When Mike Yates closes his eyes and thinks back to some of his earliest childhood memories, he is taken to a moment that marked Michael Owen out as different to the rest. They were about to play together for Liverpool Football Club's under-11s, and the heavy rain outside was battering the corrugated roof of the changing rooms at the Vernon Sangster sports facility across the street from Anfield.

"Michael had given himself a psychological edge," Yates says, recalling Owen's work on his boots. "He'd replaced the two shorter studs in the middle with the longer ones at the back. Michael's dad, Terry, was a footballer, wasn't he? Terry knew that by doing this, Michael would get extra purchase on the grass when pushing away on a sprint. It worked because nobody could beat him for pace—something he had naturally anyway. When Michael was beyond the defender, he was gone."

Goalscoring had been in Owen's blood. His father had grown up in a maisonette on the Rimrose Valley estate in Thornton, seven miles north of Liverpool's city centre, and a career at Everton beckoned until Harry Catterick, the legendary manager, decided to release him in 1970 after only two appearances. A career as a lower-league centre-forward followed.

Michael's childhood memories were filled with trailing his father around non-league football grounds in the mid-to-north Wales region: places like Oswestry Town and Caernarfon. Arenas with distinctive smells, whether it be Bovril from the food hut, Deep Heat from the changing rooms or the outdoor toilets that reeked like they'd been jet-washed with urine.

Yates says it was Owen's blistering pace—"too fast for the opposition and sometimes his team-mates"—that stood out on first inspection. Defenders could not keep up with him, so it was easy for a midfielder to "knock the ball over the top and let him chase after it." Yates also speaks about Owen's unshakable self-belief. "I don't think he had any doubts whatsoever."

Yates was tall for his age and broad-shouldered; Owen was small and lean, whippet thin. They made a classic centre-forward partnership, with service reliably coming from Steven Gerrard and Jason Koumas in the deeper positions. Koumas would later earn 34 international caps for Wales after making his name at Tranmere Rovers.

Owen scores for Liverpool against Arsenal in May 1998. Photo courtesy of Getty Images.

"Through the age groups, Steven and Michael were almost telepathic," Yates says. "Steven was consistently able to find Michael with a first-time pass, but automatically, Michael knew which type of run to make because he'd expect that type of pass. They were clever enough to work out that the relationship they had would help them to where they wanted to go to. Michael broke into Liverpool's first team two years before Steven, but I know Michael couldn't wait for Steven to do the same because he appreciated the level of service he'd receive."

Yates was released by Liverpool as an 18-year-old and spent three seasons in the Scottish Premier League with Dundee. In 2014, he self-published his memoir, Steven Gerrard, Michael Owen and…Me. It was shortlisted in England for the prestigious Cross Sports Book Award.

"When Michael was beyond the defender, he was gone."

Mike Yates

Yates admits Owen possessed a ruthlessness that he never had, believing it explains why one player was asked to attend Lilleshall at the age of 14 and the other was left at home.

"Selfishness is seen as a negative word, but you need it in a football team," he says. "Michael would be through on goal, and I'd be waiting for a pass in the box in a better position for a tap-in. But he'd go for goal. Only rarely did he square it."

Steve Heighway, the former Liverpool great turned academy coach, or his fellow coach Dave Shannon would ask if Owen had seen Yates standing in the box. "Michael would go, 'Er, yeah, course I did,'" Yates says. "And then Dave or Steve would say, 'Well, that's OK then.' It proved to the coaches that his awareness was there."

From its opening in 1984 until its closure in 1999, Lilleshall Hall in Shropshire was the place, like Clairefontaine in France, that assumed responsibility for guiding the country's best young footballers between the ages of 14 and 16.

Those who experienced Lilleshall relate it to a boarding-school education. Players were allowed home one weekend in every four, and for the rest of the time, days were structured: a 6:30 a.m. wake-up call followed by breakfast 45 minutes later, then lessons.

In the afternoon, Blunt—the FA's answer to Heighway—would lead the coaching sessions. On Saturdays, Blunt arranged for each squad of 16 to attend a Premier League game, usually Aston Villa or Coventry City because they were the closest leading clubs. Sundays were matchdays, and for the rest of the time, Owen and the other students were cared for by Lilleshall's housemaster, Tony Pickering, and his wife, Gilly.

