Having covered Sunderland throughout Roy Keane’s reign, Chief Sports Writer SCOTT WILSON gives a first-hand account of life with the most opinionated man in football.

IN my decade as a sports writer, I thought I had seen pretty much everything that football could throw at me.

Nothing, though, had prepared me for life with Roy Keane.

Normally, a manager’s prematch press conference is a matter of routine. You turn up, exchange a few pleasantries, check on the injury situation and listen to a succession of pre-arranged platitudes that avoid anything that could be deemed remotely controversial.

With Keane, though, the weekly trip to the Academy of Light was a firework-filled verbal joust. Anything could happen, and more often than not it did. But God help you if you hadn’t done your homework, or if you momentarily lost track of your thoughts.

There were times when Keane tried to play the playground bully, and even though you were sitting ten yards away from him, it was possible to imagine how Alf- Inge Haarland must have felt as the Irishman lunged for his knee.

Earlier this season, I made the mistake of forgetting that Danny Higginbotham had signed for Stoke, rather than joined the Potters on loan.

“Is Danny free to play against you this weekend?” I asked. “I should think so,” he glared. “He’s their player.

That’s what I talked about in my book. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail. You take your eye off the ball, and that’s what happens. You need to raise your game”

A colleague at The Journal fared just as badly when he asked Keane why pace was so important in the modern game. “So you can get to the ball quicker,” was the sharp response.

The worst Keane put-down came in a post-match press conference at Reading.

Sunderland had lost 2-1, to a disputed late winner, and an ageing Berkshire journalist tried to make a name for himself five minutes after the game.

“You must have been disgusted by what you saw out there Roy,” he said.

“What, with the referee?”

queried Keane.

“No, with the performance of your players. How can a Champions League winner watch a performance like that?”

“I suggest you have a long hard think about what you’ve just said. I don’t know who you are, or who you write for, but that’s possibly the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t know if you normally watch Real Madrid, but you clearly need to think more before you speak.”

The silence that immediately swept across the press room spoke volumes.

Yet for every Keane putdown, there was a nugget of wisdom that would make the whole thing worthwhile.

There was no small talk with Keane – he repeatedly told us he didn’t want to know our names and guarded his mobile number with his life – but the trade off was that when he did speak, nothing was off limits.

I can’t remember him ducking a question once, and he spoke with a bluntness and honesty that has all but vanished from the modernday game.

His comments on WAGs, Jack Warner, the Irish FA and referees made back-page headlines around the world.

Plenty of people thought the same as him, but no-one dared say the things he would say.

His briefings were mustsee events, and it was a privilege to listen to an opinionated footballing legend giving his opinions on the game.

If he was interested in what you were saying, he would debate for hours on end. And if he wasn’t, it didn’t take him long to let you know.