Authors: Roy Keane,Roddy Doyle
The disappointments are remembered more than the highs. They’re what spur you on, because they hurt. I enjoyed the victories, but took them with a pinch of salt. Especially in the Premiership, you’re always going, ‘God, look who we’ve got next week.’
Then it changed.
‘Fuck the draws – let’s go and win.’
We lost a lot but we won a few we wouldn’t have been expected to win. We didn’t have many draws – and they’re actually vital. The attitude was all or nothing. But it worked. I appreciate that it doesn’t always work, but I wasn’t thinking that way. It was, ‘Let’s go for it.’ Even when we were 4–0 down at home to United, I was thinking, ‘Let’s have a go at them.’ I knew the players’ strength, and the fans wouldn’t have wanted us to be defensive.
From a tactical point of view, we should probably have been more cautious. But what had got us promoted, and what gave us a bit of early success, was having a go. You need a feel for your club, and Sunderland was all about having a go. Sunderland really did suit my personality at that time. I was up for it and full of energy and I felt that the Sunderland fans were right behind me.
Getting players in was the most important part of our preparation for the Premiership. But there were other issues, too. Where could we improve? Could we travel better – do we fly to more
matches, and stay in better hotels? We were going to London now, and Manchester, and Liverpool. The year before we’d been going to Colchester and Southend. It wasn’t arrogance. It was a fact – we’d be travelling to big cities.
Could we get better medical care? Did we change the bonus schemes for staff? Would we want better training kits? The whole club improves – the badge on your kit is now Premiership. The whole package. The excitement of the supporters when the fixtures were published – Tottenham, Liverpool, United in the first five matches. And we’d be playing Newcastle – the derby.
People had told me about it.
‘Oh, the derby up there.’
It didn’t disappoint. It was the best derby I’ve ever been involved in, up there with Celtic and Rangers. And we’d be going to Middlesbrough, too – another derby.
As a player I’d had plenty of experience of the grounds we’d be visiting and of the quality we’d be playing against; I’d only retired the year before. And we’d some players with similar experience, like Dwight Yorke and Kieran Richardson. The important thing was not to be intimidated, or worried about the occasion, or even overwhelmed. Expectations were higher now, and the players would have to live with them. You wouldn’t hear the Sunderland fans saying, ‘As long as we stay up.’ They’d have their targets – ‘Once we beat fuckin’ Newcastle,’ or ‘We have to beat this team.’ The players had to realise that they deserved to be where they were, and not to be overawed.
Our first game was at home to Tottenham, live on Sky. We won. 1–0. Brilliant. Michael Chopra scored, in injury time.
A newly promoted team really does need a decent start. You need points. If you fall behind in your points per games figure – one point a game – it’s a fucker. But, straightaway, we’d three
points from just one game. We drew at Birmingham midweek, so now we’d four points from two games.
‘What’s the fuss? What’s everyone frightened of?’
This was great.
Then we go to Wigan – ‘Fuckin’ Wigan?’ – and they turn us over, 3–0.
‘That’s what it’s about.’
Wigan bullied us. They were big and strong. Heskey was up front, and Kirkland in goal. These were England players.
Then there was Liverpool.
Then United.
Now we had four points from five games.
Then we beat Reading. Seven points from six. We went to Middlesbrough, and drew. Eight points from seven games. Blackburn. We were robbed. Eight points from eight. Not too bad; I’d have taken that. Then we lose to Arsenal, then West Ham. Eight from ten. We draw with Fulham. Nine points from eleven games – now we were chasing our tail.
We’d played Birmingham the previous season, in the Championship. But this time – our second game in the Premiership – we’d only four players starting of the eleven who’d played for us the year before. It’s hard to let lads go when they’ve done well for you. But it’s the game. Characters get you promoted, but you need more than characters in the Premiership. You need skill, talent, pace, luck.
Immediately after we were promoted I was thinking about new players. Even while we were celebrating in the dressing room.
That’s the hard side of life for many footballers. It was sad, and I wondered how I was going to tell them. But, then, it’s a business, and I wondered if I could get good money for them. I’d have to speak to their agents. Hopefully, there’d be takers for them. It was
no good deciding that, say, three players wouldn’t be staying if no other clubs actually wanted them. It seems brutal, but they’ve been part of a promotion team, so it almost guarantees them a good move. It’s one of the hardest parts of management – shifting players.
