Secrets of Wilko the wonder

Although the Newcastle Falcons flyhalf shares a house with his rugbyplaying brother Mark, his parents followed them and live just 20 minutes away in Corbridge.

However, Phillipa, who was famously buying some vegetables when her son kicked the World Cup-winning dropgoal, says she doesn't miss Jonny when he goes on tour with England.

"It's almost a relief," she says, "He creates so many worries. When he goes away, we all sort of chill out."

She admits to getting "extremely nervous" when her son plays and, although she can't bear to watch, she is the "proudest mum on the planet".

Earmarked for greatness from the age of four when he played for Farnham's Under-8s, Jonny was always talented and ambitious. Phil says: "He was always very good at ball games so, as soon as he could pick up a bat, we let him get on with it and provided as many outlets as possible.

"Aged 14, there was a little mission statement he wrote: 'to be the best and most respected fly-half in the world'."

Phil, who also acts as his son's manager, says his role is to allow Jonny to concentrate on his rugby. "He is in demand and my job is to ensure commitments are covered and it doesn't encroach upon his rugby time," he says.

One of the most vital ingredients in Wilkinson's life is his brother Mark, who also plays for Newcastle Falcons.

"My brother is my best mate, I rely on him for everything. And now Mark's involved at the club, playing and helping with fitness training. It's not everyone's ideal, but it's perfect for us."

In the video, Wilkinson lets his guard down to reveal the trauma of the induction ceremony after winning his first cap, how he plans to retire soon after he's 30, and how he still panics every match-day morning.

Wilkinson describes the bizarre ceremony surrounding his first Test cap, against Ireland in 1998, when, at 18 years and 314 days, he became the youngest England player for 71 years.

The fly-half recalls: "The first cap tradition is that the older players buy one drink for themselves and one for the new cap.

That means you end up having about 21 drinks.

"I got a few drinks down the line and decided that was enough."

But worse was to follow after the drinks. Each new cap has to sing to his older, cauliflower-eared team-mates, as Wilkinson recalls: "I panicked. In the end I went with a hymn, All Things Bright And Beautiful. I think that was a first. People didn't like it. I thought it was quite a cheery little song. But it doesn't matter what you sing, you get shouted down, abused by the older guys. It was awful.

"I woke up the next day at the hotel and when I got out of bed I realised that I had been sick during the night.

"I spewed a couple more times in the team coach on the way to the airport. It was pretty disappointing . . . but I've never done it again."

Wilkinson also provides an interesting insight into his match-day preparations. He says: "I cannot handle waking up and just dealing with it. It takes me time to adapt to the pressure of a big game. I wake myself up far too early and then I realise it's match-day and I start to panic. So I go back to sleep. By the time I wake up the third time, I can face the big game." Wilkinson recognises the threat of serious injury, even at 24. He says: "I hope I can retire fit and able sometime just after my 30th birthday. The dream would be having no ifs or buts.

"I don't want to finish playing and spend the rest of my time asking 'what if ' because we'd missed out on things."