This is a story like little else in sport. It is a saga spanning the 17-year career of the world’s most famous rugby player. Jonny Wilkinson has been driven by a relentless quest for improvement and the impossibility of perfection both on and off the field. He now has only two games left to play. On Saturday, in Cardiff, Wilkinson will lead Toulon, the defending European champions, in the Heineken Cup final against Saracens. He turns 35 on Sunday and then, six days later, in his last match as a professional player, he is due to captain Toulon in the French championship decider against Castres in Paris.

As his mentor Steve Black remembers, it was in Paris that Wilkinson delivered a lecture on quantum physics, in perfect French, while sharing a conference stage with two Nobel Prize winners. But there has always been something grounded about Wilkinson, despite his often tortuous introspection, and it seems strangely true to his character that he considers himself a protege of Black – a former Geordie bouncer-turned-trainer responsible for much of his physical and psychological development.

Black stresses that great achievements can never be attained without pain and even suffering. And so, alongside his iconic status as the man who did most to help England win the World Cup in 2003, the Wilkinson story is streaked with hurt. He has endured terrible injuries, doubt and panic attacks while trying to live up to the highest moral standards. It is a rugby life that has bordered on the incredible – and sometimes left us incredulous amid Wilkinson’s philosophical reveries.

There will never be another rugby player quite like Wilkinson – discovered at school in Hampshire by a teacher called Steve Bates. A former scrum-half with Wasps, he shaped Wilkinson’s life by persuading the shy Surrey teenager to follow him to Newcastle and a rugby career. Bates and Black provided the pillars on which Wilkinson built his extraordinary legacy and unique character.

He might be revered by fans and coaches but fellow players appreciate him most. Alongside Black and Bates, his former England team-mate Richard Hill, and Nick Kennedy, who won the Heineken Cup with him at Toulon last year, offer memories and insights into the different stages, and ages, in the life of Jonny Wilkinson.

I: ‘An intelligent lad but not very worldly …’, 1995-1998



A young Jonny Wilkinson in action for Newcastle against Richmond in 1998., Photograph: David Rogers/Getty Images Photograph: David Rogers/Getty Images

Steve Bates: I went to Lord Wandsworth College in Hampshire when Jonny was going into the lower sixth. The headmaster said: “We’ve got a couple of guys coming into sixth-form rugby next year who are pretty useful.” This was Jonny and Peter Richards [the future England scrum-half]. The most striking thing was that Jonny was also a good cricketer, a good basketball player and he worked extremely hard academically. I spoke to him about going to Wasps, who I’d played for. But of course he ended up following me to the north-east, where Rob Andrew asked me to work with him.

I gave my notice to Lord Wandsworth in November 1995 but I worked the extra term and kept coming back to chat to Jonny about professional rugby. The other guys at Newcastle had never heard of Jonny but I said, “Look, there’s a guy at school who is really worth looking after.” With Rob, our obsession was to build a side who might win the European Cup. That became a blueprint in terms of recruitment. I only ever had one name pencilled in for the role of taking over from Rob at 10 and that was Jonny. We made a call pretty early on and had real expectations Jonny would live up to that European Cup-winning plan.

At Newcastle I introduced him to Rob and Dave Alred [Wilkinson’s kicking guru]. But the key figure was Steve Black. If Jonny hadn’t come to Newcastle it’s difficult to see how their paths would have crossed. That’s a very significant factor for Jonny because Blackie’s a great encourager and fosters a real self-belief in people. He spends a lot of energy very subtly getting the best out of people. That was a huge benefit for Jonny, who sometimes suffered from self-doubt. Blackie has been instrumental in Jonny’s development and that would never have happened if he hadn’t followed me to Newcastle.

Steve Black We quickly realised that he had that key ingredient – he wanted to get better. He was obviously an intelligent lad but not very worldly. We tuned into each other’s sense of humour and, since then, it’s been a marvellous relationship. We’re both pretty obsessive characters and we just gelled.

SBt The original plan was that he might also do a degree at Durham but in that first season he was picked for the England squad and came off the bench against Ireland [in April 1998]. He never got the opportunity to go to Durham.

II: The Tour of Hell & the Art of Sacrifice, 1998-2003



Richard Hill The first time we met was when Jonny joined the England squad in 1998. I was injured for the game in which he came on but I was on his table that night of his debut. I wouldn’t say his appetite for ferocious work and defence was quite there at that stage. I think that all stemmed from the summer tour – [the 1998 Tour of Hell to Australia, New Zealand and South Africa].

