Interview with Jerry Collins: Growing up in Porirua, the immigrant, working-class, northern suburb of Wellington, Jerry Collins would sometimes help out his mates who worked on the city council's rubbish trucks. Aside from everything else, the workload would double up as additional fitness training.

Despite being an All Black for the last four years, he still occasionally helps his mates. That he hasn't forgotten his Samoan birthplace or his Wellington roots is clear. It was a tough neighbourhood. Collins doesn't look like the type of fellow who would take a backward step. "Some tough boys," he recalls with an ironic, knowing smile. "Everyone's upbringing is different. I probably would have made it tough if the area wasn't tough."

Collins has the build of a boxer, and speaks with the same kind of disarmingly low, slurred, clipped delivery. Almost ominously, he says: "Playing at home personally is going to be big. We want to get the job done and dusted this week.

"It's bigger for a few of us," he adds, in relation to Wellington team-mates such as his cousin Tana Umaga, backrow partner Rodney So'oialo and Ma'a Nonu.

"We're at home, and I suppose it's our job as guys coming from here to get everyone to the same excitement level we're at, and I think we're doing a pretty good job of it this week. But we know we've got to play 50 per cent better this week."

His family remain close to the Samoan community in Porirua, so much so they don't even venture to the Westpac Stadium on match day to see Jerry play.

"No one can save you while you're out there, mate. My old man doesn't come and watch the games. He watches them at home . . . But it's in the back of your head you're at home. I suppose it doesn't sink in until afterwards."

Porirua is also, as he puts it, a "Leaguey" type of area. I never dreamed about playing for the All Blacks when I was young. Most of the boys in my neighbourhood play league."

Now he's here himself, he's effectively part of New Zealand rugby. A huge privilege, but huge pressure as well?

"We're a small country. We've got a great tradition in rugby and rugby brings a lot of enjoyment to the country, so I suppose that's probably the biggest pressure. We put pressure on ourselves, we realise there's not one New Zealander who's not rooting for us, whether they are watching the games or working in the factories doing a night shift, whether it's the bus driver or the banker. And that's great for us we have so much support.

"We feel the pressure when we lose, but people will still shake your hand even if they're cut up about you losing. You've got to take the good with the bad, and work out how you make the bad work to your good."

Collins, like a lot of his All Blacks team-mates, had to grow up fast in John Mitchell's youthful, thrilling but inexperienced side which came up short in the World Cup semi-final against Australia. He shone against South Africa in the quarter-finals, but a week later his hard running could make no inroads and once Justin Marshall went off they looked rudderless.

"It felt pretty bad at the time. I suppose it's just one of those things. If you could go back and change time, we would. Passes would have stuck that didn't stick, and we would have been in a different situation. But that's life, no two days are the same.

"In the next couple of weeks especially," adds Collins, shifting the subject, "we just hope what we've working towards produces another two performances like last Saturday's.

"The Lions concept is great. Their tours come few and far between, but it works both ways. It would be nice to go on a tour over there and play the provinces, but that's something you can only dream of. In the professional era it's all about money, but hopefully the concept doesn't waste away."

The thunderous big hits and the rumbling are still there, but Collins has had to adapt to a blindside role and develop his skills, adding a kicking game and offloading to his repertoire.

"I suppose I've had to change. Different coaches, different ways of doing things. It's like any job, you've got to change with the times. Everytime you get a new employer he wants things done differently. It's always about learning, trying to make what you have better and things you're not so good at; try and get them up to a level that is acceptable.

"I've always been good at what I do. The majority of people like it, but some people don't. I'm just trying to add bits and pieces in, pass the ball both sides, or step here, or kick it there. But I can't say I've changed much, I'm still the same until I get a new boss who wants to get me to do something different, and then I'll do it differently."