LONDON • At the prison in Tocopilla, a town nicknamed Devil's Corner on the sparse coast of Chile's arid north, the guards liked to pass their spare time with dusty games of football.
Often they were short of players and invited a kid to come and play. The boy was small and thin but, on that prison pitch, against grown men, he was never fazed.
Alexis Sanchez was his name, though most called him Ardilla - "Squirrel". He had already travelled 1,600km for a training stint at the academy of major club Universidad Catolica and, before long, he would be starring for Cobreloa, a more local team, where he would have a new nickname, El Nino Maravilla - "The Boy Wonder", when he began wowing Chile's Primera Division aged 16.
Not only was he unfazed, he was also unshakeable. In his belief he was headed for the top. There are press reports about Sanchez when he was beginning to be known, at 12 and 13, in which he states he wants to win the World Cup and become the greatest footballer on the planet.
Such an outlook never left him. During a difficult spell at Barcelona in 2012-13, he had a message to critics: "I know the footballer I am. I've always been a great player. I know I can win matches, and that's not going to change. Even if I'm not scoring, even if I'm not performing, for me I'll always be one of the best in the world."
There are extremes when it comes to Manchester United No. 7s, with little in between. Wearers of the club's most iconic shirt either become an Eric Cantona or an Angel Di Maria. A Bryan Robson or a Keith Gillespie. A Cristiano Ronaldo or a Memphis Depay.
Even when you pay a footballer £100 million (S$185 million) - the conservative estimate of the Chilean's pay over the next four-and-a-half years - nothing comes guaranteed. But Sanchez possesses the rare streak those great No. 7s had in common - that uncommon alchemy of ability, strong mentality and the dreamer's desire to be special. George Best and David Beckham were others.
Sanchez will not be Ronaldo or Best (few are in their class) but can be as impactful as the others.
A biography published in Chile - Alexis: El Camino De Un Crack - provides a fascinating portrait of his tunnel vision. In it, he explains, "My older brother is really good too... he plays as a No. 10 and all the teams in northern Chile wanted him. But he chose dancing and clubs instead."
Contrastingly, the young Alexis worked on his game and cared for his body. That continued. In 2011, when a group of young Chile players, including Arturo Vidal, got drunk three days before a crucial World Cup qualifier in Uruguay, Sanchez, only 22 then, sided with the squad's elders and castigated his erstwhile friends in a team meeting.
In the Chile camp now, he is the dedicated, perfectionist loner. According to Danilo Diaz, his co-biographer, "Players admire him but do not consider him a great friend. He's not that close with the others. He often trains alone and he's the only one without tattoos".
His hobby is Japanese manga, in particular Captain Tsubasa, which depicts a young boy's rise to football superstardom.
"I think Alexis has always related his own career with that fictitious world," said his other co-biographer, Nicolas Olea. "He sees himself as a cartoon character, running forever on a never-ending pitch, in pursuit of his ultimate goal."
It was typical that Sanchez insisted on not just playing at Yeovil in Friday's FA Cup fourth-round tie, but on receiving every possible ball. It was not a shy debut, and his assist for Ander Herrera's goal in the 4-0 win had manager Jose Mourinho purring about his experience and decision-making. These are Grade A traits in Mourinho-world.
Growing up in Devil's Corner, Sanchez washed cars by a cemetery to supplement his mother's meagre wages from cleaning and selling fish. His dad left when he was young. He played barefoot and his first boots were a gift from Tocopilla's mayor.
"Don't worry, I'll be a footballer and everything will work out," he would tell his mother.
And if Sanchez demanded a king's ransom from United, it is worth remembering his starting point, and the outlook that having once been penniless might breed in such a person.
THE TIMES, LONDON
