Don't say it. Do not say a word. Don't say he's "arrived". Don't say he's "come of age". Don't say he's "the best player in the world" on account of the Golden Boot award presented to him late last year. Do not even say it - because Shaun Johnson isn't buying it. "I personally don't believe I am the best player in the world," the Warriors halfback says pragmatically. "I can understand why I was given that award, through my performances at an international level. But I don't think I'm the complete player and that I have arrived and there's nothing left for me to do." Or come of age?

I don’t believe I am the best player in the world. I can understand why I was given that award, but I don’t think I’m the complete player and that I have arrived and there’s nothing left for me to do. Shaun Johnson on winning the Golden Boot.

"Maybe this year I will a bit," he continues. "Maybe over the off-season, I have a bit. Maybe in the Four Nations, I did a little bit. But I don't think I am anywhere near my best. I don't want to be the player who just had a good Four Nations. You'd be in danger of being that player if you thought you were the best player in the world because you won a Golden Boot." Well, that's a relief. Players can say awards and accolades don't change them, but they often do. It's easier to read your own press than ignore it. After Jarryd Hayne won the Dally M in 2009, he sometimes referred to himself as "The Medallist" and then drifted in and out of form in the seasons that followed. Ben Barba was similarly crowned in 2012, and then flamed out before the following season even started. Here, on this sunny Auckland morning at Mount Smart Stadium, Johnson appears to have his ego in check, despite the growing number of fans who shout his name in the street, or stop him in the supermarket, or the pack of schoolgirls who start screeching whenever they spy him, ready to pounce with mobile phones. He was judged the best player in the world following his imposing performances in last November's Four Nations, which New Zealand claimed after humbling the Kangaroos in the final. That he was given the prestigious award ahead of the likes of Hayne, Sam Burgess and James Graham raised questions about its legitimacy, not least because Johnson's side had failed to reach the finals. "It's an embarrassment that he can be judged the best player in the world," says one stunned former international.

Nobody can talk about my step or explain it and justify what I was thinking. It happens like that. It’s a blur. It’s a feel. Johnson on his mesmerising footwork.

On this day, construction workers are clunking away at one end of the stadium, erecting a huge stage. The Foo Fighters will be playing here later in the week. The 24-year-old halfback doesn't consider himself a rock star, and the fact the Warriors are a team that has promised so much but delivered so little on his watch is the reason. "I just think if you're halfback of the side you have a big influence on the way you win or lose," Johnson explains. "We've had our fair share of losses since I've been at the club. It doesn't sit right with me. We played some good footy last year and I played some really good footy last year, but I also played some bad footy. You get awarded a Golden Boot and a lot of people forget that. "I had an okay year last year. We didn't make the eight, but I finished it off well with the Kiwis. I'm under no illusions that we've had disappointment at this club and if we're going to change that I'm going to have to play a big role in that."

You haven't made it, baby, until you've made it on YouTube. On that score, Johnson is a phenomenon. While researching this story, Phil Gould insisted I look at the highlights package of Johnson playing touch football from 2007-08. "Try to put into words what he's doing," the Panthers boss said, laying down the challenge. Simply, you cannot. The four-minute clip shows shaky footage of Johnson stepping off both feet, ducking, weaving, throwing long balls to unmarked wingers. They are precisely the same moves and contortions that prompted Kangaroos coach Tim Sheens to lament "Johnson had spiders on him tonight" after the Four Nations final.

YouTube footage of Johnson playing touch as a kid.

Ask Johnson to explain his footwork and he grins at the absurdity of the question. "It's instinct. It's a feel. Nobody can talk about a step or explain it and justify what I was thinking. It happens like that. It's a blur. It's a feel … People ask me about the Wembley one in the semi-final." He's referring to the Kiwis' clash against England at the World Cup in 2013, when he scored with 20 seconds to go and then landed the match-winning conversion after the siren. "Can't tell you what happened. If I sit here in this seat and think exactly about what happened, I just remember getting a high ball and getting rushed. But I didn't see the person. I couldn't tell you who it was. It was a feel. It was catch [avoiding the England defender] and then I stepped. I was just running to score, and then someone came, so what do you do?" Johnson stepped inside the fullback. "It's … You just do it." The YouTube clip is the reason Johnson is at the Warriors. He'd slipped under the recruitment club's radar but then a family friend sent the link to Tony Iro, the former Kiwi international and under-20s coach at the time, and then everything changed. "I watched it and got him in the next day," Iro, who has rejoined the club this season after two years at the New Zealand Rugby League, recalls. "He was super quick, had an ability to step off both feet, but what I really liked about it is that he had an eye for a pass that hit the mark. All the flashy stuff you always notice it, but he could pick out a guy who was open and free and hit a chest every time." Johnson also remembers that phone call from Iro. "I just flipped," he says. "We'd like you to come in and have a go with our development squad. I f..king flipped." Johnson played an array of sports as a teenager, from touch to New Zealand's dominant code of rugby union to some Australian Rules football. But whatever you do, do not tell him he was just a touch player who became a rugby league player. "It's an easy comment for journos and commentators to make," he says. "I hope they know now that I started playing league when I was four. I only played touch in the summer. It's what I did to fill that gap. I was probably better at touch than I was at league at that time, but I've always been a league player." Ask him why he's insulted at the suggestions, and he replies: "I think it was easy for people to say it because of the way I play the game. In my first few years, I was shy of the contact. It wasn't until this year and the back end of last that I started to feel comfortable in my body." When Johnson first walked into Mount Smart, he weighed 67kgs wringing wet. In the first 18 months, he packed on 15kgs but he was still a featherweight. When he emerged from the Eden Park tunnel for the Auckland Nines, it was clear he'd grown. He's nudging 91 kilos heading into this season. "He's come a long way, from a little princess to a prince," jokes veteran winger Manu Vatuvei. "He's still young and a lot to learn, but he's growing every year."

He’s come a long way, from a little princess to a prince. He’s still young and a lot to learn, but he’s growing every year. Veteran Warriors winger Manu Vatuvei.