The Interior Life of Roy Keane: A Speculative History

"Fuck Ipswich. Ain't a single fucking winner here, hasn't been since Robson and he was a soft cunt."

Roy turned over to face his sleeping partner.

"By Christ you won't mock me!" he gnashed. "Get the fuck out of my house!" Immediately, he realised what he was saying, and contented himself by hitting the unfortunate recipient of his wrath. Hard.

"Take that, you cunt." But it was said reproachfully, as proud Roy Keane, now once more without a club or a purpose, rolled back to face the ceiling and Triggs whimpered painfully in the corner.

At least, that's what Roy always thought these days when he heard whimpering.

I washed the breakfast dishes. Hard. Rasher remnants mocked me, but I showed them. "Have that", I thought, as the plate hit the far wall. Couldn't believe it. I'd put my body on the line for ten minutes cooking that breakfast, and this is what I get. Doesn't surprise me in this game, after all these years- a sausage is just a piece of meat at the end of the day.

That's the thing about breakfasts - you think they're your most important meal of the day, then you turn for a minute and they stab you in the back. Lying betraying cunts, all of them.

The kids are crying again. Soft, they don't know they're born. They've had it all done for them, when I was a kid we built our own kitchen and ate what we could beat out of my parents. Typical, everyone looking to someone else to do it for them. I don't recognise this family anymore.

Walked to the shop today, you see a lot of pros today won't do that. Above it. Cunts. Took 11 items to the 10 items or less self-service queue. Everyone there wanted to, but they didn't have the balls. You could see them thinking it, you could see the headlines the next day- "Same old Roy, picking fights again". It doesn't bother me, I can go back to my family and they know who I am. I make sure of that. Cunts.

Nice big brick, these cunts, these cunts, think they're above me with their poofy edible food, but you can't beat a nice brick for pre-game nutrients. Wonder what the FA will do if I Haaland the shite out of Mowbray.

i play soccer

i like dogs

got a wife and kids

what else is there to know

fuck off

hahaha you cunt :D

gna turn noel gallagher into a waspish 19th century civil libertarian

like i said i'm a simple man at the end of the day

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fuck off

lad wickham being a nuisance

you know you live and you learn

time was i'd have broken the cunt's legs

but like i said i'm a simple man

I looked at the mirror. Looked. This was fucking typical. A mirror put here on a Tuesday morning, and of course I had to bloody look in it. I phoned the gaffer and he agreed it was ridiculous. Since day one it had been like this with Ireland. Mirrors. The blame game. Late goals. Can Robbie save us again? Well I was fucking sick of it now. Do you think Ruud was stood in a hall two days before a game, looking at a fucking mirror? I ate a cheese sandwich which Bernard O'Byrne had left for me and packed my things.

Murdered. We had lost before we began. Men against boys. Children. Men. Fucked. Who told us Kidderminster were AC fucking Milan? A team of postmen and farmers, but hungrier for success than us. Tougher. Faster. Hungrier. Us - useless. A waste. Finger pointing. Not my fault. Whose fucking fault? The gaffer was right. We had been asking for this for months. In the post. Cunts.

Autograph hunters. Asking. Wanting. Needing. You could see it in their face. Same old story. You know what they're thinking. "Same old Roy. He's thinking 'you know what they're thinking, but he doesn't, I'm thinking of something else." Confusing. It didn't matter. In the end they'd find a way to spin it to the papers yet again. "Roy, he's thinking about thoughts," whatever way it went I'd be the bad guy. The villain again. Well fuck it I thought, this time I'm not going to be the bad guy. Not the one to blame for once. I punched the man repeatedly in the face. I'd done it. That's Roy, they'd all say. Sure it is. Roy. That's him. Not anymore I told myself. Never again.

A bailout. It had been on the cards for weeks. Everyone thinking about it but nobody says a word. Yorkie had been raving on about bringing down the banks, but he wasn't even fucking Irish. That was Yorkie for you. Cunning.

Stupid.

Black.

White.

A chameleon. Trustworthy. Angry. Red. Afraid. Useless. No chance.

Ireland had been a joke for years. A laughing stock. I'll have a car. A telly. A mortgage. Loans. Money. Values. Fucked, the lot of it. I phoned Bernie Slaven and he agreed it was ridiculous. John Byrne was unavailable for comment. Retired. Lost the fire. That was Byrney for you. A male human being in his 30s, that was Byrney all over.

