You Are A Legend: Jack Keane

Manager? He's the Sheriff

It might seem a bit odd to feature a Manchester United supporter on this very biased Arsenal corner of the web-o-sphere, particularly to open this series properly. But for myself, the rest of the NY Gooners, a whole slew of New York based supporters groups, expats, tourists, and recurring visitors, Jack Keane is more than a legend. He's a fucking institution.

His support of football culture in this city is unrivaled, and he has nurtured the scene here for longer than the eleven years I've been in New York. He was the bartender at Nevada Smiths for many of those years until he launched the Football Factory at Legends in the Fall of 2010. Throughout the time I've known him he has always been quick to share a word about his team, your team, or any club inbetween, and do so with the utmost respect for and love of the game. His presence behind the bar encourages a vibe that I doubt exists many places in the world.

One of my favorite stories about him involves a Barca punter during a Champions League match midweek. Attendance in the middle of the workday for a group stage match meant the place was fairly empty, so it was all the easier for Dave, another of the Nevadas stalwarts, to spot the passengers at the pub. This Barca bloke was freeloading and when Dave confronted him about it he got all uppity, complaining that he spent enough time and money down there to avoid such scrutiny.

Well uppity is a mild way to put it. He was making quite the ruckus. Dave can be abrasive but he was also dead right and before long this little dispute had attracted the attentions of us few NY Gooners on hand, as well as just about everyone else in the place. He was clamoring for the manager when Jack made his way from behind the bar.

"Are you the manager?" he yelled, clearly agitated at the grave injustice of his situation, to the one man least deserving of his vitriol.

"Manager? I'm the Sheriff" Jack responded.

I can't be sure but I like to remember him saying 'fucking Sheriff.' If he didn't it sure sounded like he wanted to. Still, after hearing the bloke out, Jack gave him the benefit of the doubt and ushered him over to the bar to settle the matter more calmly over a pint.

Nevadas went into decline and many of the staff parted ways. When Jack ended up at the Factory it took exactly no time for the hordes of football supporters to follow him. He works the entire lower level on his own most match days, slinging drinks and sharing stories to anyone who will have them.

It takes no time for him to remember your name and your beer, and he'll work tirelessly to get any match you want to see up on a screen by whatever jammy stream necesssary, and do it with a sense of humor and good manners that makes it easy to love him despite the fact that he is a Manc through and through.

If you spend a few visits to his bar you just might hear the supporters sing:

Oh when Jack Keane is pulling pints 
Oh when Jack Keane is pulling pints 
I want to be at the Factory
Oh when Jack Keane is pulling pints

And it's true. You do want to be there. He is a football man among men. It only seems appropriate at the end of the first full season of the Football Factory to recognize the incredible effort he puts into promoting the game and to providing a smashing atmosphere in which to enjoy it. Jack Keane, you are a Legend.



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