THE irrationality of football (and indeed sport in general) is never better illustrated than when considering why you do, or do not, want individual clubs to succeed or fail, if you have no allegiance to them whatsoever.

Assuming that Derby County have already been relegated from the Premier League, it's two from eight for the drop and, if pressed to express any preferences as to who I'd like to see in the Championship next season alongside them, it would be Bolton and Reading, for the extremely sensible reasons that I once got lost trying to find the big tennis centre in Bolton and have never forgiven the place, and Reading is an architectural mess which the planners who created it should be ashamed of.

Newcastle is a great place for a night out, and if you close your eyes at Craven Cottage you can still imagine Johnny Haynes and Alan Mullery strutting their stuff, so they must both stay up. I don't really have any strong feelings either way about Birmingham or Wigan, but greatly admire the board and management at Middlesbrough, so they're safe.

Which leaves Sunderland. Or more to the point, Roy Keane.

This might have been a very different piece had it been written five years ago. Keane the referee abuser. Then Keane the unrepentant thug who deliberately sought to maim an opponent. And Keane who let his country down so badly at the World Cup.

But switch on 'Match of the Day' on a Saturday night, and who is the manager who talks the most intelligently, rationally and without hyperbole? Who has an authority and a presence that commands and demands your attention? Who has assumed the mantle of a managerial statesman within a very short period of joining that rag-tag band of winners and losers?

Talk to local newspaper and radio reporters on Wearside and they eulogise about how helpful and amenable Keane is. In the words of one, he's "unrecognisable from the snarling rotweiler of old''. Suddenly you can use the words 'charming' and 'Roy Keane' in the same sentence.

Except it's not that sudden. When you then chat to other top Irish sportsmen from disciplines as disparate as rugby and racing, they will tell you past tales of immense generosity, one in particular to an injured rugby player that sets Keane apart from the crowd. And they will all tell you how when they're instructing or coaching young up-and-coming stars, they offer Keane as the ultimate beacon to aspire to.

His determination and commitment on and off the pitch were the epitome of the professionalism that so many current sportsmen fall short of. No wonder Sunderland score so many goals late in the game. Not a single player would dare to leave the field having not sweated every ounce from his body.

In interviews, Keane doesn't shirk from answering the difficult questions, and he's happy to admit to mistakes. He talks like he played. And he has such charisma.

Swooned

Watching the telly last Saturday, one of my BBC colleagues (female) didn't want to hear particularly what he was saying about the Chelsea game, but instead just swooned at his eyes. I asked one of the local journalists about them. "Yeh. they're hazel,'' he said, "and they can turn you to ice in an instant.''

The days of ranting and raging are long gone, but it doesn't mean he's turned from red to beige. He still has strong opinions about everything from WAGS to prawn sandwiches, but they're delivered in the measured tones of management, not the shrill shriek of the shop floor.

By all accounts, Keane has compartmentalised his life to the extent that his Old Trafford days are now off limits for journalists. Nonetheless, wouldn't it be fascinating to ask the 'new' Keane what he feels about his previous incarnation? He probably wishes he'd never harangued referee Andy D'Urso in the way that he did, but he'd justify it, if he had to, by just saying it was because he cared.

You suspect the only reason that Keane would leave Sunderland would be because he felt he'd let the club down -- having taken all the plaudits for winning promotion, he might feel duty-bound to field the flak if relegation followed in quick succession.

But the metamorphosis of Keane is why Sunderland simply have to stay up -- and nothing against Steve Coppell, but the car parking at Reading station is so irritating, that's another reason they're going to have to go. (©The Daily Telegraph)

- John Inverdale