I had five or six weeks off, but I was still making and taking phone calls. In some ways, holidays are a nightmare for a manager. I made the mistake – and I made the same mistake the following year. I was all summer making phone calls. It was pointless, because everybody was away anyway. Agents, chief executives, medical staff – right across football, they’re all away. I never got a deal done during the summer. I should have left the phone off, and checked in now and then. I’ve read since that Arsène Wenger switches his mobile off when he’s on holiday, and just turns it on for an hour in the evenings. I wish I’d had that wisdom, or common sense, at the time. But I was thinking, ‘I’d better be proactive, I’d better be busy.’
I should have been thinking about the quality of the calls, not the quantity. It was inexperience. I wanted to be keen, and I wanted to do well.
‘Oh, if we don’t sign this player in July, he could be gone.’
I’d a list of players, lads playing in the Premiership, that I gave to Niall when we were promoted. I thought it would be easy. But it wasn’t. They wanted too much money but we weren’t giving out mega-money. We’d made progress, but we couldn’t go from one extreme to another. We didn’t want to go the way of Leeds or, later, Portsmouth. And Sunderland had been in difficulty until the Irish consortium took over. The top player at Sunderland was on less than twenty grand a week. It was decent, but a lot a players were looking for forty or sixty. So I had to start accepting that we weren’t going to get the players I’d thought we would.
We got permission to speak to David Nugent. He was at
Preston and I’d seen him, against us, the previous season. He was a decent player, although not a massive goalscorer. I met him at my house in Manchester, with his agent. I thought the house was a better option, less formal. We’d agreed a fee – I think it was four million.
So he’s, ‘Yeah, yeah – big decision for me – thinking it over.’
Fine – no problem.
I was doing my Pro Licence at the time, and on my way back home a few weeks later I got a call from David Nugent’s agent: ‘He’s undecided. Harry’s in for him at Portsmouth.’
This was Harry Redknapp.
So I said there was no pressure but it was only a couple of weeks before the start of pre-season, and there’d come a point when we’d have to make our minds up.
I had to bring it to a head another few weeks later. This was David Nugent, by the way; he hadn’t become Messi. But he was a good player and we wanted him.
So I rang his agent.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘Harry’s in for him.’
I went, ‘Yeah, I’m aware of that. But we’ve been in for him for three or four weeks.’
And he said, ‘Just to put you in the picture. Harry’s away this weekend, on his wedding anniversary. He’s been married for forty or fifty years and he wants to speak to David when he gets back.’
I said, ‘I’ll tell you what. I’ve waited three or four weeks, and now you’re asking me to wait because of Harry Redknapp’s wedding anniversary? We’re pulling out of the deal.’
The joys of management.
We got Greg Halford, from Reading. I shouldn’t have signed him. He came in for about two and a half million – a decent fee for a full-back. Reading had bought him from Colchester but he’d hardly kicked a ball for them – not a good sign, but it was a
sign I ignored, thinking I’d be different. It was a young manager’s outlook; you think, ‘I’ll be down with it.’ You’ve been playing until recently, so you look at players as a player looks at players, not as a manager. The older you get you realise that the lads who bring baggage bring baggage everywhere. So you can’t be bothered with them – unless they’re brilliant. Greg had done well for Colchester, against us; he was a talented boy. But I should have gone with my gut feeling. He came into my office in Sunderland, and I didn’t like the way he sat down. He was crouched down, too laid-back.
And he asked me a few questions.
‘Who else are you buying?’
I should have been asking him the questions. Six months earlier he was at Colchester. He should have walked up to Sunderland. I should have sent him on his way. But we signed him. We’d agreed the fee, and the wages. It’s common practice – everything is agreed before the player actually comes to the club to meet you. The player and his agent have the cards. Brian Clough would never agree a deal until he’d met the player – ‘We’re not having you.’ Players did have agents back then but Brian Clough wouldn’t have tolerated them. He managed at a time before players’ agents had the power they have now. We were newly promoted and Sunderland was a bit remote; we had to dangle carrots for people.
