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My Roy Keane Diary: 'A day in the life'

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote RogerMilla Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 30 Sep 2019 at 1:32pm
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Trap junior Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 18 Oct 2019 at 5:49pm
In late September Barney Francis of Sky Television informs me that I will be doing the Manchester Utd v Liverpool game at Old Trafford on Sunday the 20th October.  Barney informs me that this will be my 3rd game doing analysis for them and that for such a big game he wants me to put in a top notch performance. My performances in front of the cameras had been good so far an ratings are up but 'we need something explosive from you for this game'.  He wants me at my best and so has told me 'no sex for a month'. I liked that.  'This guy means business'' I thought.  He wants the best.  I like being pushed to my limit. Mediocrity, a dangerous silent enemy. Let it creep in, standards drop. All too easy. Gone. No coming back.
I instruct Theresa to lock me in my cage coming up to the game. Thank God for her.  She knows how I work. She knows how to train me mentally having read Earl Woods' book on how he used military training to push his son Tiger to his limit mentally. Outside the comfort zone.  That's my home. She will know how to get me worked up.
Apart from dangling and teasing me with lumps of raw meat from outside the cage she taunts photos of Alex Ferguson in front of me and tells me he was right to get rid of me. The cage is rattling as I attempt to attack it.  Another day she plays a looping video of me doing my cruiciate with an Alf Inge Haaland voice recording on repeat over the stereo ''get up! Stop faking it!''  This sets me off and I make a kung fu kick at the cage door but it holds firm. Other tactics she uses include throwing a phone into my cage with it ringing non stop with the screen displaying a picture of of Ellis short calling...On the last day, the morning of the Sky game some men get the cage loaded onto the back of a Sky Television truck by forklift and Theresa shows me various Mick McCarthy press conferences from Saipan on the way to Old Trafford and tells me  I faked injuries to get out of Ireland games. My blood is seething as drool drips from my snarling, raging mouth.'  The stage hands load me in my cage up to the studio where I am let out immediately before we come on air.  I am angry. Very f**king angry. 
David Jones welcomes the viewers. 
''Roy, Sir Alex Ferguson has said that Ashley Young is the best captain he ever had. What makes him such a great leader do you feel?''
The red mist descends. I don't remember much. I wake up in quarantine with a zookeepers trnquiliser dart stuck in my side.
I am given a dose of valium before being released back into the wilds. The phone rings. It's Barney Francis .  '' What the f**k does he want?'' I thought
''Roy! Sensational! Absolutely sensational!  Our highest viewing figures since the start of the Premier League!  Twitter, facebook has gone mad!  We are absolutely delighted!''
''I don't remember it to be honest''
''Oh Roy!  You upturned the table and started biting and attacking the camera lens before we had to sedate you!'' he says laughing his head off.
''Can you do next week?''


Edited by Trap junior - 18 Oct 2019 at 6:07pm
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote ConorMac77 Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 18 Oct 2019 at 8:25pm
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The nation holds it's breath...YES, WE'RE THERE!!!
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Hans Moleman Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 18 Oct 2019 at 8:31pm
The cage and raw meat LOL
"I called him an embarrassment to FIFA and to himself," .... He said 'No-one speaks to me like that'.... and I said, "well I do' and that was that."
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Mr. Snrub Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 19 Oct 2019 at 10:10am
LOL
"Here's Robbie Keane...... yeeeessss!"
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Trap junior Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 12 Dec 2019 at 9:51pm
I hadn't forgot Alfie. I didn't forget that day in 1997 as he stood over me on the cold turf of Elland Road sneering and mocking me while my career lay in tatters. ''Good luck!'' he mocked as I was stretchered off in agony.
Bryan Robson used to tell me to calm down and forget about it.  Even Bobby Charlton.  Theresa said ''let it go''.  She's great.
In December 2019 I was doing nicely in my new job on Sky Television.  Ratings were up.  But sitting in that studio was too sedate for my liking.  I yearned for the battle.  The striving. The hunt for trophies. step off that treadmill and there's no getting back on it.  Life is too quiet now.  Very quiet.  Champions League. Salzburg. News filters through of a young lad by the name of Haaland.  Hello?  That rings a bell.  a relation?  No. Couldn't be.
Michael Kennedy phones me.  ''Hi Roy. Just calling to tell you that I got a call from Barney Francis from Sky and he is delighted with how things are going. Well done.  You been talking to Ole today?''
''No. Why?''
Everyone thinks we are close. Nonsense.  Ole talks a great game.  Scored the winning goal in a Champions League Final.  He lost the plot that day.  Lost the hunger.  He hasn't bought a meal in Manchester since. He's Manchester United manager now.  Don't ask me how, but he is. 
''He's interested in signing that lad Haaland from Salzburg.''
''Haaland??? Is he any relation to Alfe Inge Haaland?''
''Yes. It's his son. He's flying into Manchester today to sign for United Roy. Why?''

