Peter Corrigan: A nation pays for one man's self-obsession

It will be of consolation to anyone battered by confusion over the uncivil war in the Irish camp that Roy Keane will not be carrying his burning resentments into World Cup action next weekend. There's no telling what his destructive self-obsession might have achieved had it been confronted by others than his own countrymen – opponents and referees, for instance.

We can leave the details of the outrage to those more intimate with the Irish squad (such as Matt Holland whose column is on page four) but even from 8,000 miles away it was clear that the player was hell-bent on provoking his own repatriation. Several of his sendings-off have had the same air of inevitability.

Stories abound that his mood was fired by personal problems which might become more clear when the tabloids are published this morning. It would not be the first time that rumours have rushed to fill the gaps in our understanding of such events, and it certainly would not be the first time they have proved totally unfounded.

In any case, it would have to be a sensational revelation to justify the merciless way he delivered this crushing blow to the team and to the anticipation and enthusiasm of countless thousands of Irishmen, many of whom are making the long and costly trip to Japan. Keane may have convinced himself that, in the long term, his patriotism was better displayed in exposing the frailties he perceives in manager Mick McCarthy and the Football Association of Ireland than by leading a forlorn campaign into the finals for which they all, he especially, worked so hard to achieve. Such a view would only prove how rabid his selfishness has become. There have been pre-World Cup rebellions before, notably by the Dutch, but in its scale and viciousness this one-man revolt is unprecedented, and whatever personal dimensions it carries there is also a persistent echo of the escalating conflict between club and country.

That Manchester United were reported to have sent a private jet to Japan on Friday to collect Keane adds a "beam me up, Scottie" flavour to the proceedings. I doubt that Old Trafford would have warmed to the lurid nature of the affair but, whatever rehabilitative work they need to do on his emotions before next season, they won't be sorry to have him back sound in wind and limb.

It is hard to avoid the impression that while modern World Cups captivate hundreds of millions around the globe, dozens of fretting super-clubs are interested only in the safe return of their star players.

For years, decades even, we have been aware of this disputed ownership syndrome, and the heavily increased value of players has done nothing to ease the situation. It was bad enough for the smaller countries 80 or so years ago, but the relationship is dangerously fraught these days and even England suffer.

In recent years, some leading players have been drawn into it; particularly those who represent countries whose chances of winning are slight or less. Wales comes to mind.

You can recognise the dilemma. There's not a great deal of satisfaction available to a star player moving out of a glamorously successful club environment into a comparatively rustic regime with his country. The travel, the surroundings, the coaching and the standard of the players around him all take an inevitable drop in quality. Most players accept that as the price of patriotism.

There's another price to pay. International caps once brought a dramatic rise to a player's income. Perhaps they still do with the major countries but, generally, they fall within the peanut range for the big-money players.

From what I read of Ireland's World Cup pay structure and potential bonuses, Keane would have been hard pushed to earn the equivalent of half his weekly wage from Manchester United even if the team enjoyed a decent run. I am not saying that the money aspect made the slightest contribution to Keane's state of mind, but we can also be sure that financial inconvenience was not a restraining influence. What I find least forgivable about Keane's outburst is the slur it leaves in its wake. I'm sure that mistakes have been made in the Republic's build-up to the World Cup, but to suggest that these bear a distinctly Irish trademark is absurd. I know from my own experience that bungling officialdom is commonplace among the other FAs of these islands.

I haven't been on the road with England for a while, but they were just as capable of making ham-fisted arrangements as any other country and I suspect their new varnish of sophistication only thinly covers a capacity to do so again. Getting a World Cup squad out to the Far East while attempting to blend acclimatisation with retaining morale and fitness levels among weary players was always going to be a massive logistical problem. There's hardly a camp which hasn't suffered as a result of the strain, as the Swedes will testify.

The quaintness of football administration in this country dates back as far as the game itself and the international achievements of all our tribes have been due to the ability of our legendary stars to rise above the rule of the ham-fisted.

One of the prized memories of a long career reporting football was accompanying the Republic's adventures under Jackie Charlton in the period covering the 1988 European Championship in Germany and the 1990 World Cup in Italy.

That it was a true delight was in no way due to the slickness of the organisation. Happy-go-lucky is the kindest description I can muster, but they did incredibly well and it is not a formula anyone should seek to change.

One of my journalistic companions in Italy was Eamon Dunphy, the former Irish international, whose criticism of Charlton's playing methods was harsh. Nothing wrong with that, but when McCarthy moved from the heart of Ireland's defence to take over from the great man he also inherited Dunphy as perpetual critic. Nothing wrong with that, either, but Dunphy is writing Keane's book and so completes a lethal double-ration of malcontentedness.

The game need critics but there comes a time when one's own views become peripheral to the need for a united effort. The World Cup is prime among such times. Players will always find it hard to resist comparing the tactical comfort of club football with the game-plans forced on international managers by the talent at their disposal, but the compromise is essential. There resides in most of us resentment at aspects of our employment and we are happy to display our frustrations; preferably when no one but fellow sufferers are listening. But this is usually a unifying factor among colleagues.

Keane's carpings are aimed upwards, downwards and sideways and condemn everyone in sight, whatever their status. This is not a saving grace.

He must be almost as unpleasant to play with as he is to play against, and to interpret his actions and attitude as perfectionist is to ignore the vigorous indiscipline that makes him anything but.

In a team game, some players are bound to emerge as better equipped and more dominant and demanding than others. Coping with such imbalances lies at the heart of good management and also forms the most part of a captain's duties.

At this stage there can be only one conclusion: that McCarthy was absolutely right to cut this disruptive element from the heart of his squad. Keane doesn't even have the beginnings of an argument.

Hooligans in rail danger

If only the Keane saga was the last trouble to be met on the way to the final on 30 June. Police are openly anticipating problems from a section of the 8,000 English fans despite 1,000 known louts being kept back.

Troublemakers are being warned that the Japanese authorities will not deal lightly with offenders. It is a warning the hooligans will do well to heed – the Japanese might want a railway building.