Gerrard was highly regarded by Liverpool, but he was small for his age. The matter was of concern to England's selectors, and so, while Owen spent two years living, training and playing at Lilleshall rather than Melwood, Gerrard remained on Merseyside, having been overlooked by England.

"Just a bit of an oversight," Yates says.

Despite his later physical emergence and appointment as Liverpool's captain, the impact of rejection at such a young age affected Gerrard's mindset because self-worth issues followed him throughout his career, as Carragher testified in his autobiography, Carra. Conversations in hotel rooms the night before games reveal that Gerrard never took his apparent high status in the Liverpool team for granted.

Owen and Gerrard pictured together on England duty in October 2000. Photo courtesy of Getty Images.

There were no such problems for Owen, though, whose only knocks on the path towards professionalism involved lost games and missed goalscoring opportunities, as well as dealing with bouts of jealousy from less talented sporting pupils at Idsall School in Shifnal. There, Owen gained 10 GCSEs with C and D grades, which he says would have been better had football not dominated his thoughts.

Owen's age group included three others who made it all the way to the Premier League, confounding Blunt's message that there would only be two. There was Wes Brown, the future Manchester United defender; Michael Ball, who represented Everton at left-back; and Jon Harley, whose progression was marked in Chelsea's first team. Kenny Lunt—who was rated by England in higher esteem than Gerrard—spent the bulk of his professional career at Crewe Alexandra in the old Second Division.

Tom Culshaw, who spent his childhood playing football on the square in front of Gerrard's house on Ironside Road in Huyton's Bluebell council estate, is a year older than Owen. He was made captain of Liverpool's reserve team at 18, but having been released a year later, he says he still wasn’t able to watch a game of football on the television at the age of 22, such was the crushing disappointment. Fifteen years on, he's back at Liverpool academy, where he mentors the youth players.

Culshaw says the coaching at Lilleshall used to be more technical than it was at Liverpool, though that is not a criticism. Owen's game was evolving. Whereas before, he was used to a game of chip and chase, now—under the guidance of Blunt—he was beginning to understand how to receive the ball into feet; how to turn; how to shield possession from the defender; how to use his strength and link play.

It says much about where the power lay back then that Liverpool did not have Owen on contract because the authorities at Deeside Schools had an unwritten rule against young players having formal associations with clubs.

When Liverpool wanted Owen to play in the fourth round of the FA Youth Cup against Sheffield United in December 1995, Heighway had to request special permission from Blunt. The majority of other players scheduled to feature were two years his senior. Owen had not yet turned 16.

"We were a bunch of scallies," says David Thompson, the midfielder who, alongside Carragher, would supply the passes for Owen to score in Liverpool's FA Youth Cup-winning team of 1996.

"We had a Liverpool Sunday league mentality but a Liverpool FC level of ability," he says. "We'd impose ourselves onto the opposition. Sometimes it would take time to start dominating the game, but eventually we'd get there because of the never-say-die attitude. It was easy for Michael to integrate himself into this group because he knew each and every one of us had his back."

"We were a fiery group," he continues. "If any of us lost at anything, we'd all have a sulk on. Sessions at Melwood were at match speed. I can remember some ruthless tackles in training. I used to hate the idea of someone tackling me and taking the ball. Michael was the same. You had to be ferocious to get along.

"Think about it, you were trying to get into the first team—ahead of some of the best players in world football. That challenge is not going to be easy, is it? So the environment was feisty, and you needed the extra talent and attitude to have the edge."

Thompson is a lively character who played 56 times for Liverpool's first team but was perhaps a bit too lively for Houllier, who sold him to Coventry City after giving up on trying to harness his atomic energy within the framework of a tactical plan.

Unlike Owen, Thompson's council-estate upbringing put him in contact with some of life's harsher realities from a younger age. Thompson was brought up in Ford, Birkenhead, in the 1980s, a time when a heroin epidemic afflicted the area. Like Owen, however, Thompson came from a family of Evertonians, crossing the Mersey River from Wirral as a child to watch games at Goodison Park.

Both could have indeed joined Everton but signed instead for Liverpool because of Heighway, who earned the trust of parents because "he did not make false promises," according to Thompson. "Still, he was not afraid to tell us how good we could be."

