Graeme Souness faced Kevin Keegan as a player and manager – they later became friends and golfing partners. Here, after the news of Keegan’s death at the age of 75, he pays tribute…
If you ever wanted an example of a man who became a superstar but never changed as a man, Kevin Keegan would be top of that list.
For everything he achieved in the game – the trophies, two Ballon d’Or – his greatest quality was the humility he carried with him through every waking moment. He treated every person he met in the same way: with utmost respect.
To say he was an absolute gentleman seems an understatement. He was a class act.
This was a genuine superstar. If only you could bottle the attitude he had and sell it to the players today.
I was in a restaurant not so long ago when I witnessed a young player, a so-called star, refuse to do a selfie with a fan. That was the absolute polar opposite to Kevin.
Kevin Keegan was a genuinely humble man who recognised he had got lucky in life, but boy did he make the most out of his talent and work hard at it.
He left nothing on the table. He got the absolute best out of himself every time he went out and played football whether training or in a game. His workrate was phenomenal and his enthusiasm lifted everyone around him.
Liverpool captain Graeme Souness shakes hands with Newcastle’s Kevin Keegan before Keegan’s testimonial at St James’s Park in 1984
From an early age he became the biggest star in English football. When I faced him for Liverpool against Southampton, there was no legal way of stopping him. He didn’t take kindly to that and gave me a right mouthful. But like all the greats, he didn’t shy away, he just came back for more.
But afterwards we became friends. I got to know him even better in recent years.
We used to play golf in Portugal together and he’d always make it competitive. He was full of mischief. England v Scotland he’d say. He was a delight to be around and no matter who asked for a photograph, he’d always stop and make them feel special.
One Friday, a guest speaker for my charity DEBRA had let me down. The dinner was on the Sunday at Prestonfield House in Edinburgh. I rang Kevin and asked if he could step in. He said, ‘give me five minutes’.
He rang back in three and said, ‘I’ll do it.’ I said, ‘how much do you want?’ and he said ‘just my travel expenses please’, because he liked to drive everywhere.
He turned up, enchanted the room, then stayed and listened to the families’ stories. When I went to pay him, he refused and said, ‘put it in the pot’. It was a mark of the man.
He used to say, ‘I wish for you and your family what you would wish for yourself’.
My heart goes out to Jean and his family.
