THE first thing Wayne Rooney wants to talk about is the Scottish referendum. For an hour he sits, leaning on muscled arms, in his Mike Tyson T-shirt, thoughtful, broad of scope, engaged.

We’ve sat down like this before, in the same room at Carrington, years ago when he and Manchester United were still new to each other. He was a nice lad who shuffled in shyly, wearing training gear and flip-flops, and offered me a cup of tea. But this Rooney is a man. In his civvies, at ease with the world, now he has worked out himself and all the stuff around him. It’s the same, in his strip, on the pitch.

The younger Wayne was still in the glow of first achievements. At