Anyone who has worked in this trade would understand the pressures to produce money-spinning copy. Dunphy, who always painted himself as a misunderstood footballer and has since turned himself into a respected, if maverick writer, might have seemed an ideal soulmate and father confessor for Keane. But ghostwriting requires complete trust between star and author. And it is an open question whether Dunphy, an intelligent man who would have calculated the impact of the Haaland revelations, has earned that by allowing what amounts to an admission of premeditated GBH to enter this sad tome.
Of course such books are not worth the paper they are written on if the reader does not believe that the sportsman is being completely straightforward about his or her life. But there are times when the writer has to act as a filter between brutal honesty and damaging, gratuitous admissions.’