Adam Wharton, the Anachronist

by PHIL COSTA & TOM CURREN

Two-and-a-bit years ago, on a grey and blustery December day battered by Storm Pia and teetering on the edge of Christmas, a shaven-headed Lancashire boy sat down across from us and ordered a salad. We were in central Manchester, where Adam Wharton was something of a quiet prodigy. He lived, he told us, five minutes from the Blackburn Rovers training ground, which made his commute quite easy. He’d been playing for the club since he was a child, when he watched his older brother Scott break into the first team, and was now a senior player himself. Rovers was everything to him, because it was all he’d ever known. “I’ve never really lived a normal life,” he told us. “I always enjoyed it so much that I never really considered the things I was missing out on.” We were there because we thought those sacrifices had resulted in a very special footballer. As we’d soon learn, we were not the only ones.

A month after we first met, Adam Wharton’s abnormal life became extraordinary at a pace that, even with hindsight, is difficult to grasp. In late January 2024, Crystal Palace introduced the world to the the quiet, low-socked midfield prodigy by bringing him to the Premier League. Within the span of a few league games, he was a first-team regular. As the season closed he became a household name, the from-nowhere kid wrapping passes into the holy triumvirate of Eberechi Eze, Michael Olise and Jean-Phillipe Mateta. Palace tore the league apart. When England flew to Germany for EURO 2024, Adam Wharton was on the plane. The summer following, he’d won the FA Cup. You know this story. It moved so fast. But it had gaps, gaps we felt compelled to fill. So, in February, we accepted a second invitation to join Wharton and his team, this time at the glittering south London tower block he now calls home.

The world moves at a dizzying pace around all young people. Speaking to Wharton makes one think about that pace, and whether it’s more pronounced for him, or less. His world is a bubble if he wants it to be: training, recover, game, recover, rest, repeat. But mostly one thinks about speed and modernity because Adam Wharton is, in many ways, an anachronist. Football has sped up: the Premier League is more intense, more physical than ever, but every touch Wharton takes seems to happen in slow motion, at the pace he dictates. “You almost feel outdated,” SCOUTED’s Phil Costa told him. “Like a relic of a simpler time, when football was about technical quality, ability and vision.” He spun that into a question about Wharton’s intent during a game. “What do you think is your responsibility is on the pitch?”

“Win the game,” Wharton said, so bluntly we laughed. But these three words felt instructive. This is how you deal with a relentless whirlwind speed, on the pitch and off it: pare it down, simplify, take it one objective at a time. As we sat together on an island-sized table in a conference room seemingly designed for brokering corporate mergers, it quickly became apparent his breakneck two years hadn’t changed Wharton much at all. Same buzzed head, same easy manner. He had wandered into the room late, just back from training, in sweats and Ugg slippers; perhaps a little more confident, a little more assured, a veteran of twenty-four months of high-stakes media appearances, but still a charming and easygoing young man who feels like he was plucked from Brockhall Village yesterday. And perhaps, on and off the pitch, this is Adam Wharton’s superpower: an ability to force the game - and now London - to move at his pace, rather than be dictated to, in such a casual manner you almost can’t spot it happening at all.

When I exit my home, the street stretches to a single point on the industrial horizon, a long procession of old worker houses that frame a distant cluster of skyscrapers as if it were designed to. One of those skyscrapers, it turns out, contains Adam Wharton’s new apartment. The tower is a nice metaphor: it is a dizzying height compared to the village Wharton left. We wondered how the change in altitude and speed had affected such a young person: not much, at least by Wharton’s telling. “It wasn’t as big as it might have been for some other people,” he said. I don’t really do too much.” He was living with his parents when Crystal Palace called. “I’d thought about maybe moving out back home, but it was never like, ‘I’ve got to move out.’ I was pretty relaxed about it. When I was moving to Palace I didn’t really think about moving in somewhere until someone was like, ’Where are you going to live?’ And then I’m like, ‘I don’t really know.’ I’d only been to London when I was a kid, and maybe the year before with my friend for one night. We had a walk around London, watched a footy match, and then went home the next day. So I was literally like, ‘I don’t know where’s best.’”

