Argentina tour to put pressure on English elite

The grand irony of the conflict over Clive Woodward's plan to introduce an "Elite Player Programme" as the central plank of his preparation for next year's World Cup is that he may soon have more élite players than he knows what to do with. Twenty-seven of England's finest – the long-term injured (Dan Luger), the short-term injured (Lawrence Dallaglio), the sort-of injured (Matt Dawson) and the plain knackered (Austin Healey) – are unavailable for the forthcoming trip to Argentina, yet the manager believes he will emerge from Buenos Aires with a Test victory in one hand and a list of 2003 possibles in the other.

He has reasonable grounds for optimism, for much has changed in the four years since he last crossed the equator with a squad similarly shorn of its central figures. The 1998 "tour of hell" had its positives – Dawson's leadership, Graham Rowntree's rehabilitation as a Test-class prop, Phil Vickery's hostile declaration of intent, Josh Lewsey's physical resilience – but these were overwhelmed by the entirely negative impact of constant humiliation on a large group of gifted young players who never again featured in Woodward's thinking: the Beims, the Browns, the Fidlers. Last summer's second-string trek to North America was very different, however, and provides the more relevant comparison.

Two players from that venture, the Leicester forwards Ben Kay and Lewis Moody, are first-choice members of the current England pack and have already booked their World Cup passage. David Walder, the versatile Newcastle back, also left his imprint – he was England's outside-half against the Barbarians last weekend – and Woodward flew home from San Francisco happy in the knowledge that Kyran Bracken was captaincy material, that Julian White could hit reasonable levels of fitness given the right environment, and that Leon Lloyd had a touch of class about him.

There are clear signs that this month's trip will throw up at least as many candidates for front-line activity in the autumn, when all three southern hemisphere super-powers comes knocking at Twickenham's door: Mark Cueto, James Simpson-Daniel and Phil Christophers among the outside backs; Charlie Hodgson and the rejuvenated Andy Gomarsall at half-back; Trevor Woodman, David Flatman and the exciting Robbie Morris at prop; and Alex Sanderson in the back row. And if they press the right buttons, they can expect due reward.

Sacred cows are not Woodward's thing; when he sees one, he has an overwhelming urge to point it in the direction of the abattoir. He left Martin Johnson out of this year's Six Nations finale in Italy, awarded Neil Back the captaincy for that game and then substituted him after 55 minutes, and has flatly refused to give Jason Leonard an easy ride towards a 100th cap. (Three times this season, Woodward has failed to bring the venerable Harlequin off the bench. Had he relented, Leonard would have completed his century in Rome in April). When Dawson found himself on the wrong side of the manager in Dublin last October, he promptly found himself out of the team. Matthew Perry, last summer's Lions full-back, has not featured all season.

When the manager reminds his players, as he did last week, that the white shirt is his to offer rather than theirs to own, and that they risk rejection the moment they spurn the chance to wear it, he is not playing mind games. Woodward believes certain members of his brood have been taking the you-know-what recently, and feels it is time to reassert some authority. Hence his annoyance with Healey and Joe Worsley for accepting invitations to join the Barbarians squad for the matches with Wales and Scotland – those invitations were unaccepted, pdq – and his anger with those players, old and young, who played injured through the latter stages of the Premiership campaign and then dropped out of the reckoning for Argentina.

Many important decisions will be made between 23 June, the day after the Test in Buenos Aires, and the middle of October, when Woodward puts together his side for the opening autumn international against New Zealand. For Woodward has no intention of landing himself in John Hart territory as the World Cup looms. At this point before the 1999 tournament, Hart, then All Black coach, gambled on a number of his old warhorses – Sean Fitzpatrick, Olo Brown, Michael Jones, Frank Bunce – hanging in long enough to play in the competition. He got it wrong. Hit by a sudden rash of retirements, Hart was forced to cobble together an inexperienced, lightweight side that promptly fell to pieces against the French.

Three years down the line, the current All Black coach, John Mitchell, has made his tough calls early. He capped the likes of Leon MacDonald, Aaron Mauger and Richie McCaw in Britain and Ireland last autumn and intends to stick by them. Woodward, who worked closely with Mitchell for the best part of three years after drafting him as his first assistant coach, understands the significance of those selections, and knows he must deal with similar issues here sooner rather than later.

If, for instance, Simpson-Daniel is a live World Cup contender – and judging by the Gloucester wing's spellbinding form over the last six weeks, it would be fatuous to regard him as anything else – he should be in the red-rose mix this autumn. If Moody is going to be Woodward's World Cup open-side flanker, he should be his open-side flanker in November. If Kay and Danny Grewcock are the most potent locks in the country after the first raft of Premiership and European matches next term, they should be paired against New Zealand. If Leonard is unlikely to make it to Australia in 16 months' time, then yes, he must be pensioned off now.

Some of the towering figures of this most successful of English rugby eras – the Johnsons, the Dallaglios, the Backs, the Dawsons – are about to enjoy a free summer for the first time in aeons, and it is perfectly possible that the benefits of some quality R and R will help them hit the ground sprinting in September. But even if they do, there is no guarantee that Woodward will regard them as anything more than World Cup contenders with everything to prove.

A season is a long time in rugby, especially when you are on the wrong side of 30, and next season, bulging as it is with 14 England international matches and a club programme of purgatorial proportions, will be longer than any in the history of the game. How many of the established élite will still be part of Woodward's élite programme a year from now? Fewer than you might think.