Dan Gargan is a former LA Galaxy defender with more than a decade of MLS experience with six different clubs. He's an amateur artist, big dreamer and pick-up point guard adept at dropping dimes. You can follow him on Twitter at @HeyDanGargan.

It’s early 2015. The defining player of this country, this league, this state, and more specifically this locker room, had lifted MLS Cup in December then called time on his illustrious career. With him went a real palpable sense of who the LA Galaxy were. #ThanksLD.

Exhausted from a sleepless existence with a newborn, I settled into my locker at 7:30 am and stared across the room at a piece of the new Galaxy puzzle, Sebastian Lletget.

I didn’t know him from any other youngster that joined us that preseason. It’s not easy being a young guy in a professional locker room full of ultra-competitive alpha males. Nervous, unsure, awkward. Uncertain when to join in the banter. You laugh at the jokes, but not too loud. You ask questions, but only the ones you know the answers to. You’re seen, but not often heard.

On this morning, though, it was just the two of us in a big, quiet, neon-lit room. I sipped the last drops of a coffee that had already gone cold, unwilling to part with it until I felt something that resembled awake. I couldn’t decide if I was pissed that I hadn’t slept, or felt like a hero that I was able to get my little girl down to sleep in a shade under four hours.

Meanwhile, Sebastian’s beard was perfectly trimmed, his eyebrows on fleek. With phone in hand, his eyes darted left, then right, and then straight ahead, trying to determine the best lighting for the perfect selfie. I thought: S&%#. This kid really does wake up like this.

“Seb," I said. "Are you really taking a selfie right now?”

He looked at me with those dreamboat brown eyes and said, “Bro. There’s a lot more to me than just my pretty face.”

I laughed. I laughed hard. For the obvious reasons, and the not so obvious ones.

Is there more to life than just being really, really, ridiculously good looking? I wouldn’t know. I have never had to live with that struggle. I’ve always fancied myself more of a Hansel type. I found the attraction in sunbathing off the coast of St. Bart’s with spider monkeys, tripping on acid. Just kidding. But it sounds way cooler to me than perfecting “the eclipse." Remember, a slight squint of the eyes and tilt the head.

Happy bday to the legend @alangordon9 #teamwehatewarmups #HetookthisselfieNotme #HisSocialmediagamehasgottenbetter #Longwaytogo #eclipse #legend A photo posted by Sebastian Lletget (@theylovedaboy) on Oct 16, 2015 at 6:41pm PDT

During my career, I learned from some of the best that I would never be the most skilled (or best looking) player on the field. But more importantly, I didn’t have to be. I prided myself on being one of the first to the office, every day. I watched over and over again as the next star was ushered in, and just as quickly chewed up and spit out. An honest work ethic and a process to better your craft are often more valuable than whatever “God-given skill” has been bestowed upon you.

I learned a lot that morning from one simple interaction with a teammate who I knew nothing about.

Here was a 22-year-old kid who was spending just as much time at the office as I was. I had no choice but to respect that.

I know what type of discipline it takes to maintain a six-pack. Clearly, so does he. Sebastian spent just as much time in the gym as that monster that plays up top, Gordo. I’m not sure who looks at themselves more in the mirror, but that’s another debate for another day.

He stays after scheduled training, and perfects his craft. He is starting to see the value in an honest day's work. He is the last player to leave the Galaxy facility, every day. The only other guy I could say that about was a certain former Galaxy No. 10. That guy had a decent career.

Being a professional athlete is an all-encompassing profession. Athletes are thrust into the public eye – errr phone – in today’s society. Judging by the amount of people who like his posts, Lletget is finding his niche. He’s taking what was given to him, a hairline that seems to grow without a single misplaced follicle, and building on it. He fits in LA. Both on and off the field.

In those early morning interactions, I came to find out that No. 17 is a genuine, hard-working, respectful and talented young player. If you just perused his Instagram, you might think otherwise. He earned the respect of a cynical, sleep-deprived vet.

Sometimes it is easy for all of us to judge a book by its cover, and social media is an easy cover to find. I’d ask that you take a look at the intangibles in how this kid plays, which aren't found on the first few pages. He plays with heart. He tracks back. He does the dirty work. Those are not God-given talents. Or maybe they are, just not the celebrated ones.

How many players come through MLS who have played for a Premier League club, aren’t intimidated by replacing an icon with the best club in the league, barely count six figures against the salary cap and have a passport that reads, “Born and raised in the United States?”

Sebastian Lletget. Da Boy. That’s who.