He landed on his feet, and London life began as it had in Brockhall: as a homebody. “I wasn’t really bothered about going and seeing all the sights. I was more just staying in my apartment and watching football and basically doing what I did at home, but down here. Probably the biggest difference was just getting to and from training. It’s probably twice as far as Blackburn, but then it took, I don’t know, eight, nine times as long.” Ah, complaining about transport links: Adam Wharton is a south Londoner already. He mentions going out when friends come to visit, and we wonder about the speed at which fame fell upon him. When we last met, he was an icon in Blackburn but unknown most everywhere else: now he’s an England international and a face of the Premier League. One thinks about roving packs of tourists, internet culture, and being a famous but quiet 22-year-old. None of that, he says, has been much of an issue. “80% of the people in London have no clue about football. So if you go on the train… nobody really speaks to each other.” True. “You just walk past each other, stand there, headphones in, on the phone. But you get it here and there. If there’s a football fan walking on the street, they might have a little double check. If I went out for a whole day, you might get one or two.” So he can still head out and do normal things with his friends. “I don’t really think about ‘you can’t go here or there.’ The only time I’d get recognised is if I went somewhere that’s football-based. But no, in general, I just do everything as if I’m a normal person.”

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Of course he’s here, in this metropolis, because one of its proudest institutions valued his services at an initial £18m. Under ex-sporting director Dougie Freedman, Crystal Palace built a famed reputation for finding uncut gems in the rough and tumble of the Football League. Upon his arrival, Wharton sat deep behind Eberechi Eze and Michael Olise, who had been plucked from Queen’s Park Rangers and Reading respectively. Marc Guéhi, although bought from Chelsea, had been on loan with Swansea City when Palace became infatuated. Wharton’s midfield partner is often Will Hughes, of Derby County and Watford heritage. Recruiting from the Championship has become a signature of the south London stalwarts and it was no surprise, despite interest from elsewhere, to see Wharton land at Selhurst Park.

“What swayed me is that they were interested for a long time before the move,” he explains. “It wasn’t just an impulse buy because I’d suddenly started playing well, there was a lot of time and effort invested in my development. Dougie was obviously a big factor. I remember he was at my first start for Blackburn, so a year and a half before the move, which set a good benchmark for where Palace were. They had a strong recent history of buying players from the Championship and improving them, which appealed to someone like me at that moment in my career.” That moment was the last time we’d spoken, as 2023 became 2024. At the time, Blackburn Rovers were attempting to escape the league under Danish coach Jon Dahl Tomasson, a campaign that would ultimately end in failure. Although Wharton spoke respectfully at the time of his desire to see the attempt through, we knew a January exit was likely, a summer move all but guaranteed. “I think I knew it was going to happen at some point,” he says. “I remember the night before [moving to Crystal Palace], it was basically all agreed, but we had an FA Cup game at Ewood Park. And I wasn’t meant to be on the bench, for obvious reasons, and then they said, ‘Can you go on the bench just so it doesn’t cause a bit of noise, but you’re not going to come on.’ At full time, I walked around the pitch and that’s when it hit me: this is the last time I’m going to be involved in a game with Blackburn. Leaving was probably more difficult than I thought, but at the same time, it was a good thing that I was joining a Premier League club and getting this opportunity. Playing for Blackburn was always my dream. I achieved that dream, and playing at the highest level is something every footballer wants, so I wasn’t going to let that chance pass by.”

Wharton joined a Palace team coached by veteran Roy Hodgson, a relationship that would last less than a month. Then Oliver Glasner arrived. The Austrian, an ex-Eintracht Frankfurt and Wolfsburg coach, was considered a major coup. He wasted little time proving that true. The Eagles won seven of their last eight games that season, becoming the in-form Premier League side with statement wins over Newcastle, Manchester United, Aston Villa, and Liverpool at Anfield. “What really stands out is his mindset,” Adam tells us. “He (Glasner) wants us to enjoy playing every three days, he wants us to enjoy facing big opposition and pushing our own game onto them. He’s very intense and detail-focused, but that’s definitely rubbed off on the players. That sort of enthusiasm, or relentlessness to improve is contagious, and what you want from your manager.”

