• ‘They won the titles because cheating was going on’

• Micah Richards says he is ‘devastated and heartbroken’

The former Manchester United captain Roy Keane said he would throw the “medals in the bin” if he were a Manchester City player after Premier League confirmation on Tuesday that the club were guilty of all charges related to their financial rules and boosted their income by more than £900m after arranging “sham ­contracts” with commercial partners.

City, who continue to deny any wrongdoing, won eight trophies, including three Premier League titles between 2009 and 2018, the period under investigation. Keane said the achievements of City’s players had become redundant because of the “cheating” that took place during that time.

Before he was an irascible TV pundit, the Irish midfielder was equally feared on the pitch. Irish painter Seánie Harte has documented all the times Keane was sent off playing for Manchester United. ‘It’s a bit of fun,’ he says

Across his career in the 1990s and early 2000s, Roy Keane, the Ireland and Manchester United footballer, was a widely decorated midfielder with a relentless will to win. He also had his share of controversies, which included being famously sent off on several occasions.

These have now been documented in Irish painter Seánie Harte’s Red Card series, which marks the 11 times Keane received his marching orders while playing for Manchester United.

Saipan, about Keane’s infamous World Cup row with manager Mick McCarthy, has become a hit film in its native Ireland – as it opens in the UK screenwriter Paul Fraser explains how he aimed to avoid the mistakes of the past

The best bit of football action in Saipan happens on a tennis court. The forthcoming movie about the schism between Mick McCarthy and Roy Keane that led to the latter departing the 2002 World Cup before it started does not attempt to recreate any of the action from the tournament. In fact, it largely takes place in a decrepit hotel. But we do get one exception: Keane, played by Éanna Hardwicke, practising alone in the grounds. At the back of a court, the sullen, spartan athlete stands as a ball is fired up and over the net towards him. He tracks it with his eyes, opens up his right foot, takes the ball on his instep and kills it dead. And with that, his sporting bona fides are confirmed.

Saipan is a movie about masculinity, about men and their egos. It’s also about an era in Irish history; the roaring of the Celtic tiger, where questions of national identity came to the fore. What it’s not, really, is a movie about football. Which might be a canny choice, because while the world’s most popular sport only continues to grow its audience, football’s track record on the big screen is, how shall we say, like Manchester United after Sir Alex.

• Irishman fell out with Lisa Carrick after 2014 criticism

• ‘It is the way of the world,’ says new interim head coach

Michael Carrick has shrugged off Roy Keane’s jibe regarding his wife “probably doing the team talk” at Manchester United by claiming it does not bother him.

Keane made the comment about Lisa Carrick after the 44-year-old’s appointment as United head coach until the end of the season. Speaking on the Stick to Football podcast, the Irishman was responding to Jamie Carragher’s comment that United should not have employed Carrick in the role. “Well, his wife can always come in because she’s got a bit of a big mouth sometimes. She’s probably doing the team talk,” Keane said.

Why is the film of Ireland’s 2002 World Cup falling-out not a documentary but a drama that takes liberties with events?

All history is to some extent narrative. You cannot tell a story without in some way editing it, reducing it, compressing it. Which means that anybody telling a story about a historical event, particularly one from the relatively recent past, risks outraging those who have studied it or who remember it. Often those complaints are pedantic, trivial, but sometimes they are not. It’s one thing to elide two minor characters or to tweak the timeline to simplify a story, quite another to imply misleading motivations.

Saipan, Glenn Leyburn’s and Lisa Barros D’Sa’s film about the cataclysmic row between Roy Keane and Mick McCarthy shortly before the 2002 World Cup, came out in Ireland on Boxing Day and will be released in the UK on 23 January. It is obsessed by detail: the tracksuits, the sweatshirts, the kits are all right. It’s startling when the film cuts between reproductions of interviews and press conferences and actual footage to realise just how accurately these scenes have been recreated. Which raises two questions. What is the point? And how can such care have been taken over the look of the film when there are such grotesque inventions and inaccuracies in the plotting and motivation?

Currently on stage in a play that provoked riots, the rising Irish actor is also stepping into Keane’s boots to replay a notorious footballing feud. But, he says, his country feels more empowered than ever before

Éanna Hardwicke cannot really remember Saipan. Not Saipan the place, a small Pacific Island 200km north-east of Guam. Nor, thankfully, Saipan the film, in which he stars, and which I’m hoping to discuss with him at length this afternoon. No, he means Saipan the incident, Saipan the event, Saipan the crisis that has baffled and incensed Ireland’s population for a quarter of a century.

We are sitting in a pleasantly boxy meeting room deep within the lungs of the National Theatre, a space so starkly concrete that the current king of England once described it as a clever way of building a nuclear power plant in the middle of London without anyone objecting. Hardwicke himself sports the quiet, thoughtful presence of a literature student, at times speaking like a particularly articulate MA who’s popped round to deliver a treatise on some dramatic works he just happens to be starring in. He’s here rehearsing a play that forms another contentious landmark in Ireland’s cultural history, but we’ll get to that once we move past the summer he turned five.