England had a weakened squad because of so many injuries. I was one of the first to miss out as I’d had a back operation. Jonny went on tour and he suffered on that terrible day against Australia. The 76-0 game. One of the foundations for shaping his amazing defensive qualities was a consequence of having a day he’d want to forget. He missed a few tackles and a few kicks, and that did not sit comfortably with him. Jonny went from the person who missed a couple of tackles in that match to being one of the best pound-for-pound tacklers in the world. His character and desire became clear.

There were many times with England where we’d finish training and I’d have a shower and drive off. You could call it dusk but I’d say it was more darkness and Jonny would be out there goal-kicking. On the 49th kick out of 50 he might shade it to the left and so he’d go on to do another 50.

SBt Blackie, more than me, tempered that fierce appetite Jonny developed for training. He had to because, if you let him, Jonny would kick the ball all day. Sometimes you need someone to say enough is enough. Blackie had a good way of making sure Jonny didn’t do too much.

RH Jonny worked unbelievably hard on those small differences which made him so much better. By 2003 England had spent a lot of time together as a team. We had an unbelievably committed squad who prided themselves on pushing things to the limit but Jonny stuck out. I remember one half-back and back row fitness session. There was a load of shuttles before you had to run for a minute and then sit on the floor for two minutes to let the lactic acid build up and make your legs feel like they couldn’t move. You then had to get back on your feet and run as hard as you could around the track. At first you think: ‘Right, I’m staying with Jonny.’ But you can’t. At the end he crumples to the floor and you think: ‘I’ll have him on the next lap.’ But he’d get up and do it again and be in pieces at the end.

III: The most famous rugby player on the planet, 2003



Jonny Wilkinson kicks the drop goal that won England the World Cup in 2003. Photograph: Tom Jenkins Photograph: Tom Jenkins

RH Jonny instilled confidence in those who played with him and took confidence away from those he played against. There were many matches we would have lost without him. Look at Wellington in 2003 when he gave a flawless kicking display in horrendous conditions. Even the New Zealanders struggled but he got our points and we won 15-13. It was a big step in creating a team persona that we could win the World Cup.

Before and during the tournament he certainly felt the pressure. It came across in the early stages of the World Cup and I remember having conversations with him and his dad about trying to get back into routines we had in the UK. We said let’s get out of the hotel, and he managed that a lot more in the final week than people think. We found a coffee house which felt more like a library and it gave us the seclusion we needed.

He took the pressure all the way up to the last minute of the final when he landed the winning drop-goal. But I remember a penalty in the first half of extra time. It was approaching the halfway line and he just slotted that home. I watched the Australian players and there was a shoulder-drop when he did it. Not enough to put them out of the picture but enough to make us think, “go on, go on …”

It was hard for him after he won the World Cup and became the most famous rugby player on the planet but I think, deep down, he relished being such a major part of the win.

There were by-products that didn’t sit comfortably with him. He struggled with that because, same as me, he didn’t like the spotlight.

But Jonny learnt to become the iconic person who bridges the gap between those who follow rugby and those who don’t.

SBt Life definitely changed. I watched the final with some friends and went off to play golf. There was a TV crew waiting for me when I got off the 18th green. Becoming the world’s most famous rugby player was difficult for Jonny but one story stands out from that period. He spotted my daughter at a shop in Hexham. She was in her early teens and with all her school pals. Jonny went up to her and said, “How are you? How’s it going?” She came home flabbergasted that Jonny, having just won the World Cup, would even remember her and actually bother to say hello.

SBk From day one we had little standards we set. We always said do things that would make the people who loved you feel proud of you. And one of the ways I tried to explain that to him is if you have a 24-hour camera following you about. At the end of the 24 hours could you sign the bottom of the resulting movie and say: “Yes, I am happy with that. That truly represents who I am to the world.” Jonny has lived by that code and the imaginary video camera ensures it is a very high moral code. It’s been habitual through the years because we’ve spoken about it on a daily basis.

IV: Despair, panic attacks and quantum physics, 2004-09



SBt When I came back to Newcastle after coaching Border Reivers [in 2007] Jonny was in the middle of that horrendous period when he seemed to get one injury after another. Newcastle were struggling and his efforts were heroic in trying to play. My main aim was to ensure that he and Blackie had the space to get through a very sad time for Jonny.