We'd talked about it. Worried. You knew, we're skint. The IMF on their way. A man approached me in Dublin airport. A journalist. Rag. Snooping. What did I think? He got his quote, I was in favour of rape. Spun his way. Roy the politician. Quote Santa Claus. Well I'd had enough. Christmas could fuck off and I was going to Mallorca with Theresa.

I phoned Donal McNamara at Liffey Travel and he booked me on a flight.

A phonecall. A man from the FAI says I need to rewrite my autobiography in complete sentences, avoiding using one word or disjointed non sequiturs to show the matter of fact nature of my anger. Confused. Challenged. Furious. I phone the gaffer. Discussion. He tells me it's a problem. I'm raging. He won't back me on this. Faith. Years. Not repaid.

I start off and it's extremely difficult but I begin to get used to the new style and after a while I'm motoring along with a few hundred pages done whereby I outline my thoughts on the modern game, the modern footballer, and football itself.

I find a messageboard on the internet. People impersonating me. Them. Me. In text. This is complete bollocks. I phone Tony O'Leary at Eircom and ask him to take a look. Tony has always been there for me. A rock. A friend. Not technically employed by me. Strange. I phone him. Regularly. About the internet.

Michael O'Rourke calls. Someone in the Times has written an article about horses.

jesus...need to have a lie down now. tired. jaded. roy.

damn seems like roy has interiorized tom humphries' voice. can't fucking. think. speak. everything in short sentences. fuck off.

like i said it's a disgrace to be honest with you. at the end of the day people can say what they like. i'm my own man with my own mind.

yeah it is a bit like humphries! tho in the book that is how lots of the anecdotes seem to go.

having enjoyed privileged access to roy keane's interior life for 24 hours thanks to a guide dogs for the blind charity auction, i can confirm he actually thinks in a florid joycean stream of consciousness

ROY KEANE last night sealed a swoop for the man everyone loves to hate - and he cannot wait to let him loose.

El-Hadji Diouf arrived on Wearside to complete his £3million switch from Bolton and become busy Keano's fifth summer signing.

King-of-bling Diouf is the type of star Keano would have loved to kick lumps out of during his playing days.

But the Black Cats chief said: "El-Hadji is a great signing for us and we're thrilled to get him. He has bags of Premier League and international experience, which is exactly what we've been targeting.

"El-Hadji has always been the kind of player opposition teams and supporters love to hate, a thorn in the side, and that's why we're delighted to now have him in our squad.

"Our coach, Ricky Sbragia, has also worked very closely with him and speaks extremely highly of him.

"I think he's a signing that will excite our supporters."

I start off and it's extremely difficult but I begin to get used to the new style and after a while I'm motoring along with a few hundred pages done whereby I outline my thoughts on the modern game, the modern footballer, and football itself

haha, beautiful

don delillo should write a novel
abt roy keanes inner life

anyone ever seen roy keane in the same room as rorschach?

A bailout. It had been on the cards for weeks. Everyone thinking about it but nobody says a word. Yorkie had been raving on about bringing down the banks, but he wasn't even fucking Irish. That was Yorkie for you. Cunning.

Stupid.

Black.

White.

A chameleon. Trustworthy. Angry. Red. Afraid. Useless. No chance.

Ireland had been a joke for years. A laughing stock. I'll have a car. A telly. A mortgage. Loans. Money. Values. Fucked, the lot of it. I phoned Bernie Slaven and he agreed it was ridiculous. John Byrne was unavailable for comment. Retired. Lost the fire. That was Byrney for you. A male human being in his 30s, that was Byrney all over.

We'd talked about it. Worried. You knew, we're skint. The IMF on their way. A man approached me in Dublin airport. A journalist. Rag. Snooping. What did I think? He got his quote, I was in favour of rape. Spun his way. Roy the politician. Quote Santa Claus. Well I'd had enough. Christmas could fuck off and I was going to Mallorca with Theresa.

I phoned Donal McNamara at Liffey Travel and he booked me on a flight.

― I see what this is (Local Garda), Sunday, December 12, 2010 12:37 PM (5 hours ago) Bookmark

POST OF THE YEAR!

