The hedonist’s hedonist: why Jack Grealish is having the best week of his life

J ack Grealish is having the best week of his life. Of course he is – he’s just won the treble with Manchester City (the Champions League, the Premier League and the FA Cup), and only one other English football team has ever done that. But this isn’t just anybody having the best week of their life – it’s Jacko. To put it in context, every week is a good week for Grealish. He is the optimist’s optimist, the hedonist’s hedonist, the party animal’s party animal. And this is his time. In years to come, this behaviour will become known as doing a Jack. There may well be a four-day festival named after him – Grealishbury? Jackstock? – where revellers have pricey vodka poured down their throat as they “do the turkey”.

Even when he was playing terribly last year during his first season at City, despite having being signed for £100m, Jacko was having a great time – whether photobombing other players’ interviews, telling the press he’d been playing terribly, being caught out on the lash by his manager, Pep Guardiola. Jack the lad. Never was an alice-band-wearing, calf-flaunting, dynamite-dribbling, lovable narcissist more aptly named.

Many City fans weren’t sure about Grealish initially. There couldn’t have been a less Pep-ish player. Guardiola is famous for signing smart team players and making them even smarter. He can’t stand individuals who play for themselves. And Grealish was the ultimate individual – at his previous club, Aston Villa, they simply gave him the ball and let him do what he wanted. He was fantastically skilful, but he was also a footballing egomaniac with a reputation for diving better than Tom Daley.

And then there was Grealish’s mouth. My God, the mouth. After City came back from the dead to beat Aston