That run of form was inspired by the attacking trio of Eze, Olise and Jean-Philippe Mateta, whose run-in flow state resulted in 17 goals and six assists during the final eight games, when they combined as effortlessly as watermelon and halloumi cheese (don’t knock it ‘til you try it - Phil). “They always wanted the ball,” Wharton reflects on that first period. “Especially Michael, because I was on his side. Even if I wasn't necessarily facing him, he'd always be in a position to receive in the pocket. And you could tell by his first touch that he knew where the pressure was coming from, so that he could find a way out as soon as he received it. He [Olise] worked a lot harder than people think because his personality is relaxed, but his running stats were always at the top in and out of possession - he was more switched on than people realise. Ebs [Eze] had an unbelievable shot on both feet, and the way he carried and protected the ball was so good. It’s always the small things when it comes to the top players, because you get drawn to the goals or assists, little flicks, but their spatial awareness, how they receive the ball, knowing when to time their runs, that’s the stuff that’s useful for us. They were so strong as well, both of them. Obviously you think of them as more flair players, but their fundamentals were top.”

Olise is now at Bayern Munich and considered among the best attackers on the planet. Eze is chasing two titles at Arsenal. Mateta came within reported inches of moving to AC Milan in January 2026, a transfer only scuppered by a knee injury. This is the curse of clubs like Crystal Palace: any joy is understood to be a fleeting, ethereal thing, as hard to hold onto as smoke. It all moves so fast. But at the end of Glasner and Wharton’s first full Premier League season, they delivered the greatest joy in the club’s history.

Even mention of the FA Cup final draws a rare smile. Adam Wharton started alongside Daichi Kamada that afternoon, and the pair were fundamental to an astonishing defensive performance that kept Manchester City out with a Glasner-typical, furious kind of organisation. The entire Palace team completed 126 passes; Ruben Dias, City’s starting centre-back, made 129. After Palace took the lead through a now-iconic Eberechi Eze goal they defended it with their lives, throwing everything in the path of relentless City pressure. Everything. With 72 minutes on the clock, Kevin De Bruyne - in one of his final appearances for City - found space in a congested final third and cannoned an effort at goal. Wharton launched himself into a block, and the shot cracked him flush on the side of the head. He lay on the floor as City players circled the referee in frustration; The Athletic described it as “clever from the leaders” in their matchday liveblog. The medical staff performed the routine concussion protocols, and Wharton waited the standard regulatory period before re-entering the fray, tearing immediately into tackles as if nothing had happened at all. At least, that’s what we’re able to see from video: Wharton himself has a somewhat different recollection, meaning he doesn’t have a recollection at all.

“I was completely gone,” he tells us. “I’ve watched a million clips back and I sort of know what happened, but there’s no memory or recollection of the game. I basically had to watch the highlights to prove to myself that I was there. I vaguely remember Ebs scoring and Dean [Henderson] saving the penalty, but everything else is missing. It’s weird, because apparently I answered all the questions they asked me initially. I knew who I was, where I was, what the score was, but the concussion must’ve kicked in after because when I came back onto the pitch, I kept asking Chris [Richards] what the score was. He’s trying to concentrate, and I’m asking stupid questions. I don’t know how I played on for ten minutes after that. Chris must’ve told somebody and they pulled me off, then I went straight to hospital in an ambulance. I remember being in this waiting room and I saw Marc [Guéhi] come in, who was getting some treatment for a cut above his eye, but I had no idea why he was there. I kept asking him what he was doing there and why he had a medal. He showed me a video on his phone of them lifting the cup - that’s how I found out we won.”

In February 2021, the Premier League began trialling new concussion protocols, including the introduction of a free ‘concussion substitute’, which have since become ratified as a core element of the game. The rules, developed alongside the International Football Association Board (IFAB), revolve around the central tenet of ‘if in doubt, sit them out’ - encouraging medical staff to remove a player immediately if signs of concussion are present. In February 2022, Leeds United defender Robin Koch was allowed to play on for twenty minutes after sustaining a head injury against Manchester United, before ultimately signalling he needed to come off. Leeds stated the medical staff had “passed all of the on-field concussion screening tests that are currently part of the Premier League protocols.” The second half of that statement reads “the medical staff at Leeds United have always been in favour of temporary substitutions for head injuries, as it would allow the staff more time to assess an injury and allow a period for symptoms to potentially develop.”