Esp for "That was Byrney for you."

http://www.carolyndonohoe.com/sketches.html

http://i.imgur.com/U0GRL.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/FXNcU.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/tF98m.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/Ddi1n.jpg

he'd maybe want to look at monobrow as an option tbph

that's the last photo cuz he then made eye contact with the photographer, who instantly froze to death

hit in with a nice meducer early doors

i always think that if you didn't know who roy keane was and saw a black and white picture of his face you'd think it was from the 19th century.

potato exporter during famine face

hit in with a nice meducer early doors

wow

gah typo, i always do that. does give me a joycean vibe if looked kindly upon tho imo

http://i.imgur.com/BzXiI.jpg

ronan you hero

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/football/article-1339161/Manchester-United-v-Arsenal-clash-rubbish-insists-Roy-Keane.html

kinda feel he's becoming (or become) a choad whose impressive rage and meanspiritedness doesn't rly conceal the banality of his 'opinions'

well, yeah? that's been no secret since prob his last year at utd/autobiography

what's your fuckin problem

you get these kids on the 'net' thinking they can set the world to rights

don't know they're fuckin born to be honest with you

said to theresa the other day, why don't they manage their own fuckin team, try getting yr garden squirrels to play 4-3-3

didn't reply

she knows

fuck off

guys I can't write as keane but imo this would be great topical material

Manchester United Manager Alex Ferguson was sitting a few feet from the Red Bulls striker Thierry Henry, a guy who usually gave Ferguson fits when he played in the English Premier League for Arsenal.

“We plan to sort Henry out by bringing back Roy Keane,” Ferguson said to a chorus of laughter, referring to his stoic, stone-wall Irish midfielder of years past.

like i said ive got no issues with the boy

sees the seppos are ripe for a fleecing and lines his pockets

time was i'd have broke the cunt's legs

but like i said you move on

he's a good player and a good lad y'know like

i've no problem at all with what he did, no problem at all at the end of the day. He went to the world cup, he wont worry about ireland at the end of his career at the end of the day

You can blame Henry all you want but where the fuck was Packie Bonner? An FAI official told me he retired in 1995. I said nothing at the time but inside I was laughing my head off. This was typical of the Irish setup. The keeper had retired in 95 and we had not had a keeper since. They could fuck off. I texted Con O'Rourke at Hibernian Insurance and a moped arrived at my house.

fuckin ghostwriters are all the same

comes in with his dictaphone

like i said i speak my mind

then this crap they come up with its all nonsense to tell the truth

fuckin 'typical' this and 'texted' that

I don't actually own a phone. I've never bought a moped from Con O'Rourke, but has he helped me out at times in my private life? Well that's for me to know to be honest.

triggs.

Fucking triggs.

Cunt

You can blame Henry all you want but where the fuck was Packie Bonner? An FAI official told me he retired in 1995. I said nothing at the time but inside I was laughing my head off. This was typical of the Irish setup. The keeper had retired in 95 and we had not had a keeper since. They could fuck off. I texted Con O'Rourke at Hibernian Insurance and a moped arrived at my house.

― Nult In My Name (Local Garda), Tuesday, March 29, 2011 11:28 PM (Yesterday)

magnificent

The wind blows over the cold marble. There is silence besides. The decayed and decaying corpses of birds and woodland animals litter the shingled square and the adjoining lawn.

Roy sits in the bushes, watching. Thinking. Fuming.

Iceland. Fucking Iceland. Twenty years a pro, twenty years at the top, and now Iceland.

A joke. Sick.

They only sent that clown McCarthy as far as the West Midlands, but Roy had to go to Iceland. Even that langer Kerr only had to go out as far as the Faroes.

Geology. Ingólfr Arnarson. Denmark or Norway, who fucking cares. Sunsonssonssonssons on every fucking jersey. Laughable. Fuck them, the lot of them.

A crow lands on the stone. It wears the face of John Delaney. Roy relaxes, aims, exhales slowly.

crack

Crow-Delaney falls to rest alongside the others. A bead of ichor runs down the face of the marker. It will dry to black, like the others, now almost fully obscuring the carved lettering.

TRIGGER

True friend. Warrior soul. Guide dog of the year 2003

'They'll never take 2003 from us, Trig', Roy whispers fiercely, softly.

A tears rolls down his camouflaged cheek.

It is September 2011 and Roy Keane is going to Iceland.

You can blame Henry all you want but where the fuck was Packie Bonner? An FAI official told me he retired in 1995. I said nothing at the time but inside I was laughing my head off.

lol

wah is this actually happening please god

A crow lands on the stone. It wears the face of John Delaney.

