Destroyer of the Wallabies as England captain at the 2003 World Cup, Martin Johnson now looms large once more as team manager and is the biggest obstacle between the Australians and a coveted victory at Twickenham, writes Greg Growden.
Out in the lush Surrey countryside, where the England team has been hiding away this week, it seems to be all fun and frolics. Not quite.
At the prestigious Pennyhill Park resort, holidaymakers were bobbing up and down in the outdoor spa, and the British media - which had taken over the main dining room while awaiting the announcement of the England Test line-up - jostled noisily for a second bacon sandwich. Waiters were running here, there and everywhere.
Suddenly, it all went quiet. An enormous man had appeared in their midst and there was a dramatic parting of the crowd. The new team manager had arrived. The scribes all nodded.
It seemed as if some were almost contemplating bowing to him as if he were a dignitary. Which is exactly what he is in the rugby world. Even some years after he gave the game away as a player, Martin Johnson still exudes that authority. He remains an imposing figure, and when he is present, the media talk in hushed tones. He is one of the few men they actually respect.
Still, many are surprised he is here in this setting in a new, important role. When Johnson, who gave England its biggest sporting triumph in decades when he led his country to the 2003 World Cup triumph in Sydney, finished his football career, he made it known he wasn't interested in coaching.
He would do something else. He kept saying that until Brian Ashton - a formidable coach but a surly character who struggled with everything off the field that goes with being the head of the England team - was moved on. Suddenly, Johnson was it - the England team manager.
For Johnson, it was again all about doing something for his country. That was exactly as it was during his mighty football career, highlighted by the moment five years ago when that deeply struck stone-faced figure went into raptures, madly shaking the World Cup trophy above his head in the middle of Sydney's Olympic stadium after England had finished off the Wallabies during extra-time in the final.
It didn't matter that Johnson had no coaching or managerial experience. He would get around that by appointing good men around him - in particular, former Wallaby Brian Smith, who is doing most of the actual coaching, providing the team with a more expansive, faster game plan. A bit of Australia up north. And it appears Johnson is embracing it.
Like Clive Woodward before him, Johnson is more of an overseer, a mentor to the new-look team, an off-field organiser, the front man, an inspirational figure as England dramatically transform the look of their side with an assortment of new players, who have taken to Smith and Johnson's eagerness to get them playing at high speed.
And while Johnson may spend a lot of his time at training on the sideline, arms folded, watching others do the work, it is his sheer presence that is expected to give England a decided edge. He has that look that tells players he will stand for no nonsense, but that he also knows exactly what they are going through.
Wallabies coach Robbie Deans says of Johnson's presence in the England set-up: "Martin is obviously a legend in the game, for good reason. He was a great captain, and hugely influential on the field. He'll bring that forward into the coaching area, because of the history. He's a bloke who is accustomed to winning, likes to win, and that will rub off onto the players."
Deans said it was crucial for teams to have characters like Johnson hovering around dressing rooms, because impressionable players responded to winners. But it seems Johnson has had to change his ways. Not surprisingly, being one of England's most recognisable sporting figures, his first few weeks as the new manager prompted a media frenzy.
Every local newspaper, television and radio station focused on him, analysing his every movement. They all seem impressed he still looked like he could take off the team trackpants, put on the Superman suit, run on and again dismantle the Wallabies lineout.
Early in the week, he was on BBC television being interviewed by his old England teammate Lawrence Dallaglio. He reminded Johnson that during his playing days, he enjoyed sleeping in and wasn't too enthusiastic about attending team meetings. As the manager, Johnson's life has become far more regimented.
"I'm now up at 6am, wide awake and thinking," he told Dallaglio. "As a player, you knew when to switch off - especially when you had confidence in the people around you. You could go to Thursday training, and then switch off. But it's different as a coach. It is difficult to switch off."
But the player values remain. Johnson will continue to stress to the new England team the importance of playing for each other. "You're playing for your mates. That's what it is all about. After you come in after a tough Test match, it is best when you can look around that dressing room, and look every other player in the eye and you don't have to say anything."
The following day Johnson was swamped by the media at Pennyhill Park. As he has had a long association with the British press troupe, touring all over the world with them, he knew which ones were trying to get the provocative one-liner out of him to inspire a wild headline and which ones wanted the good analytical quote.
He knew who to be careful around. He knew the ones who wanted the proper information to flesh out the story. As ever, he towered over them all. They weren't giving him too much cheek. And, unlike Woodward, who used these sessions to toss firecrackers under the backside of his then Wallabies counterpart Eddie Jones, Johnson doused everything down.
For most of the session, which came across like a fireside chat, Johnson had the makings of a smirk on his face, and appeared to genuinely enjoy the banter between himself and the diverse characters in the English press corps.
Sitting next to him was England scrum coach Graham Rowntree, who was getting noticeably agitated by the frequent questions about how the supposedly hopelessness of the Wallabies pack. Rowntree bit, but Johnson held his decorum, remained calm and made all the right comments, including using the age-old tactic of dramatically building up the opposition, and in the end being ever so nice without giving anything away.
He didn't criticise anyone, would not play anyone off anyone else, and half an hour later was off down the stairs for more pressing business. The smirk remained. Dealing with the media was as easy as winning an unopposed lineout at training.
After all, he has been around far too long, knows too much about what is exactly going on, and understands the importance of being polite and measured. He also knows that to keep them off his back, he has to do what he does best - winning. Which is why the Wallabies remain ever so wary of Martin Johnson.