I WISH HE'D PICKED US

When I was a child, about the time of my first trips to Roker Park, I watched Kevin Keegan captain Southampton. And I was transfixed. Not because he’d won two ballon d’or, won the European Cup with Liverpool and was the England captain, not because he’d been on Top of the Pops, not even because I had about 15 Panini stickers of him that I just couldn’t swap, but because he was the competitive bloke off Superstars.

Young people, check out superstars on YouTube, it’s impossible to believe it was ever a thing. Keegan was cycling on a cinder athletics track, racing against the captain of Anderlecht (no I’m not joking) falls off and after initially appearing fatally injured, he suddenly feels much better after a glass of squash and goes on to compete in something else - probably squat thrusts against Brian Jacks.

He ran the first ever Great North Run in a 50/50 Newcastle/Sunderland shirt to not cause offence… in football boots, yes, football boots. He had to stop near the end and change into a member of the public’s shoes to finish before donating to charity – 50p for every man who beat him and £1 for every woman (in those days that was a lot of money even for a footballer).

He was a charismatic, personable, but really quite normal superstar... but I guess we need to talk about the elephant in the room.

When he signed for Newcastle there were a lot of stories he might have come to us. He chose them and immediately understood North East football. He understood how much it mattered, how if you give 110%, the fans will shower you with love. And a player of that quality playing in the second tier giving 110% inevitably got the team promoted. He was the reason they had their success and what we often call hatred was, if I’m honest, jealousy. Such a personality, the relationship with the fans, I admit I was jealous. His departure after his last game tells you everything you need to know about him and his relationship with that club – it was how it would have been in a movie – if you don’t know google it.

My hope was that his return as manager would lack that larger-than-life personality and that his throw caution to the wind style of play wouldn’t convert to management. As we all know, it didn’t go badly for them, though of course he never actually won anything, perhaps I’d not feel this way if he had. This was partly because of his personality and because his refusal to change his style prevented it. He cared more about the show than the result.

Ferguson famously played to Keegan’s character, pressing all the right buttons to create that incredible melt down on Sky. To have a manager who cared that much is why he meant so much to those fans. It’s why they went, and he listened, when he sold Andy Cole, it’s why they forgave him when they fell at so many final hurdles.

Kevin Keegan was a footballing icon who brought pleasure to those who watched him play and enjoyment to those who watched the teams he managed whether it was those Liverpool 4-3 games or the England Germany 5-1. It was as entertaining and captivating as when I saw him fall off his bike when I was a child. I will always be sad he took the decision he did in 1982 because I wish he’d been my hero and not theirs.

But he was their hero and, for once (twice actually after Bobby Robson’s death), I send them my sympathy and, of course, my sympathies to his friends and family.