Eventful journey ends in Paradise

Keith Duggan reports on the arrival of a legend and how it will sit with Glaswegians and the countless Celtic Diaspora.

It was a familiar moment. An innocent question, a smouldering look and then a stinging and accurate retort.

"Are you calling Peter a liar?" Just minutes into Roy Keane's life as a Celtic footballer and already Glasgow's soccer fraternity had its first taste of colour, tension and high theatre. It made you wonder: can Celtic control this man? Can anyone humour the rage that lurks within Gordon Strachan? Just what has Roy got himself into? From one grumpy Scotch boss to another? "Are you saying that Peter is telling lies there?" the flame-haired Strachan continued, warming to the idea of roasting his unfortunate interrogator over a spit.

The Celtic manager was railing against the suggestion that he was personally less than thrilled about Roy Keane's touchdown at Planet Celtic at lunchtime yesterday. The club's chief executive, Peter Lawwel, obviously delighted to have hooked the former Manchester United great, had opened the conference by declaring that club, manager and player were in perfect harmony on why, where and how Roy had come to sign for the famous Scottish institution. And Strachan was intent on reminding the soccer world of the veracity of that statement.

"Well why are you asking that question?" he continued, half-fuming and half-amused and fully prepared to elucidate on the answer in his own quick-fire way.

" But I'll tell ya this for nothing. Because my body language is quite easily read and you can see I am angry at your question. (To be honest, Gordon's body language just read "casual" and "chirpy" rather than angry, reminiscent of his countless appearances on A Question of Sport. In fact, he looked mostly untidy in comparison to Roy Keane, who wore a fine charcoal suit and immaculate black shirt and tie for the occasion.)

" Now, I sat down with Roy in London two weeks ago. Roy's a clever man and if Roy thought anything anywhere near what you are suggesting, he wouldn't be here today. You know? And that's what you get from footballers. Football people tell one another the truth."

Ah the truth: rarely pure and never simple, to paraphrase old Oscar Wilde and possibly Big Ron Atkinson. Still, it must have been music to Roy Keane's ears. It could be argued that the Truth - or at least the unpalatable Jack Nicholson version of it - was what led Roy Keane on this long and strange journey to Glasgow's Paradise.

After the stunningly swift nature of his departure from Manchester United and the following few weeks in the football wilderness, Keane appeared genuinely happy and relieved to be moving on to what will almost certainly be the final phase of his magnificent sporting career.

For many Glaswegian's and the countless Celtic Diaspora, the arrival of a player as respected and as storied as Roy Keane is an intoxicating proposition.

For Celtic fans in this country, Keane's arrival will surely deepen what is already a solemn devotion to the club. There have been voices of doubt, however. The controversial blips through a 15-year Premiership career defined by tough, intelligent and consistently excellent midfield play have been documented to tedious effect. Keane's combustible stand-offs with both country and club over the years have made some Celtic fans and commentators wary of committing to him. And there is a view that shelling out on an 18-month contract for a veteran football with a busy medical history was a risky venture, an issue Keane alluded to in his first hour as a Celtic man.

"I know a lot has been written about my age and my injuries and a lot of people think I am maybe 94. I am actually 34 now and the medical test was quite good, believe it or not," he grinned. "I am here to win football games and to win trophies," he clarified.

"There is no other reason to play. But that is what I have always tried to do. And again, I push myself hard every day and push my team-mates hard. And people were quite happy with that up to maybe a few weeks ago and so you move on and look to your next challenge."

That veiled reference was as close as Keane came to discussing the reason for his departure from Manchester United. Painfully bitter and public as his row with Mick McCarthy on the eve of the 2002 World Cup was, there is the sense from Keane that his cold, formal farewell to Alex Ferguson's dimming empire will remain private.

Keane has too much respect for Old Trafford, for the wonderful career he had there and perhaps even for Ferguson to tarnish that legacy with cheap shots. And, as is frequently overlooked about Keane, for all his brooding intensity, the man is nothing if not an optimist. Bright and charming and patient during yesterday's long inquisition in the Jock Stein suite, it was evident that Roy Keane cannot wait to play football again and that he has already consigned those many years at Manchester United to some private chamber in his mind. He will make his debut for Celtic in the Scottish Cup against Clyde on January 8th, a world away from the bright lights of Old Trafford.

Nonetheless, it will be a marque occasion, even if there are many sports fans who privately hoped that Keane would venture south to Madrid. Yesterday, he revealed that a deal had been close and that he had indeed conversed with "Mr Butregeuno" (Emilio Butregeuno, a Real Madrid vice-president).

There was something magical about the thought of Keane's old-school bossiness and his fiery spirit as the instrument that might just guide the wayward galactico's at Madrid towards greatness again. But, in what might be the most salient reflection on the state of affairs at the vast Spanish club, they needed more time to ponder the deal and could not make up their minds for at least another week.

It could be that if Keane had reunited with Beckham and joined the likes of Ronaldo and Zidane that the lack of cohesion and certainty in the operation would have dismayed him.

With Real out, many Premiership clubs beckoned. But Keane was right to leave that stage behind. He has nothing to prove there. No, Celtic, as he affirmed himself, has a good feel about it. It is nice that after all these years Keane gets to play for the last cheers wearing the green and white hoops that captured his imagination when he was a youngster back in Cork.

"I'm sure they'll love me," he deadpanned with a flavouring of the native Leeside cheek when asked about how he thought Neil Lennon and Petrov and all the other established Celtic heroes would take to his arrival. And they might just, too.

Especially on those seething days at Ibrox.