SOCCER ANALYST:Most managers, certainly the best ones, always have doubts about their decisions, particularly in their judgment of players

HAVING WORKED with Roy Keane in my time as Republic of Ireland manager, I was intrigued when he agreed to go to Sunderland and join up again with Niall Quinn, an adversary, of course, in Saipan.

I had no doubt that he was an incredibly intelligent football man, but I wondered if he would have the people skills and patience to deal with the numerous personnel he would be forced to deal with each day, like club administrators, agents, media, and unhappy players with long faces.

I thought back to his often deferred arrival to our training camps, delayed by the management of the injuries that plagued him in the latter stages of his career, by his relationship with Alex Ferguson, who was less than enthusiastic about Roy returning for Ireland, and the other demands on him.

It was all a nuisance to me in the build-up to that campaign, but once he arrived his commitment and application to the job, his professionalism and cooperation, were first class. Still, I wondered how he would see things when he became a manager, having to deal with all these complications.

Following in the footsteps of those who had managed Roy - Brian Clough, Jack Charlton, Alex Ferguson and Georgie Mellerick at Cobh Ramblers - I perceived this as just another chance to deal with a player seen as being awkward to work with.

When I got the job I set about trying to smooth a way back for the brilliant Corkman, even though, personally, I disagreed with his stance and non-participation in the 2002 World Cup finals. But it was a clean slate for me, I never had any issues with Roy.

From the beginning, after his return, his outstanding personal characteristics were obvious to me, his honesty, his intelligence, his observational ability and his love of family and place.

Yes, there was a complex side to him, of course he was opinionated and strong-willed and had his views as a player on what was appropriate preparation time for games at international level, which was always quite limited anyway. He regularly disagreed with my demands, but he did his best to comply.

Sometimes he surprised me. Unfortunately, I paid too much respect to his vast experience and his knowledge of the game when I accepted his commitment in advance of the qualifier away to Switzerland to "nail" Hakan Yakan.

To my surprise, he failed to grasp the essential requirement of his role that day, to deal with the deep-lying Yakan, a thorn in previous Irish sides. His enthusiasm led him to areas of the field that resulted in him neglecting his main task. Having taken an early lead through Clinton Morrison, we then conceded to - yes - Hakan Yakan. I was forced, at half-time, in to outlining my frustration with Kevin Kilbane and Roy's lack of defensive responsibility. The criticism was accepted and we were a more controlled and disciplined unit in the second half.

But I learnt a lesson that day, that a manager must clearly define every player's role, no matter what his reputation, experience or past brilliance.

I thought of that game again last week when I watched Sunderland against Bolton, Roy's last match in charge. Looking at the line-up and tactical approach, it was difficult not to be shocked by the lack of balance in the team selection, especially in midfield, and the shambolic nature of the defending. Wise counsel seemed in short supply on the bench, and as a young manager Roy Keane needed wise counsel.

He made many mistakes, his transfer policy and constant chopping and changing of the team did not stand up well under close scrutiny. But many of those misjudgments could have been avoided if he had taken on an assistant with much greater experience than Tony Loughlin.

Many of the people I learnt from and admired in the game were people who always had serious doubts and, so, surrounded themselves with those who challenged their opinions and observations, while being hugely supportive. And being challenged in that way is crucial.

Even Alex Ferguson, over the years, has chosen assistants who were anything but yes men, among them Archie Knox and Walter Smith. And I'm certain that even Ferguson, Jose Mourinho and, as we see at the moment, Arsene Wenger and Phil Scolari, are racked with doubts in their quieter moments about their style and methods and judgment. But the fear of failure drives them on obsessively.

Roy needed someone who would advise him and challenge his hunches on players he signed, the earliest ones mainly people he had played against or with - Dwight Yorke, Liam Miller, Graham Kavanagh, David Connolly, Stanislav Varga, Ross Wallace, Paul McShane and so on. Not to mention some of the more recent signings who fell in to the "wide boy" category.

I spoke with the singer and political activist Billy Bragg in Dublin on Thursday night, after he played at Vicar Street. "Don't trust anyone who has no doubts," he had said earlier on stage when talking about the Conservative party and its leadership. It's true, you have to worry about anyone who has no doubts. And it made me think of Roy, in his statements and interviews, when he appeared to have no doubts at all.

But most managers, certainly the best ones, always have doubts about their decisions, particularly in their judgement of players. In that situation wise counsel for a young manager is critical, especially when he's working in such a hothouse of an existence that is the top two divisions in England, where he is responsible for the hopes and dreams of a city's population.

Players have a relatively handy life - turn up on time, train and play to the best of your ability and stay out of nightclubs, or at least stay out of trouble in nightclubs. But it's some shock to the system when you turn to management and the demands and extraordinary commitment required in that role.

Very suddenly players you might have regarded as "cheeky chappies" in the dressingroom in your playing days become an irritation, their imperfections a constant source of annoyance. The task of dealing with each individual and his personality becomes a monumental one.

Roy, like many managers before him, would have dealt with some of that exasperation by going out and signing new players, but there just wasn't enough emphasis placed on their character. People like El Hadji Diouf, Pascal Chimbonda and Djibril Cisse had a history of dodgy behaviour and application, but still they were brought to the club. Again, there was a desperate need for wise counsel.

Having said all that, given the narrow line between mid-table respectability and Sunderland's current position, I'm surprised Roy walked away. He stated recently that he wasn't a quitter, yet he has quit. He clearly, though, discovered that football management is a lonely and difficult place to be when results are going against you, particularly so on those long drives home from games, and no matter what support is available when you enter your home the disappointment and frustration is hard to clear from your head.

But he achieved a huge amount at Sunderland and he deserves massive credit for the increased profile and respect the club now enjoys as a result of his work and personality. That is the legacy he has left them.

Will he return? Well, Roy has the football bug in an intense way, certainly more than the many players who have absented themselves from the madness of the coaching or managerial side of the game. When one has had the highs of his achievements after years of struggling along the hard road towards perfection, it's not easy to put the slippers on and settle for the slow lane. I hope and think he will be back, having learnt a lot, reflected and readied himself for a new and interesting challenge.

This story has a long way to run.