Owen battles Sheffield Wednesday's Des Walker during a Premiership match in May 1997. Photo courtesy of Getty Images.

Whereas today, clubs are free to offer players and their parents binding contracts from the moment they are spotted, in the 1990s, there was a legal wait until the age of 16. Owen took his time deciding which club to sign for because of the amount of interest in him: At Manchester United, he was introduced to Sir Alex Ferguson, who rated him so highly that he dispatched his assistant Brian Kidd to watch junior games.

Arsenal called, and before a match where Owen sat with his family in Highbury's famous Clock End, he was invited into the changing rooms to meet Ian Wright, the club's all-time top goalscorer. Owen went to Chelsea, Oldham Athletic, Norwich City, Chester, Wrexham and, of course, Everton, where he hoped he might meet Joe Royle but did not.

At Liverpool, Heighway spoke about a "Golden Triangle," which meant satisfying the interests of the player, the parents and the club. With Owen, he reached a compromise because he allowed him to live at home in Hawarden and commute rather than in digs with other players.

During Liverpool's run to the FA Youth Cup final in 1996, Owen had many options. His goal for England against Brazil at Wembley the year before meant that more people knew about him, including Thompson. "He dribbled past the whole team, and I was, like, 'Who's this spiky little fella?'"

When he scored twice in the fourth-round win over Sheffield United, Owen was the youngest player on the pitch by 18 months. The achievement prompted Heighway to pick up the phone to Blunt again because Manchester United were the opponents in the quarter-finals.

"Michael got a hat-trick," Thompson remembers. "We were desperate to beat them, and they were desperate to beat us. Having Michael in our team gave us the edge."

There were another three goals across two legs against Crystal Palace in the semi-final, and though Owen missed Liverpool’s taking a 2-0 lead from the first leg of the final against West Ham United because he was called up to play for England's under-16s, he returned for the second leg at Anfield to face Rio Ferdinand and Frank Lampard.

There, he scored again in a 2-1 victory, ensuring that the youth level would not repeat the demoralizing FA Cup final defeat to United by Roy Evans' senior side the Saturday before, when the squad infamously known as the "Spice Boys" had been castigated for arriving at Wembley wearing white suits.

"Michael was very mature mentally, but physically he wasn't developed," Thompson says. "I think that helped him because he was so agile. He'd get where water couldn't in between defenders. It was as though he could warp from space to space.

Owen trains with the England squad in February 1998. Paul Ince in the background. Photo courtesy of Getty Images.

"We were all blown away by his pace and steely focus. You could see that mentally he was ahead of most players. He knew where he wanted to be and he was going all out to get it."

Owen was closing in on a place in Liverpool's first team. Before his selection, he was subjected to an old Liverpool Boot Room character test.

Dougie Livermore—the first-team coach under Evans—tells a story, which again reveals Owen's unshakable belief, as described by many of those who knew him.

Before Owen made his debut, he was included in Liverpool's matchday squad for a game at Newcastle United, and after he travelled with the team, Evans decided to leave him out. At Melwood the following Monday, Evans told Livermore to have a chat with Owen and explain he was included to give him some more experience and that he'd get his chance to play eventually.

"He'd get where water couldn't in between defenders. It was as though he could warp from space to space."

David Thompson

Livermore decided to approach him after training. Throughout the day, Owen hadn't spoken to any of the coaching staff or management—not even saying hello. After the session, Dougie went over.

"Michael," he said, to which Owen responded abruptly: "What?"

"About the weekend, Michael..."

"Yeah, it was out of order," Owen interrupted.

"What do you mean? It was about gaining experience. The gaffer said you'll get your chance..."

"Give me my chance now. I should have been playing."

Livermore was taken aback by the forthright reaction of someone so young. He went back to Evans, who asked him how the conversation had gone.

"He told me where to go and that he should have been playing," Livermore said.

Evans looked at Livermore.

"Right, then. He's ready."

Owen was given his Liverpool debut against Wimbledon in May 1997 by Evans, an occasion he marked with a goal. With Fowler plagued by injuries, Owen's scintillating form helped in his absence, and by the summer of 1998, he was spearheading England's attack at the World Cup in France alongside Alan Shearer.

