SID LOWEtalks to Manchester United goalkeeper David de Gea who is busy preparing to represent all-conquering Spain at the London Olympics

DAVID DE Gea puffs out his cheeks. “Imagine it,” he says. “Standing there on the podium, the national anthem playing, a gold medal round your neck . . . it is a dream.”

It is also tempting to tell him to snap out of it and stop being so greedy; tempting, too, to demand that he and his compatriots leave something for the rest of us. Spain are world and European Champions. Last summer they won the European Under-21 Championship and it is barely a fortnight since they won this summer’s European Under-19 Championship. And now they want the Olympics.

If you think that Spain are satiated by success, think again. If you think that the Olympics do not matter, you are wrong. Success in South Africa and Ukraine only increases the desire and the pressure, presenting them with a unique opportunity to be world, European and Olympic champions simultaneously. And while the British remain unsure what to make of football at the Games, a legacy perhaps of the 50-year absence of representatives in the sport, or of the improvised feel of a one-off team thrown together for a single summer, the Spanish have no such doubts.

The Manchester United goalkeeper sits on the steps at the Spanish Football Federation’s HQ in Las Rozas, north-west of Madrid. It is half past 10 at night but is still hot. Down the passageway, across the main pitch and into the building opposite, a collection of paintings was unveiled in the spring. They depict the five greatest moments of Spain’s footballing history. There was no question which moments would be chosen. One of the paintings shows Atlético Madrid’s Kiko at Camp Nou, scoring the goal that won Spain an Olympic gold in 1992.

De Gea is too young to remember it – he was one at the time – but he, like the rest of Spain, will have seen the goal hundreds of times, fully aware of its significance. “This is a huge event, worldwide,” he says, “one that has enormous repercussions.”

And De Gea looks surprised at the suggestion that for a footballer the Olympics do not really hold that much that attraction. “They’re attractive, they’re attractive, he insists. “We’re talking about a unique competition; special, completely different. One we’re taking very seriously.”

How seriously the Spanish are taking it is apparent in the names that make up their squad. Juan Mata, Jordi Alba and Javi Martínez will all be there, having been winners at Euro 2012. Sergio Busquets, too, wanted to go. “That,” De Gea says, “says it all. These are players who have won everything with the senior side and yet they desperately wanted to be here with us too.”

Mata, like De Gea, was among those who helped Spain win the European Under-21 Championship last summer and that side provides the basis of this one: of the starting XI in the 2011 final only Dídac Vilà and the injured Thiago are not in Spain’s Olympic squad and Vilà’s place has been taken by Alba. Spain have not used the over-age rule to pack in random star names; instead they have chosen continuity.

“We have played together for a long time, we know each other, how we play, how we work, and we get on well,” De Gea says, as Iker Muniain, his inseparable room-mate, stands a few metres away giggling. “We look forward to meeting up and playing together. We play like the senior side. The style is the same at all levels, which facilitates things: bring the ball out from the back, keep possession, work gaps to create chances. It’s like that from the Under-15s all the way through. That’s the Spanish way and it has triumphed.

“The senior side has set the bar so high and, whether we like it or not, that puts the pressure on us. It also motivates us, though. We want to try to emulate them. It won’t be easy but we know that we have a good team. People have asked me if I would like to be the man of the tournament. I’d much rather it was one of the attacking players.”

Attacking players like Mata, who has won Euro championships at senior, Under-21 and club level in the last 12 months; Atlético Madrids Adrián, who was second top scorer in last year’s Europa League; Athletic Bilbao’s Muniain, finalist in the Europa League and the Copa del Rey; or Malaga’s creative forward Isco, described by the former sporting director of the federation as the most talented player of his generation.

At the end of last season, as Manchester United’s players packed their bags and went their separate ways, still unable to explain how the league title had escaped them in the very last minute of the very last game, Ryan Giggs turned to De Gea and said: “See you in the final.”

It seems plausible to imagine the 21-year-old Spaniard playing at Wembley on August 11th. It is not so easy to imagine Giggs.

The conversation naturally turns to Manchester United and De Gea’s first season in a new country and in a new league. “My English is getting better,” he says. “I understand most things but I find it harder to speak. English football is different, especially for a goalkeeper. It’s more aggressive, more physical. It’s far, far harder. The ball is in the air more and you get pushed about. And the referees don’t blow anything!”

It was precisely that side of the game that led Alex Ferguson to demand that De Gea put on weight. The question is: How? He grins: “Eat.”

Eat? In England? “Well . . .” he says, leaving a pause that invites one to add the punch line. The reputedly terrible state of English food is a Spanish obsession, almost a comic staple. “Eat well and lots of gym work,” he continues. “We’re not talking about a huge amount anyway: just four or five kilos. The other thing is that I am still young and I will naturally fill out anyway.”

And the eye operation? “I’m just short-sighted, like loads of people. I wear contact lenses – in fact, I’ve got new ones – and I can see perfectly well, just like anyone. I don’t understand the fuss. I put lenses in and . . . perfecto.

“There have been doubts in the first season but I always had faith in my ability. The pressure at an elite club like United is huge but Ferguson just told me to do what I did at Atlético. You have to be as strong when things go wrong but I don’t get nervous. Mistakes are normal; everyone makes them.

“I think that at times people don’t realise that it’s not easy. You travel a lot, you work hard. When you come home in Spain, your family are waiting for you. When you’re in England, they’re not.

“For a Spaniard it’s different. What are the worst things? From a Spaniards’ perspective, it rains a lot, it’s cloudy, it gets dark very early, maybe you’re a bit bored. The winter can be hard: playing over Christmas is a big change. The food: it’s not bad but it’s not the same. You miss friends and family. People don’t always appreciate that.

“But those are the sacrifices you have to make to keep on growing and to improve as a footballer. And when you play, when you go on to the pitch, when you hear that atmosphere, when you play the game, that small sadness gets washed away. And then you’re happy.”