Roy Keane hasn’t made up with Fergie or vice versa. Roy Keane once gave Peter Schmeichel a black eye. Roy Keane hates this and despises that. We know this because it’s all in his new book, ‘The Second Half’.

That’s what people do these days, apparently. They harbour all of this stuff in private… then one day it’s all laid bare in a bestseller. Teammates are thrown under the bus, relationships ravaged and bridges burned to hell. Because controversy gets those rigid hardcovers swept off the shelves. God forbid some joker might actually write a good book without being a dick about it.

I wonder if some people even deliberately hoard this stuff for the bios? Rio Ferdinand definitely seemed to be sitting on his Moyes ideas until his one came out. Or maybe the fact that he had a book deal gave him the false impression that it was OK to talk smack about his old boss all of a sudden. ‘Books are, like, well smart or whatever. You can say anyfink in ‘em an’ it’s all good’. As if something you wouldn’t say to a fella’s face is legitimised if you put it on paper.

The ‘Autobiography’ seems like a rite of passage for sportsmen (Write of passage, maybe? Ha.). If you were a big enough star, a popular enough figure, then you get a book and you get to make millions from it. You can do book tours and public readings and promotional signings and all of those things that make you feel like a right clever old chap. Oh, and $$$.

Forget the fact that with the amount of work that the ghost writers often do, half sporting ‘autobiographies’ are really just authorised biographies written in the first person. You think Wayne Rooney had much to say over chapter structure or storytelling timing? Plus the fact that Rooney’s first book was published before he turned 22. What the hell can he say at that time in his life? What perspective, what life lessons, what bloody anything!? Ah, but they paid him £5m for the contract (plus royalties).

In the broader sporting world, Kevin Pieterson has used his book as an excuse to rag on his old England cricket teammates and what great bullies they were, using poor Johnny Trott as unwitting evidence. It’s one man’s word against another so it’s not like we can argue who’s telling the truth. Given that the other English players were nursing a mock KP twitter account for a while there though, I doubt there are Christmas cards getting exchanged.

The way I see it, the best thing about an autobiography is the chance to hear familiar experiences related through the athlete’s voice. The more distinctive the voice the better. I couldn’t help but read Sir Alex Ferguson’s books in a thick Glaswegian accent, as he recapped all the wonderful moments I’ve had supporting Manchester United through the years. On the other hand, Michael Owen might just be the dullest bloke on the planet. And let’s not even get started on Cashley Cole.

Find a distinctive voice and you’ve got the makings of something good. Then add in a few behind the scenes things for new context and it’s Autobiography 101. Maybe some philosophy too, though that’s probably better left to the pros. Harry Redknapp won’t be selling copies of his latest so that people can read how he thinks his transfer strategy fits into the major tenets of capitalism.

I’ve got no issue with breaking the so called ‘sanctity’ of the dressing room either, nor shedding light on the odd controversy. I just hate that the controversy becomes the selling point. Now we’ve got this little wormhole where controversy is deliberately blown up to sell books. Be honest, but don’t be exploitative. The hard-nosed, tell-it-like-it-is attitude of its writer made Roy Keane’s first book a great read. He didn’t sugar coat. He didn’t hide. He was equally scathing of himself as he was of those that screwed him around.

Look, I’m still gonna read Keane’s new one. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. But this time not because of whatever revelations he might bring from the inner world of football, instead more in the way you can’t look away when some fella makes a big scene in public. ‘There’s a domestic next door, turn the telly off, love.’ He’s like a dog gone rabid, attacking everyone who goes near him.

Or maybe that’s just the impression we’re given from the promo tour. Maybe he’s actually perfectly rational and composed. Irish novelist (and a damn good one too) Roddy Doyle helped him out and he’s said that it was unquestionably a team effort. Keane was arranging sentences and editing grammar and everything. Maybe the book is equally without agenda, and it’s just the PR team that pulled out the more belligerent passages and leaked them because they think we’re that dumb. Screw those guys.

I just want a good book to read. Not some trashy back page gossip stretched out across 350 pages. Something with merit. I guess that’s too much to ask sometimes.