Williams given licence to thrill

"A few years ago we were being urged to go down the route of following a style of play that had been successful in the southern hemisphere and for England," he wrote in his Welsh newspaper column.

"It was all about big players bulldozing into the nearest opponent they could find. It was totally alien not only to the players, but the Welsh culture. Not surprisingly it ended in tears. Now you find a Welsh team brimful of confidence and playing in a style to which they are not only accustomed but are very very comfortable with. Now it is only alien to the opposition." Williams seems the very symbol of that revolution which was really instigated on one World Cup night in Sydney. The Neath kid, who had been briefly lauded as Welsh rugby's David Beckham around the turn of the millennium, had long become a forgotten hero when he was drafted in to a largely second-string side to play New Zealand in an insignificant endof-group match at the Olympic Stadium.

Only all that night, his lightning feet and quick brain made him look for all the world like a naughty schoolboy running the teachers ragged, a vision that Sir Clive Woodward won't have forgotten when perusing his Lions selections.

There are those who fear that Williams's size would be mercilessly punished by monster New Zealand backs - and they will point to how 6ft 4in French winger Aurelien Rougerie ploughed through him the other week - yet in an age of international teams' f i ne ly hone d , structured plans, here is a man who has the daring and talent to make a mockery of them.

He is absolutely worth the gamble for Woodward because he can offer tales of the unexpected, turning defence into blistering attack with his priceless ability to use his low centre of gravity and dazzling footwork to twist and turn out of the tightest corners, inventing space for himself.

Even Graham Henry, the former Wales coach now steering the All Black ship, concedes: "He has a bit of the X-factor about him." Not to mention a try strike rate - 24 in 29 internationals - which only the freakish All Black Joe Rokocoko can currently better.

The Welsh triumph, based on coach Mike Ruddock's courage and made flesh by the skills training of his Aussie-born assistant Scott Johnson, has been to practically give Williams licence to maraud at will.

"We will not play the way others want us to play," is the mantra of Johnson.

Flair and adventure can win the game's biggest prizes, he insists. Perhaps led by Williams who, at 28, seems to be at his adventurous peak yet is happy to see that the manic hero worship which once fazed him so badly is now being loaded on others better able to cope.

These days, it's Henson who is the pin-up boy and darling of the gossip columnists desperate to know if he really is courting the Church girl, leaving Williams to exult: "He can keep the adulation! I was quiet and shy and never did like the limelight."

He'd better get used to it again, though, since what story could possibly better reflect the tale of Welsh rugby renaissance than that of the little guy who tried and tried again to remind everyone in professional rugby's muscle-bound world that small could still be beautiful.