In For The Hat Trick

This morning, Roy Keane announced he’s leaving his coaching role at Aston Villa to concentrate on the Republic of Ireland’s campaign to qualify for the European Championships. “My roles with Villa and Ireland and combining my commitment to these have become too much,” Keane said.

It’s easy to understand why Keane feels overcommitted. Since August, he has juggled managerial jobs in two different countries, promoted a best-selling autobiography laden with gratuitous sniping, and cultivated what I do not hesitate to call the scariest beard in football (sorry, Tim Howard). But earlier this month, when an Irish journalist asked Keane whether his book tour, which recently led to a fistfight with an autograph-seeker, and his Premier League job had become “distracting,” Keane responded with a polite, reasoned objection: “You think I’ve got to justify all that to you? Who the hell do you think you are?”

So today’s announcement marks an unusual moment in football history. Believe it or not, Roy Keane just admitted he was wrong.

Just two days after he signed for Manchester United, Angel Di Maria – the man on whose bony shoulders United’s hopes of a post-Moyes resurgence rest – released a farewell letter to Real Madrid fans saying he wished he could stay at the Bernabeu. At the time, I wrote the letter off as a PR stunt designed to preempt accusations of footballing betrayal. But now I’m not so sure.

This weekend, Di Maria told the French channel Telefoot that he would have joined PSG instead of United were it not for a “money problem.” He added, “Now I’m in the English league. But you never know. There is a lot of movement in football. You can never predict where you’re going to play.”

Cristiano Ronaldo won a handful of domestic titles and a Champions League before he started telling reporters that “only God” knew whether he would stay at United. Di Maria – who clearly didn’t want to move to England in the first place – has spent three months at Old Trafford, and he’s already pondering aloud about the strange, unpredictable forces that supposedly control the summer transfer window.

This can’t be good.