During the quieter moments inside Manchester City’s dressing room in that lull after matches and immediate debriefs, as some amble out and others loiter, Jack Grealish would perch at his locker and talk.
Routinely one of the last out, Grealish loved being in that environment in his opening years at City, when new to it all, new to a spot in this group of supreme talent where winning was everything.
He would open a bottle of Asahi and converse openly about his dreams and aspirations. About how lucky he was to be sitting there.