I didn’t like him after that. I thought, ‘Not for me.’ But I signed him! I was finding out slowly that certain players suit certain clubs. And Greg Halford wasn’t a Sunderland player. Sunderland people are hard-working, roll your sleeves up – I appreciate that even more since I left – and Greg wasn’t that type of player. He wasn’t a roll your sleeves up, work your socks off player. He was about dealing with the ball, coasting through the game, and just doing enough. He’s had a decent career. I saw him at Forest recently and he played okay.
When I first discussed players with Niall, we were going down the list. But the lads we were after wanted bigger money, or they wouldn’t come up to Sunderland. So we moved on to players like Greg Halford. We needed a bigger, and better, squad; we needed more numbers. There’d be more demands, more injuries – the games would be physically more demanding, more intense. You also need a big squad for training numbers. I was hoping that Greg was better than what we already had. In particular, we needed another defender, a right-back. We wouldn’t be getting players from Chelsea or United; that might come later on.
Trying to get good players in became very frustrating. The wise thing to do is to step back from it a bit, and this is where you need a good chief executive. I had that at Sunderland, Peter Walker. He got deals done – and Niall. Everything was – and this is a big word for me – transparent.
‘Roy, it’s not going to happen. He’s asking for sixty grand a week.’
‘Forget about him. Move on.’
We were after Darren Bent.
‘Roy, they want sixteen million. We can’t go to that.’
‘Okay, let’s move on.’
I still think that if we’d bought Darren Bent then, at the start of the ’07–’08 season, I’d still be the Sunderland manager. He’d have got the goals. But it was too much money. They bought him later, after I’d left, because they’d had another year in the Premiership so they had more money to spend. The longer the club stays in the Premiership, the bigger an attraction it is to players, and the club can start to afford the higher wages.
There was one lad who didn’t even get back to us. The word ‘shopping’ was used. His wife wanted to live in London.
There was another lad, Matt Taylor. I showed him the Stadium of Light, brought him to the boardroom. He told me he had other
clubs interested in him. I walked him to his car, told him to take his time with the decision.
I was walking to my own car when I got a text – from Matt Taylor. I could see him, still in the car park, driving out.
I’ve decided to sign for somebody else
. He’d been telling me fifteen seconds earlier that he was unsure about what to do. He went to Bolton.
On the other hand, I met Leighton Baines at a hotel in Sunderland. He was leaving Wigan. We’d made an offer and it had been accepted. The first thing he said to me was, ‘Roy, if Everton come looking for me, I’ll be moving to Everton, because I’m an Evertonian.’
And I went, ‘Okay.’
I appreciated it.
We bought Kieran Richardson from United. He was a good signing, but it was tricky. I had to meet his dad a few times. Kieran was making a few demands; he wanted a certain jersey number, he wanted to take the penalties. His ego had to be stroked a bit. He did well for us and scored the winner against Newcastle the following season; so he’ll always be remembered for that.
Craig Gordon was the big name. He came in from Hearts for massive money, nine million – a record for a goalkeeper at the time. Craig was the only player I’ve seen being applauded off the training pitch, in all my career – by his own team-mates. It was after his first training session. Nobody could score against him and, it being his first session, we were all watching. We needed a number one goalkeeper; we were in the Premiership – ‘Aim high.’ He was amazing.
Brian Clough bought Peter Shilton for big money and said that Shilton had saved Forest twelve points a season. Clemence, Schmeichel, Shilton – top teams have top goalkeepers. I think I underestimated the importance of keepers when I was a player. It wasn’t that I took them – Schmeichel or Packie Bonner – for
granted. But I expected them to make big saves. But then, when you’re not working with a top keeper – ‘Fuckin’ hell!’ – you appreciate them a bit more.
Kenwyne Jones came in from Southampton, for six million, and they got Stern John as part of the deal. Kenwyne did brilliantly for me – and he hasn’t done much for other managers since. I think the fact that Dwight Yorke and Carlos Edwards, lads from Trinidad, were already there helped Kenwyne to settle in.
Danny Higginbotham came in, from Stoke. He could play left-back or centre-back. Tony Pulis gave me all the crap – ‘Oh, he’s my best player’, all the silly games, trying to get the fee up. But we eventually got Danny. He could score from set pieces, too; he had a good leap. He got a couple of important goals for us.