At the age of 21, Viktor Johansson has faced a defining dilemma. Twice. Reflecting on his privileged upbringing on the outskirts of Stockholm, he remembers being indoctrinated with the benefits of getting an education and, sooner rather than later, setting off on a admirable career.

 

Few around him opted for something as unconventional as the life of a footballer. His father, once keen on the idea himself, ultimately had to abandon those ambitions when Viktor was born. This kid has now grown into a bewhiskered man. Carrying the torch lit by his father, Viktor has his sights set mercilessly on not letting society define his dreams, rather than himself: being the next big thing in English football.

 

Ahead of his move to Birmingham to join the prestigious academy of Aston Villa, in 2016, several European teams had shown interest. What set Aston Villa apart was the genuine interest and plan they presented him with. "For the first time, it really felt like I could make it,” he says.

 

Here he was. Right in the heart of English football, closely monitored by prominent coaches, following in the footsteps of others. There were striking contrasts between the comfort of home and staying with a host-family in an unfamiliar community. "I cried myself to sleep more often than not,” Johansson says.

 

It all got worse when his life-long friends from back home went on to university and uploaded pictures on social media of all the things they were doing, with Viktor starting to question his motives for leaving in the first place. He paints a picture of an unforgiving, fiercely competitive atmosphere in the academy. He once had his boots drenched by an unknown team-mate – more often than not, these 16-year-olds treated each other like the enemy. "On my first day, my coach told me that if I had to ‘break a leg, then break a leg'," he says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After three months in England, his dream would take another hit. Viktor was diagnosed with four fractures in his lower back and all doctors he met advised him to quit, before one finally offered surgery. To him, even the slimmest chance of reward outweighed the risks.

 

With his contract expiring in 2018, he was at a similar crossroads as two years before. And again, he seemed to be left with no reasons to stop betting on his footballing ability. For the moment, at least. "I've never understood why people my age are in such a rush. Most of us will work until our 70s, time is the only thing we're guaranteed,” he says.

 

Luckily for him, Viktor was offered a deal with Leicester City. "Things have really turned for me, both personally and professionally," he says, before cracking open a round box, containing small tea bag-like portions of tobacco. It's called snus, used by around one in four Swedish men, but recently of interest of Wada, the World Anti-Doping Agency.

 

EU regulations meant that snus is illegal to purchase in the UK, but as Johansson brings it from Sweden, there are no legal worries for him. It’s becoming increasingly fashionable among footballers and a “healthy” substitute for smoking, he says. He puts one underneath his lip. "Today, I'm no longer sure where I feel most at home, maybe the snus has become my way of holding on to Sweden,” Johansson says.

 

At first glance, Viktor seems like an unusually open-minded, sophisticated person and a figurehead for a generation that prioritises experiences and travelling, rather than owning a home or starting a family. He speaks indeed in high regard of his time in England – notably the way he now sees the world and how this experience has helped him become independent and mature more quickly than others his age – but by the look of it, it appears to be an inaccurate image.

 

He knows, before being handed the menu at an Italian restaurant, what he'll eventually order. He will then cut the spaghetti carbonara in small pieces to avoid having to use a complementary knife to his fork. Sitting in a grey, fitted tracksuit, he waves aside the waiter's idea of a glass of water only for him to request a carafe. He knows how this will be perceived, but he doesn't care. Outside of football, he sees himself as a simple person with simple needs. He follows the football – for him, it just happened to take him to England.

 

Aspiring to become a professional footballer since the age of 6, Viktor has long had his sights set. There will soon come a defining moment when he will be assessed as to whether he has what it takes. Whether the platform he has built, brick by brick, is steady enough. "If not, then I'll be 22, have no regrets that I followed my dreams,” he says.