People try to find out, but no one knows truth about what happened in my family

As controlled on the pitch as he is off it, Liverpool’s Dutch master Virgil van Dijk will be a major obstacle for City today

VIRGIL van DIJK sits in a suite overlooking the pitch at Anfield. His posture is upright and still. He does not fidget or fret. He does not clasp his hands together and then unclasp them. He does not have any verbal ticks. He is calm. He is as elegant and composed off the pitch as he is on it.

He talks as he defends. He does not like the idea of making sliding tackles, he says early in the conversation, because that would mean he had been out of position. It would imply a measure of desperation in his performance. It would imply he were somehow ill-prepared.

It would imply disorder and Van Dijk does not like disorder. Rio Ferdinand, a defender in the same mould, said earlier this week that the only time a defender should be on the floor is if he drops to his knees in despair when his team concedes a goal.

Van Dijk, 27, an imperious centrehalf who has helped to transform Liverpool’s defence since Jurgen Klopp signed him from Southampton in January, is of the same mind. A sliding tackle would imply a lack of anticipation. And perhaps most of all, a lack of control. And so his definition of professional satisfaction has nothing to do with grandiose gestures or glory. ‘When you come out of the game with a clean sheet and maybe one foul, no yellow cards, no slide tackles, you can be a very happy man,’ he says.

It’s not that Van Dijk doesn’t like a fight. His indomitability, the steel he has brought to the Liverpool back line, is one of the things Liverpool fans acclaim him for. ‘He loves fighting,’ Watford’s muscular forward Troy Deeney said last week when he was listing the things he hated about playing against Van Dijk. Van Dijk nods.

‘You can’t be afraid to mix it,’ says Van Dijk, mentioning Salomon Rondon and Glenn Murray as others who provide a test of brawn. ‘I do enjoy the physical confrontation. I don’t like it when I need to jump for headers every minute but I like to get in a battle. I like to show them who is going to win it today.

‘You need to make your presence felt and to show that nothing is going to get past you. They want to let you know they’re there. You need to do that as well. You need to show them that you’re not going to get anything from me, try it with the other one and if you can’t get it there, either, then you have a problem.’

He has the same reaction to the questions he is asked. He doesn’t get flustered by any of them. Even the ones he doesn’t really want to answer. He’s heard them before anyway. They’re the ones about why he doesn’t use ‘Van Dijk’ on the back of his shirt, just ‘Virgil’. He sees them coming. He anticipates them and he deals with them neatly and cleanly. ‘Personal is personal,’ he says. He says I can ask whatever questions I want but there are some things he would prefer to keep to himself.

So we talk about the name on the shirt first of all. Because, in a way, the fact that life did not run smoothly for him when he was a kid growing up in Breda in the south of Holland was a forerunner of a football career that has been one long triumph against the odds.

Willem II, the club who had nurtured him as a kid, prevaricated when it came to offering him a pro contract so Van Dijk moved to Groningen. He played for the U-23s, not the first team. Then, he forced his way into the first team and, in time, won a move to Celtic.

At Celtic, people said he was a good player in a bad league. He wanted to prove the doubters wrong again. So he went to the Premier League. At Southampton, some thought he would not thrive at a top-four team.

There were family issues, too. ‘In my background,’ says Van Dijk, ‘it’s never been perfect. My mum split with my father when I was young. It was always a bit of trouble between my mum and my dad.

‘My mum tried to take care of us as best she could. I was in the academy of Willem II since I was eight. They took care of me very well. I got picked up for training and brought back every time. I had a fantastic youth. I had great times with my brother, who is two years younger than me.

‘Where I lived, it’s not the best area in Breda but when you live there and grow up there, you don’t know anything else. I had a lot of family around us. Our grandma and grandfather came by almost every day. It was great.’

When I suggest much has been read into the fact that since he joined Celtic in 2013, he has chosen to have ‘Virgil’ on the back of his shirt rather than Van Dijk, he smiles slowly. Still no sliding tackle. Just a neat interception and a measured clearance.

‘I don’t think there’s too much to read into it,’ he says. ‘Nobody really knows the reason. It’s something personal. I don’t have any contact with my father at the moment.

‘I changed it when I went to Celtic. I discussed it with those around me. I don’t speak with my father daily and that’s it. My brother and sister still have my father’s name. I still use Van Dijk for other things. My kids have it as well.’

Subject over. Van Dijk moves on. He’s good at that, too. The man who became the world’s most expensive defender when Liverpool paid Southampton £75million says he is not typically Dutch like that.

He exudes clarity. He draws lines and he does not step over them. There is a certainty about him that has affected his team-mates, too. The best players raise the level of those around them and it is no coincidence that Joe Gomez is earning rave reviews this season, just as Andrew Robertson really began to flourish after Van Dijk’s arrival last season. These men are fine, fine players in their own right but the Holland captain has helped them get to new heights. As Liverpool face their sternest domestic test of the season so far this afternoon, putting their unbeaten league record on the line against champions Manchester City at Anfield, Van Dijk’s attitude does not waver. He does not feel the need to make the same kind of claims for himself that others make for him. He smiles at the idea that his arrival on Merseyside transformed Liverpool into title challengers. ‘There wasn’t any crisis in the defence,’ he says. ‘A club want to improve always and I was happy they wanted me but it wasn’t like I came in and changed everything. It was about the rest of the boys around me. ‘I don’t make a big fuss out of things. I can put things in perspective. That’s a good thing to have in this life. A £75m transfer fee: if you don’t handle that well, it could be bad in all sorts of ways. But I know that certain things in life are more important than people telling me I made a mistake in a game and I’m not worth £75m. ‘I can’t change that. I’m just working hard every day and I treat things for what they are. Not all Dutch people have that. But I know what is