England v Wales: Keith Duggan finds coach Andy Robinson and his men have much to prove to themselves.

These are anxious days in Blighty. The three years since Jonny Wilkinson landed the drop kick that knighted Clive Woodward's England and made them champions of the rugby world have passed by in a blur. It has been possible to count on one hand the number of memorable days the white shirts have had since that grinding, uncompromising November final, which briefly illuminated the conceit that the Home Counties held the magic formula for world rugby.

Since then, Woodward has fled rugby after a tarnished Lions tour and Martin Johnson has been felled by time. Wilkinson, the automaton kicking force, is locked into a tragic cycle of injury. The All Blacks were the sensation of last winter and France are accepted as the coming force. And today England face Wales, the Six Nations champions, in a vulnerable state of mind in Fortress Twickenham.

"I said they were favourites," maintained coach Andy Robinson during England's public afternoon earlier this week. "They are champions and are a good team and I feel they have a right to be. We all know what happened last year, we lost 11-9 in the last five minutes after a poor game in Cardiff. One side went into the Grand Slam and ourselves, well, we stuttered a bit."

Robinson held court in the panelled Carolean library in Pennyhill Park, the secluded spa resort in prosperous Bagshot favoured by Tony Blair, by film stars and, in a fashion introduced during the Woodward era, elite rugby players. The aura of opulence and privilege was in keeping with Woodward's philosophy of treating his players like precious racehorses so that everything was geared to performance.

It might have been advisable for Robinson to find his own retreat rather than be stalked by Woodward's ghost. Perhaps he thought a move would have been too obvious. In any case, he sat among the dusty books and 18th century portraits and addressed the press of England, among whom concern was palpable.

Isn't it time to concede that there is a problem with (Joe) Worsley in the context of England, Andy? Do you feel we have reasonable kicking options at midfield, Andy? Are you concerned about (Lewis) Moody's temper, Andy? Are you worried about what Charlie (Hodgson) said about hating the Twickenham crowd, Andy? Would it be a different team if we were playing France, Andy?

"Guys . . . again, you are asking hypothetical questions," Robinson sighed after to the last question. "It's not France, it Wales."

The emphasis that Robinson has put on today's game is understandable. But Wales have not won in Twickenham since the Paul Thorburn era of 1988, prehistoric in rugby terms. And Robinson's fixation on this game suggests a worryingly narrow worldview to some observers.

This is a season when the contending countries are picking teams with an eye on next year's World Cup in France. Yet Robinson is reluctant to even contemplate England's next game until Wales have been dealt with.

Frame of mind is of paramount important to an England team that has been changed immeasurably. Criticism of the Twickenham crowd by outhalf Charlie Hodgson, as skilful as Wilkinson was precise, revealed the problems of playing for England post-2003.

After the World Cup, the England crowd rolled into the old ground leery and expectant and, on a tough day for Hodson against France last year, they turned on him savagely. Hodgson is an interesting figure, thoughtful and honest and very public in his struggles with confidence. There was an unintentionally humorous moment on Tuesday when Hodgson, talking about his currently rich vein of form, was asked: "Was there a blinding flash of light, a moment when you suddenly felt happy?"

It seemed such a strange and tender question to ask an England number 10. Happiness was never an issue when Jonny Wilkinson wore the shirt. This is Hodgson's time, but he seems reluctant to fully believe it.

"I don't take the position for granted, to be honest with you," he said at one point. "I treat it as the last time you might play in it. And you want to go out and do yourself justice. You can't expect to be playing though. Definitely, I am happier as a player and feeling more confident in my ability. Every time I go out now I feel I can do the job. I don't know it that has changed people's opinion of me or not."

A player with a different set of motivations is Lewis Moody, the explosive Leicester flanker who served a nine-week ban for fighting with his team-mate Alesana Tuiliaga against Samoa last November. Cheerful and modest, the blond Moody took off to Iceland for some speed and fitness training during his suspension.

"Ten days with Finnish gymnasts and wrestlers," he grinned. "Pretty cold and snowy up there, but it was good. Those wrestlers were huge. They reckoned we should be using some of their training techniques. Maybe they have a point."

The fear for England, of course, is that the Welsh big men will bait Moody into indulging in a spot of tag wrestling on the field at Twickenham. Moody concedes that he cannot depart from the intense, combustible game that has distinguished him, but has sought a lot of advice on how to deal with the incendiary moments that are stock in trade for backrow players.

"When you are a flanker, you make a nuisance of yourself, you get in the way and other people want to get you out of there. I have been playing this sport for 10 years and (against Samoa) was the first time I got involved in anything like that.

"I had been injured, and maybe through not playing for a while the emotion and passion you have on the field builds over. But you just learn from it and talk to people.

"People like myself who find if hard to organise different parts of your life and have a lot of thoughts going around and can't actually group any of them."

Moody inevitably turned to his Leicester senior Martin Johnson for some solid words as well. But with 34 caps and a surviving member of the World Cup final game (he came on as a replacement in the final), Moody is now regarded as a senior man himself.

There is no doubting the grand old man of the England set-up, though. The mere return of the oak-like Lawrence Dallaglio to Robinson's squad lends it more substance. On Tuesday, Dallaglio nodded to the old faces as he spoke of the second act of his England career. After 73 caps and a 10-year career, he knows the highs and lows more than most.

"It's a double-edged sword. If England win it gets the tournament off to a good start and they can then build positively. If you lose, you're immediately under huge pressure as a group of players and coaches. That can be difficult."

And so it begins and ends with Wales.