“There’s the protocol, they all go through it,” Glasner said in the weeks following the incident. “I don’t know it in detail but he [Wharton] passed everything otherwise the doctor [would have taken him off] like Maxence [Lacroix] against Brighton [on April 5 - Lacroix was immediately substituted after a clash of heads with João Pedro]. He’s always the first to say ‘Take him off.’” In the weeks following Koch’s injury, Leeds and Chelsea both complained to the Premier League that the rules were not sufficient to safeguard player safety, a position the Professional Footballer’s Association (PFA) later echoed. The key problem is that concussion symptoms can take hours or days to materialise fully. And removing a player for a suspected concussion is final: as with any substitute, concussion substitutes cannot return to the field of play. Medical staff get two or three minutes to make a critical, permanent decision, under the pressure of a high-stakes game waiting to resume, and critics of the rules say staff simply cannot generate enough information. “Permanent substitutions do not allow medical teams to assess a player with a potentially serious brain injury in an appropriate environment,” said Dr Adam White, Head of the PFA’s dedicated Brain Health department, in 2022. “The rules as they are create an extremely challenging situation and offer no support to medical personnel.”

Wharton missed the final two league games of Crystal Palace’s season, a senior England camp that included a World Cup qualifier, as well as the U-21 European Championships at which he was due to appear. "He's not allowed to do physical exercises at the moment,” Glasner said on May 25. “He has to follow the concussion protocol. He can't remember the [FA Cup] final. That means it takes a little bit longer than the usual seven days. I talked to him today, and he's still sleeping two or three hours during the day, which is completely unusual for him. That means he needs time to recover […] We have to be very careful with the concussion protocol.” For now, we can be grateful Wharton is okay, even if his reflections on the day are sombre. “We can laugh about it now, he says, “but it’s actually something quite traumatic, which robbed me of that day a bit: the experience, the celebrations. But obviously the most important thing is that I was alright. I kept having to do all these different tests well into the summer, to make sure everything was fine and that there weren’t any lasting effects of the concussion, and I was still a bit off it.” Though Wharton had to experience it all through a screen, the celebrations in south London were raucous. He and his teammates had delivered history to Crystal Palace and, whatever happened next, they will all of them be immortalised.

The season following that historic day has been challenging. Crystal Palace started the season well, and they beat Manchester City again to win the Community Shield. But the late-window loss of Eberechi Eze to Arsenal compounded Oliver Glasner’s well-publicised frustrations with the lack of incoming transfer activity, and form stuttered. Winning the FA Cup had landed them in the Europa League, a prize stripped after UEFA found them in breach of multi-club ownership rules: majority-owner John Textor also held a controlling stake in Olympique Lyonnais. Textor sold his holdings in Palace in July 2025, but the club were demoted to the Conference League regardless. In January, the holders suffered the ignominy of granting Macclesfield the greatest ‘giant killing’ in FA Cup history as they went out at the third round; that weekend, Glasner announced he’d decided to leave the club at the end of the season; days after that, club captain Marc Guéhi was sold to Manchester City.

“It’s been tough,” Wharton reflects. “People underestimate the mental aspect of sport and I mean that generally, not just at the elite level. When things aren’t going well and you concede, heads might go down, creating chances feels harder, scoring goals feels harder, everything feels like it’s going against you and it’s easy to fall into a funk. But the manager always tells us to stay together and wants us to encourage each other on the pitch. It’s all about your mindset because players need support to try things and even the little things can help change momentum. The standard is so high in the Premier League right now and every week is a battle, but getting annoyed with each other gives you nothing.” On Glasner, he is effusive. “He definitely is intense and demanding on the pitch,” he says, as he ask whether the stories about the Austrian’s rigorous training demands are true. “The sessions are how he wants his teams to play. He wants pressing and intensity in your actions. It might not be a two-and-a-half-hour session, but it might be an hour and a half of intense, non-stop work. Little break, go again. He’d rather do 90 seconds non-stop, then rest for 30 seconds, then go again, rather than five minutes where you run, then you’re tired and it’s jogging, then you run again.”

