In football, as in life, so often what makes a man great ultimately becomes his downfall.
Sir Alex Ferguson is a good example of this, his iron-will and absolute refusal to ever back down from a fight key elements in a personality that demanded nothing but success. It drove Manchester United to trophy after trophy. It eradicated even the notion of complacency.
But when in 2003 he ignored all council and took legal action against United shareholders John Magnier and JP McManus over a bitter dispute concerning a racehorse’s stud rights his stubbornness proved costly in the extreme.
It caused the club to fracture, thus allowing the Glazers to pounce. Two decades on, the club has yet to heal itself.
Then there’s Kevin Keegan, a man who was so often Ferguson’s managerial bete noire across the Nineties.
Keegan wore his heart on his sleeve. He ran off emotion over logic, and this manifested itself in Newcastle United playing idealistic fare that made them everyone’s second favourite team.
They were adventurous, gung-ho. There was nothing considered or measured about them, just as there was nothing considered or measured about their gaffer, and this resulted in some crazy games and crazy scorelines.
But when in January 1997, Keegan realised that he wasn’t enjoying training so much anymore, and when concerns arose over Newcastle’s intention to float on the stock market, his propensity to act on his instincts became a big problem.
Because, shocking the footballing world to its core by his knee-jerk decision, Keegan handed in his resignation to the club’s board.
Just over a week earlier, his side had thumped Spurs 7-1.
Black Wednesday. That’s how the day came to be known, a devastating development for Newcastle fans who simply adored a man who first came to them as a player and revived them, before doing likewise from the dug-out.
Keegan had returned to the North-East to an idol’s welcome in 1992, to find a club in total disarray and staring relegation to the third tier in the face.
Survival alone was achievement enough that season before he took the Magpies up a year later, a triumph forged on the goals of Andy Cole and an all-out attacking spirit.
Once back in the top-flight the sports betting presumably priced them up as mid-table residents, a team capable of winning games all guns blazing but likely susceptible to a sucker punch. But Keegan’s Newcastle were far too good for that.
In their first ever season in the Premier League, the great entertainers at St James Park finished a lofty third and in due course not even the seismic sale of Andy Cole to Manchester United could derail them.
A top six finish came next, and as players such as David Ginola, Faustino Asprilla and, later Alan Shearer, were signed Newcastle edged closer to winning their first league title for nigh-on 70 years.
In 1995/95, just one defeat in the first half of the season saw the Magpies heavily backed in the football betting to top United but we all know what happened next. That famous rant. A cruel near-miss. All amidst a succession of 4-3 wins and 4-3 losses.
And then suddenly and shockingly, it was over. The rollercoaster stopped mid-loop.
The heartbreak experienced across the region has been compared to a form of grief, while for Kevin Keegan the traits that had taken him to the top of the managerial tree now threatened to taint his legacy.
*Credit for all of the photos in this article belongs to Alamy*