SBk Jonny suffered. I remember one incident very clearly [against Perpignan in the Heineken Cup when, as Wilkinson told me in a 2005 interview, “A genuine panic attack took hold of me. I sat on the side of the pitch, shaking and crying, and everyone thought I was in terrible pain. But I was crying with deep-down depression. I was panicking over the possibility it was a cruciate ligament injury. I didn’t think I could survive another ordeal.”]. Jonny has been so brave through the years and put his body on the line for the team. He had car crash injuries because he was getting tackled by, or trying to tackle, 20st-plus guys. Jonny would go through incredible trauma. He loved rugby so much he didn’t want it taken away. That’s what he was upset about – he didn’t want to lose something that obsessed him.

Trials and tribulations are like steel being strengthened in the forge. You come out stronger from being in the forge. Nothing has broken Jonny, ever. He loves the Japanese term kaizen – which means “continual improvement”. He wants to get better. He’s pushed himself to do that. And that’s the price obsessive people pay because it’s very stressful.

But most things in the world that have merit are rarely easy. You have to suffer a little. One of the greatest boxers ever, Joe Louis, said: “Everyone wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die.” Jonny and I understood that. He was ready to suffer and, at the same time, he stayed curious about life. James Allen wrote a book – As A Man Thinketh – in 1904. It’s a magnificent book and the title comes from the Bible. That led to us learning spiritual writings and about subjects like quantum physics – which suggested to Jonny that thought has a magnetic quality. We were looking at being in a positive mindset. Jonny was asked to go to a conference [on quantum physics] in Paris and he was on stage with two Nobel Prize winners. Jonny gave his talk and the whole Q&A in French, which was pretty damn special.

V: The balm of Toulon, 2009-2014

Jonny Wilkinson lifts the Heineken Cup with Toulon in 2013. Photograph: Julien Behal/PA Photograph: Julien Behal/PA

SBt Jonny left Newcastle at the right time for a different environment where he could concentrate on himself. After all those injury-blighted years he’s bounced back tremendously in Toulon and it’s wonderful he is about to end on such a high.

RH A lot of his success and happiness in Toulon is down to the way Jonny tackled it. He learnt French straight away and bought into the French way of life. He handled the transition perfectly.

Nick Kennedy I’ve known Jonny a long time – since I made my debut for London Irish against Newcastle [in 2001]. He was a key presence in helping me settle when I joined Toulon [in 2012]. One of the reasons the team is so successful is because it’s driven by him. He’s the leader and he puts in more work than anyone but he’s incredibly humble. It’s a team full of superstars but they can’t let their egos get the better of them because Jonny’s in charge. He’s the most famous and the most talented but also the most grounded. In his team talks he speaks first in perfect French and then repeats it in English.

The French absolutely adore him. We’d park under the stadium and he had to have his own security guard – three hours before kick-off. The crowd loves him so much. Once a month we’d go and train at a different rugby club in the area and afterwards we’d do autographs. It would have been a lot quicker if we didn’t have Jonny. We’d be there for two hours – in a long line of tables. They had to go past the rest of us to reach Jonny. And with Jonny they’d want a photo and a hug. He never brushes people off and he always makes it special. No other guy could then brush off a supporter and say, “Oh, I’m busy,” because they’d see what Jonny had done.

It’s the same with rugby. There were games last season [Kennedy now plays for Harlequins] where he might’ve missed a kick. The next day you’re bruised and battered and you go for a recovery swim in the sea or spend a day on the sofa. Not Jonny. He would be at training kicking and doing a fitness session. Phenomenal. He does beat himself up because he’s a perfectionist but that’s why he’s been at the top of the game so long. No wonder Toulon want to erect a statue of Jonny.

RH Saturday is definitely a conundrum for me. I’ve played for Saracens my whole career but Jonny’s a great friend. I feel a little torn.

But in any final you want it to be won by someone doing something bold and brilliant. I know Jonny and there’s only one way he’ll want these two games to end as a way of him signing off. But he’ll want to win as much for his team-mates as himself.

SBk A great part of Jonny’s story is that he paid his dues and in return he has had respect from the world over and love from people who’ve never met him. He’s won the World Cup and a lot in club rugby. He’s been world player of the year, the highest points-scorer in international rugby, the only man to have scored 1,000 points in both the English Premiership and the Top 14 in France. He’s won French sportsman of the year.

I’m biased because he’s almost like a little brother to me, or even a son, but he’s such a good person with solid principles. It might be time for him to move on but we’d all love him to do the double. It would be the perfect way to end the career of a man who has always strived so hard for perfection.