Manchester City’s Jack Grealish enjoying a well-earned drink. (Please drink responsibly). AFP/VNA Photo

Paul Kennedy

You really shouldn’t play down Manchester City’s fabulous treble-winning season. As sports success stories go, it’s on a par with Lance Armstrong’s seven Tour de France victories.

But putting the jokes to one side, and shelving my general hatred of the team from the blue half of Manchester for a moment or two, there is one thing I’ve really enjoyed seeing over the past few days, and that’s Jack Grealish.

I’ve always had a soft spot for the Brummie midfielder, despite his ridiculous man bun hairstyle.

If you have a search around YouTube, you’ll find some great clips of him interacting with fans. One in particular is when he surprises 11-year-old die-hard Blue, Finley, who has cerebral palsy. I dare you to watch it without welling up.

Jack comes across as a really genuine, sincere and nice bloke.

When he moved to City, I think it’s fair to say he didn’t have the best of starts. This wasn’t helped by the ludicrous fee (US$126 million) he was bought for, which constituted the most expensive transfer of an English player ever, as well as the highest fee ever paid by a British club.

The price-tag hung around his neck like a giant millstone. But to be fair to Jack, he knuckled down, listened to the advice he was getting from Pep Guardiola, the best coach around, and managed to kick-start his career at City, developing into one of their best performers this season.

But for once, it’s not what he’s done on the pitch that has elevated him in my estimation. It’s his antics off it this week that has made me, well, want to be him.

After kicking his final ball of the season in the Champions League Final last week to seal the historic treble, it’s fair to say that Jack’s metaphorically undone his man bun and let down his hair.

Looks like he had his first beer not long after lifting Europe’s biggest footballing prize, and he carried on drinking ever since.

Which, to be fair, is exactly what I’d do.

There was another clip posted by the incredibly funny and talented comedian/member of the Greeter’s Guild, Troy Hawke.

Troy was drafted in to greet the players as they boarded the open-top bus for their victory parade around Manchester, and Jack was, for want of a better phrase, leathered, and I love that.

I love that in this day and age where footballers are nothing more than programmed robots instructed to say and do the right things at all times, there was Jack, drunk as a skunk, shirt off, celebrating his amazing season in the best possible way.

Professionally, I’m sure his hangover will have cleared up by the time he’s due to report to training after City’s summer break, and I’ve no doubt he’ll want to improve even more next season. I’m sure he will.

But for now, carry on being Jack the lad. You’ve well and truly earned it. — VNS