The phone is hung up.  People say I harbour needless grudges.  No.
I'm off to Manchester Airport. I have my baseball cap on. Justice will be done this day.
I await the arrival of the flight from Salzburg.  I am waiting in arrivals. Cap pulled down. Shades on. Sign in hand.  'Haaland'.
I'll wait all day if I have to.
I'm not exactly sure what he looks like.  Eventually this blonde haired kid comes through pulling a wheelie travel bag. That's him. Unexpectedly out comes my old pal Alfie. A Brucie Bonus.

''Oh are you my driver?'' He says as he approaches.
''I am yeah.  I've the car out front. Lets go.''
I throw his suitcase in the back of the Range Rover.
I'm driving and he's in the back with him-Alfie.
''So how long have you worked for United?'' he asks
''12 and a half years.''
''Wow long time''.

''We are heading down the M6.  After a while I get a tap on the shoulder.  ''Excuse me Sir are you sure we are going the right way?''  My agent said Carrington is only 10 mins from the airport and we have been driving for 40 mins.''
''Shut up.  You don't remember me do you?  I take my cap off and reveal my face.  I told you I would find you....''

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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote McG Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 12 Dec 2019 at 10:44pm
ffs LOL

The “hello” gets me every time and I read it in his gift grub accent 
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Trap junior Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 14 Jun 2020 at 7:55pm
Spring/Summer 2020

The Coronavirus pandemic forced the closure of schools, shops and restaurants.  We are ordered to stay at home. Football stopped.  Did I miss it? No.  Football today is an industry no different from the oil industry.  Clubs are owned by billionaires in order to trade commodities (players) for massive profit. There was no love of the game. Love of the almighty dollar as clubs became franchises rather than institutions of the local community.  The game was full of bluffers, bullsh*tters and spivs who wouldn't know a football if it hit them square in the face.  I used to like football. Once.

I can pinpoint when I lost my love of the game.  It was a Rockmount U-10 tournament in Cobh one summer.  We were up against local sides from Blackpool, Togher and Cork City's schoolboys.  I had met my manager Tommy Murphy a couple of weeks before to discuss preparations.  We'd do it right this time.  We'd train properly at good facilities and give ourselves a chance.  Cork City Schoolboys would be training on the best surfaces in Turners Cross, eat the right foods. That's what I wanted for Rockmount.  I thought we had a deal.
The first hint of a problem came the week before the tournament.  It was raining and Tommy decided not  to train on the grass but hold an indoor session inside the local community hall.  The floors was slippy, designed for basketball.  I thought it was dangerous.  I wasn't happy.  One of the lads turned on his ankle and would be out for 2 weeks.  I was willing to play the game this night.
Problem. 2 days later we were due to be back on the grass at Rockmount.  It was a glorious June day.  But when we turned up the grass is long and hadn't been cut. 
'They've let me down Roy'.
''Who's they?'' I wondered
''They told me they'd have the grass cut for us but the guy who usually does it had a funeral to go to. There was no legislating for that Roy.''
''It should have been cut 2 days ago Tommy!''

Typical Rockmount, Mickey f**king Mouse.  The usual shambles.  If we are to train its up to me now.  I make a dash home for the push Qualcast and like a fooking madman start cutting the grass in a panic.  Sheer madness and pure rage drove me on that day.  The grass was cut in 25 mins.  I was f**king knackered.  Legs gone.  f**ked. 