Applause. Also Ronan on this thread = AMAZING.

nakh- no indication that this is going ahead, sadly. Reports state he missed the interview, in fact.

Pandemic- ronan's even better in the scholes thread imo.

God yeah, I remember that thread. The Noel one too.

sometimes wonder if this, noel and scholesy shouldn't be on ile tbh

Meh, they're on site-new-answers and for those who know nothing about Britishes, they're somewhat obscure.

quality tells imo

kind of don't want to post on this thread but these are completely delightful for this guy who knows nothing about britishes or "footie"

i think it would be a good 'hook' for our growing board

uh oh knows what's up

"If an opportunity comes up in the next few months, I will be ready for it. I am only 40. If chairmen and chief executives do their homework, I'm sure I have a chance," Keane told the broadcaster.

DO YOUR FUCKIN HOMEWORK, SUITS

Suits. Chairs. Parker pens and Rolex watches. I wrote a letter to Pat Rowland at Permanent TSB about the whole sorry mess.

itv. fuck off.

Sunderland goalkeeper Craig Gordon, who was signed for £9m in 2007, is one of nine players released by the club.

The best goalkeeper in the Prem for one season according to the football version of sabermetrics!

Which I think boiled down to percentage of shots from inside the penalty area saved. Maybe it was shots from the opponents penalty area tho.

That's a shame. He was a good keeper too, made the odd easy blunder but that never stopped Shay Given.

iirc if it wasn't for Utd signing de Gea he'd still be one of the five most expensive goalies of all time

is he permacrocked or has he just been dropped lately?

i remember that save he made from a shot about a foot away from goal, that were good that were.

sorry, wrong interior life thread.

hes had a lot of injuries

£9m was a lot tho

listen,

fuck off

Roy Keane will make a surprise return to management with Turkish side Kasimpasa.

The former Manchester United captain has been out of the game since being sacked by Ipswich last year.

But Keane, who has forged a career as a television pundit, is set to be announced as the Istanbul side's boss on Sunday.

Turkey can fuck off an all

I phoned Imre Belozoglu and he agreed it was ridiculous. Did anyone think Hasan Sas was eating doner fucking kebabs?

Looked at the paper, couldn't fucking believe it. They'd discovered my remains in a fucking car park in Leicester.

well

it's hard not to be a little bit excited, or to imagine we might go out and scare better teams with bogball once more. it's all we know ffs.

can the fai really afford the new top o' the range training cones though

Im obv conviced this will be better than trap. And christ its interesting.

Twenty quid for tickets still, think i'll mark the occasion.

Yeah at the very least it's got more meat to chew on than Trapp's babbling and trolling.

I think Trapp's philosophy just wasn't us, like there are countries who would want their team to be grinding out 0-0s, we aren't one. It's not even that we crave amazing football, just nobody in Ireland will tolerate the team not "having a go". Prob cos tbf we have a history, especially at home, of beating good sides.

I also don't think we necessarily have an awful side, we had a p hellish draw for this World Cup.

If (failed attempts at, lets be fuckin clear here) 0-0 draws was the best i thought our squad could do i couldnt gaf re having a go, but yeah there's an element that detested the attitude alright.

But there was so much else grievious about traps approach that you'd have to take a number and wait tbh.

yeah it was just a pay cheque. i don't think he came out of with much credibility, apart from the fact he seems to be v popular with journalists.

best case scenario: common sense management, solid focused stuff, enough tactical leeway for coleman/mccarthy/brady etc to grow into seniority, maybe get a bit extra out of flakes like mcgeady

worst: tone-deaf long balling, plodders too sure of their places, unhinged keano becomes new trap, bans singsongs on the back of the bus, poisoned atmos with mon gabbling lame duck like at sunderland

easily the best option available now whichever way it goes

Good cop / bad cop element of this relationship potentially a very fun dynamic, running to your mama when your dad gets soused and gives you a clout round the head for getting grass stains on your Sunday best.

https://scontent-a-ams.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/249019_10151762284318907_2047088640_n.jpg

good

best case scenario: common sense management, solid focused stuff, enough tactical leeway for coleman/mccarthy/brady etc to grow into seniority, maybe get a bit extra out of flakes like mcgeady

prescient imo

just reread this entire thread and was about to make the exact same point about that post.