Gabriel Jesus can look back and chuckle. He may grin impishly at the ridiculousness of being approached in a parking park, when he thought his legs were ready to split in half.

He was 13 years old at the time and played in a men’s league in Sao Paulo. He embarrassed a few with the dazzling tricks that we are now seeing in the Premier League.

‘The pitches are all dirt, and you’re playing against the marmanjo – the “hard men”,” Jesus wrote in The Players’ Tribune.

‘It’s notorious for being really physical. I remember them all looking at me like, “OK, kid, we’re going to make your life hell”. They started beating me up whenever I touched the ball.

‘They went mad, as if they were coming after me to hurt me. There was a lot of terrible stuff happening on the field.

Worse off, actually. One opposing midfielder, at least five years his senior, took offense to Jesus’ cheek after he continuously danced around him. The shame became too much.

At the whistle, the bully looked at me and said, “I told you I was going to break your legs, kid.” “I will see you in the parking lot.”

‘He was serious. It was fairly intense. I recall thinking “wow…I might not get out of here” Fortunately, my teammates shielded me. They all flocked around me, and I arrived home safely.’

Jesus met his abuser by happenstance last Christmas, just weeks before flying to England. Needless to say, the aggressor lacked bite at the moment, and Jesus was already a national treasure.

The story of the striker’s preserved legs helps to explain why Jesus has fit in so well at Manchester City; why he bounces off defenders and leaves his foot in. That is not typical for a 20-year-old Brazilian experiencing English football for the first time.

He is a young man who was recently crowned prince of the Jardim Peri favela streets. Children would frequently visit a neighborhood club only to eat ham sandwiches, demonstrating the extent of poverty. It makes his swift ascent all the more astonishing.

‘We’d have these massive football competitions where every street would have a team and the award would be a can of soda (fizzy drink),’ he said. ‘Man, there was a battle over that can of Coke. It’s all you have, you know? Honestly, that beverage meant more to us than the Copa Libertadores.

‘If you won the title, you’d be passing around the can, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. The trophy soda is ten times better than champagne, guy. Ten times better.