Jones has the calm for a pressure cooker

Aussie coach is working hard to satisfy expectations of a nation. James Corrigan meets him

If Sven Goran Eriksson ever wants to bleat to anyone about pressure he should steer clear of Eddie Jones. The crippling weight of expectation to do well in a country that rarely wins anything is one thing, but try shouldering it in a country where winning is as about as rare as kangaroo manure. For if an English fan demands to win like a teenager demands a new bike, then his Aussie counterpart demands it like a baby demands its mother.

There is no comparison: the screaming never stops. And it gets louder when you are already world champions, and louder still when you are about to defend that title on home soil. By next October, when the Wallabies kick off the World Cup in Sydney, the cries of expectation will be ringing in Jones's ear so loudly that he will barely be able to think, and if there is one thing the modern rugby coach needs to do it is think.

So it is strange to find that Jones is the picture of serenity, looking as hounded by the demands of his employment as, say, the Holland skiing coach. And that is despite being in the middle of a tour across the globe where he is not only expected to get results but also to experiment with a team with the World Cup in mind. But then Jones is not your average, stereotypical Aussie. A quiet, thoughtful man, it is difficult to imagine him in his playing days with New South Wales as a fiery hooker but easier to see him as the school principal he became on retirement.

The allure of the oval ball soon enticed him back, and after coaching the Sydney club side Randwick he moved to Japan, where he took charge of the national side, helping in the country's conversion to become the Land of the Rising Scrum. But Australia never lets its finest talent stay away too long, and in 1998 he was summoned back to take over at the ACT Brumbies. In a year, he had taken them to the Super 12 final and a year later had won it, crushing the Natal Sharks in the final. Jones also started coaching Australia A, and when the Lions came calling at Gosford last year he became a national hero when his side gave them a mauling few had predicted.

So when Rod Macqueen, the coach who lifted the World Cup in Cardiff in 1999, stunningly stepped down in the middle of that series, the hierarchy did not need to look far to find a replacement, and the overnight successor soon penned his story. The Lions were seen off 2-1, New Zealand were beaten to the Bledisloe Cup and the Tri-Nations trophy soon followed for a team who were now rated head and shoulders above the world. Not bad for a country who had lost an enigmatic coach and a sickeningly talented captain in John Eales in the space of few months.

But then, just as they always do, the accountants pushed it too far, and a tour to Europe last autumn ended with defeat to both France and England. The honeymoon was not only over with those knee-jerk reactionaries, but divorce proceedings had begun.

"These tours are always difficult," Jones said last week. "The expectation is on us to do well over here but we've got to have the courage to mix the selections so that in the end we have a two-tiered approach: to do well in the present but also look to the future." It is the past that occupies the minds of most Aussies, and last year's bashing by the Poms still rankles. "England definitely outplayed us," Jones said. "No doubt about it. They completely dominated the first 40 minutes, so we've got a fair bit of ground to make up. It's a game when we can benchmark ourselves to see over the last 12 months what improvements we've made."

Not that the 42-year-old is preparing for an easier ride this time. He dismisses the north-south divide as "just something for people to talk about" and expects "England, France and perhaps Ireland to make a real fist of the World Cup".

"The form guide says that the northern-hemisphere sides are very much in line with the southern hemisphere," he said. "If you look at the three southern-hemisphere sides, all of us have gone through a transition period. The All Blacks have had a change in coach and a change in playing style. South Africa likewise, and we've obviously had a change in coach and captain and are setting about changing some of the guard."

England, though, is Jones's immediate concern, and there is plenty to worry him. "They've got a very effective tight five, In fact, probably the best tight five in the world at (a) winning the ball and (b) retaining it. Jason Robinson at full-back is just a wonderful player. He's got that ability one-on-one to beat people, and in world rugby they're the guys who are the most dangerous. And then Jonny Wilkinson gives them the guaranteed-points machine. He is 75-80 per cent accurate, so if you make a mistake in your own half he is going to make you pay for it."

More to the point, Jones would pay for it with a backlash in a country where union is only the third biggest sport. Not only is he fighting the inevitable fatigue on a tour that asked Australia, ridiculously, to play one Saturday in Buenos Aires, the next in Dublin, which Ireland won 18-9 yesterday, and then the next against England at Twickenham, but he is also fending off calls for his team to throw off the shackles of rigid technique. "We want to develop our playing style, getting more flexibility. We want to be able to attack the ball and if the weather is good we'll be able to do a little bit of that," he said.

Whatever happens on Saturday, and on a trip to Italy a week later, the countdown to October will start ticking the moment Australia hit the Sydney runway. For Jones that is something to embrace, not fear.

"I imagine the pressure on me might be quite intense. But I can only coach as well as I can coach. It is obviously going to be a considerable project for us and something we will start working on diligently from January. It's just a great honour for myself to coach the Wallabies and to be able to do it in a World Cup at home is a one-off life experience."

Uneasy lies the head that wears Macqueen's crown? Don't you believe it.