We were due to stay the night before the game at the Commodore Hotel.  Murphy had promised me that we would have new kit for the tournament with the team name 'Rockmount AFC' on the front.  We'd look the part.  Told me O'Neills were sending down some of the latest stuff.  I was expecting Adidas.  He calls a meeting in the lounge the night before for the big unveiling.  It's supposed to be a surprise for the squad.  He pulls out this jersey out of a sack like a Paul Daniels magic trick.  The 'latest stuff' turns out to be an array of damaged stock.  'I got them cheap' he boasted proudly.   He starts handing them out to the lads.  Every f**king jersey had something wrong with it.  Derek's had a shirt where one of the sleeves was long sleeve and the other short sleeve.   My shirt had the clubs name ont he front wrong 'Cockmount AFC'.  Every single one had some defect.  No wonder he got them cheap!
I had had enough.  ''Tommy what the f**k is this!''  ''Top notch stuff isn't it Roy!  I thought you'd be pleased!''
''Pleased!?  I'm going to be running around St. Colmans f**king Park with Cockmount on the front of my shirt!  I'll have Jimmy f**king Saville coming over for the game when he finds out!
''Just calm down Roy!''
''Don't f**king tell me to calm down! Do you think Cork City will be running around wearing Cock on the front of their kit or playing in a shirt designed for the one armed man from The f**king Fugitive!
I'd had had enough of this bluffer.  I called home.  Dad, I want to come home.  Call me a taxi.
I stared blankly out the window in silence on the lonely 20 minute journey home. 
'Betrayed by bluffers again.'
My love of the game died that day.
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote NewtNewbie Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 20 Jun 2020 at 2:09pm
I couldn't help but think of this entry when Royston was doing his nut on Sky last night.

Originally posted by Trap junior Trap junior wrote:

In late September Barney Francis of Sky Television informs me that I will be doing the Manchester Utd v Liverpool game at Old Trafford on Sunday the 20th October.  Barney informs me that this will be my 3rd game doing analysis for them and that for such a big game he wants me to put in a top notch performance. My performances in front of the cameras had been good so far an ratings are up but 'we need something explosive from you for this game'.  He wants me at my best and so has told me 'no sex for a month'. I liked that.  'This guy means business'' I thought.  He wants the best.  I like being pushed to my limit. Mediocrity, a dangerous silent enemy. Let it creep in, standards drop. All too easy. Gone. No coming back.
I instruct Theresa to lock me in my cage coming up to the game. Thank God for her.  She knows how I work. She knows how to train me mentally having read Earl Woods' book on how he used military training to push his son Tiger to his limit mentally. Outside the comfort zone.  That's my home. She will know how to get me worked up.
Apart from dangling and teasing me with lumps of raw meat from outside the cage she taunts photos of Alex Ferguson in front of me and tells me he was right to get rid of me. The cage is rattling as I attempt to attack it.  Another day she plays a looping video of me doing my cruiciate with an Alf Inge Haaland voice recording on repeat over the stereo ''get up! Stop faking it!''  This sets me off and I make a kung fu kick at the cage door but it holds firm. Other tactics she uses include throwing a phone into my cage with it ringing non stop with the screen displaying a picture of of Ellis short calling...On the last day, the morning of the Sky game some men get the cage loaded onto the back of a Sky Television truck by forklift and Theresa shows me various Mick McCarthy press conferences from Saipan on the way to Old Trafford and tells me  I faked injuries to get out of Ireland games. My blood is seething as drool drips from my snarling, raging mouth.'  The stage hands load me in my cage up to the studio where I am let out immediately before we come on air.  I am angry. Very f**king angry. 
David Jones welcomes the viewers. 
''Roy, Sir Alex Ferguson has said that Ashley Young is the best captain he ever had. What makes him such a great leader do you feel?''
The red mist descends. I don't remember much. I wake up in quarantine with a zookeepers trnquiliser dart stuck in my side.
I am given a dose of valium before being released back into the wilds. The phone rings. It's Barney Francis .  '' What the f**k does he want?'' I thought
''Roy! Sensational! Absolutely sensational!  Our highest viewing figures since the start of the Premier League!  Twitter, facebook has gone mad!  We are absolutely delighted!''
''I don't remember it to be honest''
''Oh Roy!  You upturned the table and started biting and attacking the camera lens before we had to sedate you!'' he says laughing his head off.
''Can you do next week?''
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Trap junior Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21 Jun 2020 at 1:26am
Lockdown:

In April I am asked by Michael Kennedy whether I'd be interested in minding a friend of his hotel up in the Peak District that had been forced to close for a few months due to Covid 19.  I thought 'why not?'.  Isolation away from the rest of the world seemed great!  I talk to Theresa. Problem.  She doesn't want to go.  Theresa is more outgoing than me.  She didn't like the idea. I call Michael.  ''Yep put us down Michael.  Theresa didn't want to go but its sorted now.'
''Oh what happened?''
''I asked her what did she think we should do, we got down to it and talked about it for 20 mins and then we decided I was right.''
''So that's settled.'' 
''Dick Halloran will meet you up there on Tuesday to show you around and give you the keys''
''No problem.''

Tuesday.
Myself and Theresa take young Aidan up in the car along the long winding mountain roads to the hotel. Theresa is holding a map. 
''What's the name of the hotel Roy?''
''Oh I dunno. The Overlook or something''.
''Oh sounds lovely''. 
Positivity from Theresa.  Just what I needed to hear.  Thank God for her.

We arrive and are greeted by Halloran.  ''Welcome to the Overlook Roy! Theresa why don't you and the boy have a look around our hedge maze for a few mins  I've got to talk to Roy in my office for a few moments.  Don't worry. Purely business stuff. ''
''Wow a hedge maze! Doesn't that sound wonderful Aidan!?''  
Off they go.

Halloran brings me into his office.  ''Coffee Roy?''
''Sure why not'.
''Nice drive up here isn't it?''
''Sure is!''
''I will show you around the hotel in a few mins but first I need to discuss something with you.  Did Michael mention it?''
''No''
Halloran lets out a wry smile and small half hearted chuckle.
''Ok Roy.  Now this will come as a bit of a surprise to you but this hotel was built on the site of an ancient Indian burial ground.  We had a caretaker here donkeys years ago and the isolation got to him and unfortunately he ended up butchering his entire family.''
''Right.  I can see why Michael didn't want to tell me''.
''I thought it was important to be up front with you about this.  I'm sure you can appreciate its a delicate matter.''
''I sure can''.
''I suppose I just want to know if you will be ok with the isolation?  It can get pretty lonely up here.''
''Don't worry Mr. Halloran.  We'll be just fine.  I happen to love isolation.''
''Great! Well let me show you around!''



Thursday.
Aidan takes his tricycle around the corridors.  I'm in the lobby writing up my list of enemies on my typewriter. It's a long list and I need silence to concentrate. I am hoping to release my 3rd autobiography 'Keane-Best of Enemies' in October.  Theresa pops in with some juice but messes up my concentration.  I tell her where to go. 

Friday.
Aidan tells Theresa he has seen some twins near room 237.  She wants me to investigate.  'The Nevilles?'  I thought.
No. They aren't twins.  Couldn't be them.
I tell Theresa there was nothing there.

Saturday.
I have to tidy up the bar area in the Gold Room.  Problem.  There's no drink.  I'd sell my soul for a cold beer.  What'll it be Mr.Keane?  Was I hallucinating people that weren't there? No. Bourbon is ordered and down she goes.  Lloyd even gives it to me on the house. The party is in full swing now until some bluffer of a waiter spills drinks all over me. He comes to the bathroom to clean me up.

''What's your name'' I casually ask
''Grady sir.  Delbert Grady''.
''Grady?  Mr. Grady, haven't I seen you somewhere before?
''I don't believe so Sir''
''Mr. Grady, weren't you once the caretaker here?''
''I recognise you. I saw your picture in the newspapers. You're that caretaker who chopped his wife and daughters up into little bits''
''I don't believe so Sir.''
''You are. I saw your picture. You're Delbert Grady. Listen I don't blame you.''
''I'm sorry to differ with you Roy.  You are the caretaker.  You've always been the caretaker. I should know because I've always been here.''
''Do you know Mr. Keane, that Alfe Inge Haaland is attempting to bring an outside party into this situation?  Did you know that?''
''No''
''He is Mr. Keane. ''
''Who?''
''David Wetherall''
''Mr. Haaland is a very willful boy if I may be so bold Sir.  Perhaps you should correct him?''