Glasner is a famed tactician. At their best, Palace mastered his signature 3-5-2 and were widely considered one of the toughest teams in the league to break down. But, unprompted, Wharton is most vocal about Glasner’s effect on the team’s mentality. “There’s not one game where he’s like, ‘Yeah, I’m happy with a draw.’ Every game, the plan is to win. Which sounds obvious, but there are times where people are happy losing to City one-or-two nil. But there’s not one game he’s like, ‘We’re going to sit off and hope to draw.’ It’s: ‘We might sit off, but when there’s a chance to press, we press, win it, and get a chance.’ He asked us before a cup game…I think it was Arsenal away in the league, before Villa in the FA Cup semi-final [on April 23, 2025]. We’d had a lot of games and he said, ‘Three days before Villa, Arsenal are a tough game. Do we want to go for it, or focus on Villa?’ He said, ‘If we focus on Villa, fine, but we’ll play the under-21s.’ So it’s like, you can’t really say no. We wanted to win. We went there, got the draw. We went down twice and came back. After the game he said, ‘This is what I want in my team. Doesn’t matter if you’ve got a game in three days. You’ll recover. If you’ve got the right mindset, you’ll be ready.’ Then after the semi-final he said, ‘It doesn’t matter if you play every three days. You’ve shown you can do it. It’s whether you want to.’”

Under Glasner’s guidance, Adam Wharton has become one of the Premier League’s - and, inarguably, Europe’s - most coveted and celebrated central midfielders. And no surprise: it’s difficult not to love a player whose mother tongue is breaking lines. In 2024, a quote from our last interview went lightly viral: “I love wrapping passes through to my No.10 so they can turn and drive at the defense,” Wharton told us. “Maybe more than a goal or assist.” This was a month before those No.10s became Eberechi Eze and Michael Olise. In the period since then, Wharton’s passing has become gently iconic. His highlight reel is stuffed full of his favourite kind of passes, soft one-or-two-touch lifts that turn moments of indecision into chances. Particularly memorable was the six-minute period against Tottenham Hotspur in March, during which he generated two gorgeous assists: first with a tight little through-ball for Jørgen Strand Larsen, and then an outrageous clip into Ismaïla Sarr that split the Spurs defence and allowed the Senegalese forward to finish with one touch. The second was, literally, inch-perfect, landing in the only spot possible to allow Sarr to reach it before the onrushing Guglielmo Vicario. At the time of writing, no player has assisted more goals with a line-breaking pass than Wharton’s five.

That this gorgeous technicality has flourished under Glasner’s regimented style might seem surprising, but it’s no coincidence. Palace are energetic and powerful, and Wharton often looks up to see runners streaming ahead of him; he is encouraged to be decisive, to make every touch count. “As long as I have an effect in helping the team create chances, score goals, control the game, both in and out of possession,” he tells us, when we ask what makes him happiest on the pitch. “As long as I have some sort of effect, I’m not dragging the team down or wasting a player by being there. Even if that’s making a movement and don’t receive the ball, but if someone’s man-marking me and follows me, then there’s space for another player to turn. I’ve created that space without actually doing much. And then even if it’s moving out wide for the build-up, it drags someone out, you play back, and now there’s more space for them. It’s not just about the obvious. It’s little things that make a big difference but you don’t necessarily see them.”

One of the little things went viral last year: a video of Wharton warming up by dribbling alone with his head on a constant twitchy swivel. Xavi Hernández once said “the more I see, the more I solve” in relation to scanning, and the practise has grown in infamy among online football types, perhaps because noticing it proves you’re paying close attention. “I don’t really know why people loved it so much,” Wharton says of the viral warmup, shrugging. “It’s definitely something you learn and start to do more, the older you get. You’re not going to be checking your shoulders when you’re eight years old because the game is all about the ball at that age. It’s just something I did to get my brain prepared and ready, not because it’s something I’m actively looking to do. It’s got to be natural - you need to feel it. But when you get older, the pitch and your teammates become more important. The more you understand the game, the more a natural reflex it becomes. Any time you can find space or find your teammates space on the pitch can be the difference between scoring a goal, stopping a goal, or something as simple as your team winning and not.” We ask whether it feels like he has a subliminal understanding of how much information he needs, and has trained his scanning routine to ensure he always meets that threshold. It’s perhaps a cerebral question. “Yeah,” he answers. “A lot of the time you don’t think about it. It just happens. But that clip in warm-up is to try to get me used to doing it. So it happens automatically.” It’s like skiers. “Yeah. Exactly. Certain positions will do it more. If you’re a centre back, you’re not necessarily going to check for your goalkeeper every five seconds. Sometimes I might check as the defender receives the ball, then he passes it into me quickly. Three seconds have gone by, but I might not have checked again. Then it might be a guess as to where their players have moved based on the game, their shape, and analysis before the game. You can guess how their movements will be. So sometimes it’s a guesstimate. But you know the way we play, we’ll have a player there. So I know we’ve got a player there.”

