It is shortly before 10pm and Antonio Valencia sits on the sofa of his Quito home, munching on a take-away empanada and sipping a cup of morocho. “We drink this in winter to keep us warm at home,” he explains. “It’s like the Ecuadorean answer to hot chocolate, made with corn, cinnamon and milk. Tasty, eh?”



He’s not wrong, even if the belt seems to tighten at every sweet, indulgent glug of his homemade treat.



“Anyway,” he says. “Back to football. My five-a-side team. OK, David de Gea in goal. Wayne Rooney and Ryan Giggs, no question. Nani, for tight spaces and the flicks and tricks. And Nemanja Vidic, nobody’s getting past him. That club, those days, these were the happiest times of my life.”



We shuffle down the stairs of his meticulous home, past the piano played by his daughter Domenica, through a home gym so well-equipped it would shame some health clubs, until we enter the personal shrine to...