Who are these dancers with Roy Keane and Andy ... - RTÉ Archives

Overlook Hotel
'Gold Room'
1921




All bluffers and no world cup makes Roy an angry boy


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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote lassassinblanc Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 21 Jun 2020 at 9:59am
LOL

Makes me actually remember I haven't seen the shining in years 
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Is Aidan not in his late teens now 😀😀😀
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LOL
"Here's Robbie Keane...... yeeeessss!"
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The Shinning 
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Trap junior Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 24 Jun 2020 at 1:16am
YBIG has recently been given exclusive extracts from Part II of the Roy Keane interview out next Sunday with Barry Egan in the Sindo.


B.E. : Roy you mentioned that you were too soft and nice to people.  Can you elaborate?
R.K : Yeah, I probably was too nice.  There were instances that I should have been tougher with people and let them away with murder.  Stuff like that.
B.E. : Any specific examples
R.K: I suppose the few examples that spring to mind would be the Southgate incident in 1995, the Haaland incident and with Mick in 2002.
B.E: You were too nice?
R.K: Yeah. On all 3 occasions I was in the right. Southgate caught my ankle that I had just got stitched up at half time.  A stamp was was too lenient.  I should have broke his legs!! The media try to make out I'm a madman but I showed great restraint in that instance but am given no credit. Haalnd and Mick got off very lightly. 
B.E: What's your beef with Haaland?
R.K:  (Rolls eyes) Are you stupid? 
B.E:  Well I have an idea but would like you to talk about it a little bit of you don't mind.
R.K: I had been out drinking a couple of nights before we were away to Leeds. That was Haaland's fault for starters.  Then he made me try to hack him down and finally he had the turf in Elland Road designed to catch my Hi-Tec studs in the turf causing me to do my cruciate.
BE: So I can see how it was entirely his fault that you let him off lightly a few years later.  Do you have issues expressing your feelings towards people?
R.K:  Yeah.  I guess its my upbringing in Cork being a shy unassuming lad.  I do have trouble telling people when I am disappointed or angry at them and always tend to bottle it up.
BE: So you'd like to express your anger more?
R.K:  Yeah.  Its not healthy to keep it locked up inside.  I have done it all my life. Theresa tells me I need to give out more.
BE: Going back to Saipan. Does that still hurt?
RK: Nah, listen.  It doesn't keep me awake at night
BE: What does?
RK:  I suppose that game in Fairview Park in 1990. We lost 4-0.  To f**king Dubs.
BE: Do you like being famous? 
RK: No
BE:  You must realise you are a celebrity though?
RK: Am I? I don't like publicity
BE: Why are you doing this interview then?
RK: To draw attention to the fact that I don't like publicity
BE: Thanks for clearing that up.  Have you ever met Gerald Kean?
RK: No
BE: You've never gone shopping with Ger? He's fab.  Are you a Prada or Gucci man?
RK: (Roy at this stage of the interview sits in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time staring intensely at me with his eyes turning to little black beads).  I refuse to answer that question.
BE: How's lockdown been?  Drinking Cristal and lots of online shopping?
RK:  I've enjoyed it. I have been using the time to catch up on my grudges.  I remembered a few sleights from some people that I had forgotten. 
BE: Who are they?
RK: Listen (laughs).  If I were to tell you them all we'd be here all night.
BE: What do you make of your public image as some crazed madman?
RK: Who says I'm a madman? I'm not a f**king madman.  Do you think I'm going to sit here and take this sh*t from you you f**king ***t!? I don't lose my f**king rag with anyone!  Who calls me a f**king madman!? 

(The interview ends as Roy leans over and bites my ear off and storms off shouting obscenities. I'm lucky he is a bit soft otherwise I'd have been in his bad books).

Barry Egan is a showbiz journalist for the Sunday Independent

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Roberto Baggio View Drop Down
Robbie Keane
Robbie Keane
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UNBELIEVABLE JEFF

Joined: 28 Jan 2010
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Post Options Post Options   Thanks (0) Thanks(0)   Quote Roberto Baggio Quote  Post ReplyReply Direct Link To This Post Posted: 24 Jun 2020 at 8:14am
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