Owen's wonder goal against Argentina in the second round instantly made him a global star. It was nothing new to Yates, his old mate from Liverpool's youth teams.

"I'd seen him score goals like that on many occasions," he says, "receiving a through ball almost with his heel before pushing it into space, sprinting at the opposition's defence before finishing coolly past a goalkeeper who was much taller than him. So when that happened in 1998—against some of the best players in the world—it wasn't a surprise. It was a natural thing for him to do."

For Owen, life would become very different. He hired agent Tony Stephens, who worked for the same SFX sports management firm that controlled the affairs of Michael Jordan and David Beckham. Owen already had a boot deal with Umbro. Through Stephens came deals with watchmaker Tissot, Jaguar, Walkers (who released a "Cheese and Owen" branded crisp), Lucozade Sport, Yamaha, Persil and Asda.

Football was changing, and Owen was at the forefront of making it seem a cleaner-looking sport. Evans' Spice Boys were known for selling newspapers on the basis of front-page headlines rather than those on the back, but thanks to Owen's personality, or as he now gently contests, the one manufactured for him by his PR people—who also controlled the affairs of the similarly clean-cut Shearer—that group was on its way out.

Owen and Shearer on the golf course together during preparations for the 1998 World Cup in France. Photo courtesy of Getty Images.

Indeed, Evans himself was out, replaced by Houllier after three dire months in which they were in charge of Liverpool together, when the players did not know who to turn to or who was making the decisions.

Alone, Houllier enforced a new discipline. There were fines for poor time-keeping, fines for wearing the wrong clothes while on official LFC duty and a fresh approach to training sessions at Melwood. While some, like Fowler and Thompson, believed Houllier's methods to be too strict, Owen and Carragher embraced the new regime, realising football was quickly moving into a more professional era, an era they wanted to be a part of.

The relationship between Owen and Fowler is intriguing because Houllier rarely selected them together, and there were rumours about the pair not getting on. Though both players deny that, maintaining to this day there was not a problem between them, the competition for places in Liverpool's attack undoubtedly contributed towards the way their relationship was perceived as well as their public personas.

Fowler was already a hero of the Kop by the time Owen came along, with supporters ordaining him "God." They never felt quite the same way about Owen. Fowler came from the inner-city borough of Toxteth, while Owen had grown up in Wales—and Owen delivered his most noteworthy achievements in an England shirt rather than a Liverpool one. Many in Liverpool consider the city as a separate place from England for a number of political and socio-economic reasons.

Owen is joined by Fowler to celebrate his FA Cup goal against Tranmere in March 2001. Photo courtesy of Getty Images.

Gareth Roberts, editor of the hugely successful and informative website The Anfield Wrap, can remember Owen scoring in his professional debut and the Match of the Day commentator Tony Gubba describing him as "the next Ian Rush or Robbie Fowler."

"As a goalscorer, his record for Liverpool was amazing. Yet it never felt he was loved like either of those legends," Roberts says. Even Owen's song—"Michael Owen scores the goals hallelujah"—wasn't sung as often or with as much gusto as those dedicated to his peers, he says, adding that many Liverpool fans felt Owen valued England over Liverpool and that he was more interested in his brand and his image than with the fortunes of the club.

"Owen, though, was best friends with Jamie Carragher, one of our own," Roberts adds. "And if he was really what many of us thought he was, would a Bootle-born lad have been so close to him? Now, it's difficult to say, as any Liverpool fan's conversation about Owen is seen through the prism of perhaps his worst decision from our perspective—moving to Manchester United."

Erik Meijer, the Dutch butcher's boy who earned the nickname "Mad Erik" in his brief, frenetic time with Liverpool, agrees Owen was career-driven and that this made him appear more distant to his team-mates, the media and even supporters.

"Everywhere Michael went with the team, there was a buzz," Meijer says. "The young girls, the teenage footballers, all the cameras were focused in one direction. I remember being at an airport and a bunch of people were looking his way. 'Erik, Erik, let me hide behind you,' Michael said. That's the other side of being a very popular sports person. It's a different type of pressure, both mentally and physically.

"Michael's game was based on speed, being able to use his hamstrings. He suffered a lot from muscle problems. Maybe that was a result of pressure: always being at the press conference, always 'Michael, Michael, Michael.' He was England's footballer—the world's footballer."