Pool C Preview: As England prepare to launch their campaign, how many people wish they were in Jonny Wilkinson's boots? Sure, the money would be nice and the universal respect of your peers gratifying. But then there is all that pressure, the physical risks, the expectation.

When you have climbed rugby's Everest by the age of 24, the next step would normally prove the toughest.

The good news for England and their supporters, if not tomorrow's opponents Georgia at the Subiaco Oval, is that Wilkinson and his advisers are already addressing this troublesome issue.

In fact, listening to the England squad's kicking and sports psychology guru, Dave Alred, it becomes clear that, where Wilkinson is concerned, the only way is up, no matter how rarefied the air.

In Alred's view, and he knows Wilkinson better than most, the remarkable story of his pupil is poised to run and run.

"We don't believe in peaks, you're always on the side of the mountain. The day you think you've got to the top you're in trouble. It's no good comparing yourself with other people, there are always parts of your performance you can improve on."

So come on, pull your socks up. Your kicking success rate in Test rugby this year is "only" 87 per cent. Never mind that the All Blacks outhalf Carlos Spencer's is a modest 63 per cent, you're still competing against yourself.

Which is fine, save for the one nagging doubt sceptics always attach to Wilkinson's name. This is someone who was on the touchline at Alton RFC in his pram, who at the age of eight was determined to play for England, who practises his kicking on Christmas Day and admits his pursuit of perfection has often tilted into obsession.

When it was announced that Wilkinson had taken up the guitar as a hobby, you half expected to hear that the Rugby Football Union had hired Eric Clapton to offer specialist tuition.

The crowded island of Britain has produced its fair share of sporting robots - Steve Davis, Geoff Boycott, Nick Faldo - and in almost every case it has come at a significant personal, or psychological, cost.

Pose these concerns to Wilkinson - ask him what he would be doing if he were not playing rugby, for example - and the blinkers initially seem immovable.

He would probably have gone to Durham University and speculates only that he "might have been setting my sights on a job somewhere. If people knew the way I lived, they might think differently".

Ordinary bloke, extraordinary talent, you decide, until the boy-man suddenly senses it is time to defend himself.

"I've had two bits of advice, both from people at Newcastle. The first is that when you finish playing, all you've got is your reputation. If you want people to talk about you in a nice way you've got to build a good one," he recalls.

The second came from Steve Black, the Falcons' irrepressible fitness trainer.

"He told me to imagine living life with a camera following me 24 hours a day. At the end of each day you've got to be willing to sign for what's been seen by that camera.

"Just because no one's there or you don't fancy it, that's not good enough. You've got to give your best as a person every time it's asked of you."

So there we have it: Wilkinson is not dull, he is just being polite.

And with 704 points in 46 Tests for England since he became their youngest international for 71 years against Ireland in 1998, why bother being Mr Rent-a-quote just because some would prefer it?

Far worse, to Wilkinson, would be propping up the bar at home, watching England on the TV and cursing himself for not training harder. "I couldn't bear not to be here now. If I'd not made the squad it would have been a horrendous feeling," he says.

"Everyone would like to be that player who just turns up and does everything well," Wilkinson confided last year.

"Me, I want to know within myself that I've given myself every opportunity to do well. The benefits are so much higher than the cons of being a bit tired now and again."

Luckily he is among kindred souls within this England squad. Alred, in particular, is alert to the mental dangers of too much repetitive practice that goes with being a place-kicker. Instead Wilkinson is encouraged by Alred to imagine a lady sitting in the crowd behind the dead-ball line - they call her Doris - and to try to land the ball in her lap. Or on to the crossbar, anything for variation.

"It's only repetition if you think you're doing the same thing," stresses Alred. "If you're doing 10 kicks, why not do two sets of five? There are all sorts of things to make sure tomorrow won't be the same as today."

All of it is aimed, of course, at ensuring Wilkinson is even better tomorrow than he was yesterday.

His grandfather played for Norwich City, his father, Phil, was a decent club back row forward and his mother, Philippa, played county squash and tennis, but, as with the Australian cricket captain Steve Waugh and other relentless accumulators, the real inspiration lies within.

"It's nice when your own expectations as a squad exceed those of people outside," says Wilkinson. "I'd like to think I'll always move forward.

"The day I realise I'm not is perhaps the day to call it quits. I'll keep going until I come to a crossroads and don't feel like I'm going anywhere."

Until then, as one perceptive columnist memorably wrote after the grand slam triumph in Dublin, Wilkinson has donated his body to English rugby while he is still alive and kicking.

REPLACEMENTS

England: Mark Regan, Jason Leonard, Danny Grewcock, Lewis Moody, Kyran Bracken, Paul Grayson, Ian Balshaw.

Georgia: D Dadunashvili, S Nikolaenko, V Nadiradze, D Bolghasvili, M Kvirikasvilim I Machkhaneli, B Khekhelashvili.