SINCE Jack Grealish belted out a version of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac to celebrate Man City winning the Champions League, he has stayed true to his word.
GRANT ROLLINGS imagines the party boy’s postcards from his ultimate bender.
Istanbul, June 10
WHAT a night! I’m still buzzing from that win over Inter Milan.
It all started with a few cans of Heineken as we passed the European Cup around.
Did I really sing Don’t Look Back In Anger with the lads in the dressing room?
It should really have been Champagne Supernova.
Not sure why I took so much luggage with me.
I didn’t need all those designer shirts after all.
I was still in my City top at six o’clock the next morning, living it up with the big man, Haaly.
Desperately needed fresh air.
Took a nice nap with the trophy on the plane.
Ibiza, June 11
ONLY nine hours in Ibiza, going to have to hit it hard.
Fuel up with some grub at Tatel, a nice little diner by the beach, before heading to Pacha to party with Fodey.
Four hours in the club.
Some cheeky so- and-so even offered me a wheelchair at the airport.
Good job I had some shades to hide the red eyes.
Manchester, June 12
HONESTLY, like, what time is it? Got my Dolce & Gabbana jim-jams on and it’s dark out.
Been at a nightclub, again. Up on the stage singing to the crowd.
Only a few hours ago I was in the centre of Manchester on a bus.
Makes a change from the Lamborghini.
This coach didn’t have a proper roof on it, but there was lots of booze.
Lads drenched me in bubbly, so I had to take my shirt off. Just for a change.
Malta, June 15
REALLY needed some r&r, so it was nice to chill out for a few days at a training camp with the England boys.
Then I jumped on a plane in Birmingham and it was off to Malta for the Euro qualifier.
Gareth didn’t play me.
Something about my ability to down shots not being a relevant criteria in the fitness test.
Still, it was wicked to cheer on the boys from the stands – and add another stamp to my passport.
Las Vegas, June 20-26
WHAT happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?
Six days in the party capital of the world, showing off my moves at Zouk nightclub.
Had my photo taken with a lovely air hostess called Yasmine.
Off to see the missus next in France.
South of France, end of June
THIS spot is right swanky – it’s all chandeliers and silk.
The marble is almost as well sculpted as my six pack, which I’ve been told not to show off so much at the Hotel du Cap-Eden-Roc.
Food portions are a bit stingy – even less calories than Pep lets us eat.
Great to be back with Sasha for a few days. The Press call it an on/off relationship.
I’m not sure that’s fair, just because I’m off to Ibiza next without her.
Ibiza again, July 5
IT’S hot, hot, hot and the air hostesses here are super-friendly.
But I doubt anyone noticed me as I popped on a baseball cap and some cool, white circular shades and enjoyed chatting to some girls.
Best to keep things low key I reckon.
I also bumped into Wayno – no, not Rooney.
I mean Wayne Lineker. We might have had more shots than his brother Gary.
Some people say I shouldn’t hit the deck so much.
But they obviously haven’t heard me DJing!
Next stop…Far East
PEP’s fixed a nice little trip to Japan and South Korea…I might even play some football.