It is impossible to see what was in this deal for Roy Keane, husband, father, son, brother, human being, writes Kathy Sheridan.
Why did Roy Keane agree to the book? Whose advice was he acting upon when he made the decision that would expose him so cruelly? It was surely not the act of a friend.
"Unlike people, dogs don't talk shite," he says in the book. "They won't betray you or otherwise let you down." But who, ultimately, has let him down?
The man who subjected himself to the ordeal of a lengthy television interview during the World Cup was demonstrating more than a smidgen of concern for his reputation. If he was the indifferent, arrogant, obnoxious boor often portrayed, he would hardly have put himself to the trouble.
Whatever about his self-deluding arguments, that television appearance was living proof that he cared, not just about family, Sir Alex Ferguson or world domination, but about how ordinary people perceived him. He wanted us to see him and hear his voice, to leave us with an impression of sincerity, concern, commitment and a sense of honour. And he did. Many were won over. Those who resisted were at least persuaded that his beliefs were sincerely held.
Now, fewer than three months later, are we supposed to believe that Roy Keane suddenly doesn't give a toss anymore? Where were his friends and advisers when he presented to his ghostwriter and publisher the gift of an admission of premeditated violence - "a moment of pure savagery" in the words of a commentator - perpetrated on Manchester City's Alf-Inge Haaland, all tied in a bow with the comment "Take that, you ****" as he surveyed Haaland's distress ?
Whether the fact that Haaland has managed only 48 minutes of football in the 16 months since can be laid at Keane's door is highly debatable but it was unquestionably a deliberate, career-threatening lunge. Surely any half-decent professional could at least empathise with another on the loss of his livelihood ?
Far from it. We know from Roy's own words that he had waited three years for his moment. . .
Was Roy Keane fully cognisant of his actions when he made that horrendously damaging admission? This is no Vinnie Jones, after all, seeking to build a reputation on the basis of thuggery and tacky videos. Was he advised to think it through, to peer through the mist of self-justification all the way to the headbangingly predictable outcome? An outcome that would shred his reputation in the eyes of ordinary people and would leave him open to possible legal actions as well as FA charges of bringing the game into disrepute?
Sir Alex, his boss and mentor, who gave the book his full imprimatur before publication, surprised no one by shrugging it off, prattling about Haaland attacking Keane in the press (as if that somehow evened things up), saying that he saw nothing wrong with Keane's actions "whatsoever" and that he should be praised for his "honesty".
Hardly helpful comment from a mentor for a man whose demons seriously threaten his engagement with the world. On the other hand - and most importantly perhaps, for Sir Alex - these are doubtless the same demons which push Keane to the limits on the football pitch.
Sometimes, Sir Alex, there are damn good reasons for bottling it and for Roy Keane, this was one of those occasions. As Johnny Giles put it, there has probably never been a football autobiography quite so honest - or disturbing - in what it reveals about the state of mind of its author.
As for the "honesty" argument, is it not a tad compromised when it just happens to be the juicy titbit, the unique selling point in the pitch to the publisher, the one that will pull in the newspaper bids for serialisation rights and offset the reputed £1.4 million sterling advance to star and ghostwriter?
But the funny thing is that one thing Keane is not short of is money. If this was about clearing debts, making the family secure, building a pension fund, it might be understandable. But what's a million pounds to a man on £70,000 sterling a week?
So was it about evening up old scores? Now, that would be seriously annoying to the little people. For if that was the purpose, could he not have kept his beak shut, played the bloody World Cup and won it for us, and given his, um, misgivings the full lash afterwards, in the book ?
At any level, it is impossible to see what was in this deal for Roy Keane, husband, father, son, brother, human being. Does he really pepper ordinary conversation with so many f***s and c***s? Did he think he was going to enhance the image of the "beautiful game", God help us?
The man described as the most talented and successful captain in modern-day British football is more famous now for his vendettas - vendettas that could spill out to incite Manchester's two sets of supporters to violence and tarnish the game, according to the players' union chief executive, Gordon Taylor.
And for what? Maybe Taylor got closest to the mark : "While it may make good copy and profits for the book publisher, it puts Roy in a bad position. . ."
But if there's nothing in it for Roy, the question is, who advised him?