We ask how opposition analysis affects this split-second decision making. “If a team is to press, usually the trigger would be a centre-back. If we play in a three, if we play it to one of the wide centre-backs, that’s a good time for them to press. Or our wing-backs, if they drop deep. But if they [the analysis team] are like, ‘They go man to man,’ then I’m going to have to move later to receive and play one touch. If the timing is right and you play one touch, it’s pretty much impossible for them to stop the pass. The only chance is if they intercept the pass or they’re tight on the next man. Little things like that. Sometimes you’ve got to check more than you would in another game because everything’s moving quicker. Other teams might set off and you don’t have to check as much because you can receive, open up, everything’s in front of you.”

We ask whether he prefers to play under an intense press, when one touch can turn the game on its head - or whether it’s more enjoyable to have the ball with time to act. “It’s good when teams press because there’s usually more space,” he says. “We had success with that last year. Teams are very good at sitting in a block. It’s quite easy to sit in a block if you’re well drilled. It’s just shuffling and making sure there’s no gaps. And it’s difficult to break down. You see City, Arsenal, Chelsea… a lot of teams play that way against them. They don’t always win three, four, five-nil. Sometimes they win 1–0 in the last minute. It’s effective to stay in a low block, but it’s hard to break down. So I probably prefer it when they press. There’s more space for you to play. But at the same time, it’s demoralising when you press and they get through it so easily. When you press, it’s got to be perfect because if one person doesn’t press out of ten, it messes everything up. Whereas if you sit in a block, you’ve got one, two, maybe even three reassurances if things mess up.”

In the past two years, Wharton has played on three club stages of contrasting styles and intensity, in which his team context has shifted dramatically: first with Blackburn Rovers as mid-table playoff-chasers in the Championship; then with Crystal Palace as over-performing underdogs in the Premier League and domestic cups; and now in the UEFA Conference League where Palace are, it’s probably fair to say, strong favourites. We ask first how his style has developed to match the Premier League. “It’s a lot quicker and more tactical. You’ve got to think one step ahead because the players are so good. In the Championship, there are more mistakes, but they don’t capitalise as much. In the Premier League, you make a mistake and you don’t get a second chance. I had that in my debut [as a substitute, against Brighton and Hove Albion]. I gave the ball away and they scored first time. The week before, I played Huddersfield in my last game for Blackburn in January, and I read the mistake and scored. But you can’t do that in the Premier League because if you try that, the player doesn’t pass where you’re running. He just turns and then you’re ten yards out of position and they’re attacking. So it’s about being smarter out of possession and in possession. Sometimes they’ll think one step ahead and you’ve got to change your decision last minute.”

In the Conference League, Palace are facing the unusual proposition of being the dominant team in almost every fixture, a challenge in tactical adaptation that, we imagine, probably throws Premier League automatisms out of whack. “Because we’re one of the bigger teams in the Conference, a lot of teams sit off us,” Wharton says. “In the Premier League that pretty much never happens. So it’s been a different style and we’ve had to adapt.” Adapt how? “For me it’s about moving the ball as quick as you can. If you come to one side, can you miss someone out to speed it up? Otherwise it’s: centre-back, right-back, centre-back, centre-back, left-back… and it’s slow. And movement off the ball matters. If they’re sitting back and you just stand there, it’s even easier. You need runs in-behind to threaten them. Then they drop and you’ve got more space in the pockets. You make the runs in-behind, you play it, and hopefully it comes off or you get second balls. That’s a bigger part than you think.” As the key midfield passer, a lot of the pacing responsibility falls on Wharton himself. “If I can see it and tell the lads, I’ve got to do that, because it helps. I probably won’t run in-behind because of the position and shape, but I might say to someone, ‘If I get it around here, I’m going to take a touch and even if I’m not looking, I’m just going to put it in behind for you.’ There was one game at home recently: I tried to play into the pocket and Brennan Johnson spun in-behind. Then they won it and he (Johnson) said to me, ‘The space is in-behind because they’re coming tight.’ So I said ‘Next time I get it, I’m going to take a touch and just spin.’ I got it off the centre-back, and I played it. It hit his back as he was running, but he was a couple yards ahead. On another day he’s in. So talking with teammates about how the game’s going is probably the most effective way. You can set up pre-game saying they’ll do this and that, but the tactics board is never exactly how the game goes.”

