael was now talking about cash-flow problems, so I knew it wasn’t going to happen.
    I remember saying to Michael, ‘Michael, I’m not fuckin’ interested in the money side of it.’
    He came to my house later that afternoon. He was as white as a ghost; he still couldn’t believe it.
    I said, ‘Michael, it’s for the best.’
    And he went, ‘Well, I believe you, Roy.’
    I had to put up a front, in front of Michael and my wife and family. I was the tough guy; I had to play the role that day – even though I’d been crying in the car a few hours earlier. I was trying to hide my hurt from my wife, although she’d have seen right through me.
    There was also an element of relief; it was almost over.
    I said, ‘No, it’s for the best.’
    And, actually, it was for the best. Whatever happened or was said afterwards, the timing was right. We’d come to