Because our data analyst Jake Entwistle is with us, we ask how often Wharton uses numbers to help refine his decision-making. The answer, sadly for Jake, is not much. “I don’t really look at the data too much. I’m not massively obsessed with it. It can show good things, but sometimes it’s not realistic. Running 8k in 90 minutes is probably realistic and you’ll see it. But passing accuracy can look good and not be effective, or can look bad because you’re trying effective passes. There’s a balance you don’t always see in data. And there’s no data for making a run that opens space (we beg to differ - ed). I kind of know if I’ve had a good game, and I can see when I watch it.” So the analysis team is not using data to set him personal goals or targets? “Not really for me. Some players might do it and it might help them. But I don’t think it would change what I do. There are stats like passes that lead to a shot, but again it can be misleading. It depends on the team and game. If you play for City and you’re a centre back you’ll have 99% accuracy. If you’re a team with less possession against City, every time you get the ball City press you, so you’ll have less options. So yeah, it can be good, but you’ve got to look at the wider picture.” The wider picture: win the game. Data is simply too newfangled for The Anachronist.

On the pitch, Adam Wharton controls space and time. His head snaps back and forth to build a picture of his canvas and his low-socked legs paint the picture: quick passing, incisive passing, passing to slow things down and speed them up again. He is a relic of a simpler time, when the Premier League was dictated by easygoing technical prodigies who played like they’d never left the playground. Off the pitch, he is much the same. The world moves at speed around him, London rushes by, but Adam Wharton chooses his own pace. Before we turn on the recording equipment, he tells us about a recent attempt to hire a Lime scooter that was scuppered by the fact he doesn’t yet hold a driving licence. He just turned 22.

That birthday arrived just a week or so prior to our meeting, so we brought him a present. We’d heard on the grapevine Wharton was an avid collector of Topps trading cards, so we’d come armed with a collection of shiny tins. He pulled them open and began sorting the cards into piles with the precision of a veteran. A stack of chromatic cardboard appeared: a shiny Raúl Jiménez, a shiny José Sá, a throwback Steve Bruce. He pulls fellow SCOUTED alumnus Stefanos Tzimas and a ‘streets won’t forget’ version of Zoltan Gera. Sadly for the colour of this story, his own blue-and-red-clad visage does not appear. “I’ve got quite a lot of me, though” he says. “People message me all the time like, ‘I’ve got your card.’” On the long list of possible vices for a young football player, trading cards might be the most innocent. “I’ve got a few more coming tomorrow,” he says, a little sheepish. “I’ve spent way too much money.”

But this is Adam Wharton: a quiet kid from Brockhall Village who engages with his international stardom by staying at home and sorting trading cards. This is how he chooses to slow the pace. He plays video games and watches endless amounts of sport from his apartment. “Tennis, golf, Formula One,” are all on the list. “I’ve been getting really into the Winter Olympics. I’ve never skied or snowboarded in my life, but football allows me to appreciate the skill in other sports. Even figure skating. I tried skating for the first time this winter at Battersea [Power Station]. I was holding onto the side the whole time. And then you see people not even trying and doing four spins. It’s like… I appreciate your talent.”

And many appreciate his. Change will come for Adam Wharton again, as it did weeks after we last met, driven by those who covet his ability from afar. He knows it. We ask how, mentally, he separates the endless, dizzying speed of his professional life from the quiet existence he prefers at home. “There kind of has to be a kind of separation, or you’ll go insane,” he says. “But it’s hard to just flip a switch. After a game you might think, ’I’ve done this bad, this bad, this bad,’ and then you watch it back and it wasn’t as bad as you think. But because you lost or something didn’t work out right, automatically you think it’s worse. And sometimes it’s the same when you win. You think you played really well but then you go into the video room and it’s like, ‘wrong position there, wrong post there.’” He stops and takes a moment to think. “But no, it’s probably different with me because of my age. You see other players, especially ones with families and kids, I think they’re better at switching off. Because if they go home to two kids, a wife, some dogs… you can’t really be in a mood. Maybe it comes with time and age, or having a family, or other priorities.” Times change. People change with them. Whenever it comes for Adam Wharton, we can be sure he’ll choose the tempo.

With thanks to Seb Stafford-Bloor, Billy Carpenter, Sam Tighe, and Yugansh Agarwhal.