If Andy Robinson feels disoriented during God Save the Queen tomorrow, spare a thought for Riki Flutey. Patriot games are not always black and white, particularly if you are a France-based Kiwi wearing an England shirt at Murrayfield. What about his international team-mate Tim Payne or Scotland's Graeme Morrison, who grew up in Hong Kong? Hugo Southwell played cricket for Sussex and Mathew Tait's father is a Scot. James Haskell and Max Evans were schoolmates in Berkshire. Send those Sassenachs homewards tae think again? It is not that simple.
In Flutey's case there are two more complicated historical twists. As well as his having Maori blood, his great-great-great-grandfather was a French whaler who fetched up in New Zealand and met a local girl. Subsequently Flutey discovered that his mother Ruby, who was adopted, had an English birth father. The family hired a private investigator to track down a merchant seaman who spent time in Wellington in October 1949 and came from the Ramsgate area in Kent. Eleven possibles were flagged up but, as yet, there has been no happy ending.
"There were 11 matches and half a dozen came back and gave us an answer," Flutey says. "It was a little sad because every two weeks my mum was ringing up saying, 'Have you heard anything?' She'd told me once before that her birth father was English but she never met him."
Who do you think you are? If Flutey, who played junior rugby for New Zealand and represented the Maori, is actually the grandson of an Englishman – and he now feels sure about it – where does that leave all those who complained about him parachuting in beneath a passport of convenience? He is already down in history as the first man to play for and against the British and Irish Lions but, arguably, identity is less an issue for him than for the team he represents tomorrow . Who are these guys and of what are they capable? How perverse, with a character as strong-minded as Martin Johnson in charge, that people should still be uncertain.
It falls to the Brive centre to offer guidance. The theory was straightforward: stick the calm, alert ex-Hurricane on the shoulder of Jonny Wilkinson and opponents would face a midfield whirlwind. It has yet to pan out that way, for reasons the 30-year-old centre argues, correctly, are not solely his responsibility.
"I reviewed the tape of the Ireland game as I normally do and found I'd only had 10 involvements in the game," he says. "Normally it would be around 25 or 30. The Irish did the same as the Italians, who put lots of numbers into the breakdown area and did whatever it took to slow the ball down so it wouldn't get to us. It's an area we've talked about and need to clear up. If we're always getting slow ball and the defences are set, there's not much space."
True, but at times Wilkinson and Flutey have looked disturbingly similar – scampering a few yards sideways, waiting in vain for direct runners to materialise. In mitigation, the pair will be playing only their third game together today, Flutey having missed the win over Wales with a dead leg. But as Flutey found with the Lions, some midfield partnerships gel instantly. To try to accelerate the process, the management have invited them to sleep together, albeit in separate beds.
"Me and Jonny have been rooming together throughout the Six Nations," Flutey says. "We get on really well. We talk to each other about expectations, not least what we expect from each other on the field. But at the end of the day, it's a 15-man sport. If we can clear up some of our issues about the speed of the ball around the breakdown area, we'll have more opportunities to attack defences on the back foot."
Flutey's relatively quiet championship so far may also reflect the fact he missed the first half of the season, after shoulder surgery. His lay-off also made it harder for he and his young family to settle in the Corrèze. He says: "I arrived only three weeks after the Lions tour, knowing my shoulder isn't getting any better no matter how much rehab I do. The last thing I wanted to do was turn up at my new club playing at 60%, knowing I'm not giving everything and am not being honest with my new team-mates. It becomes easier. When you're injured it's hard to have an opinion or a voice because you're not actually out there practising what you're preaching."
His next destination is a hot topic. Flutey, among the most model of professionals, is reportedly wanted by London Wasps, London Irish and Munster, although if he is coming "home" he hides it well. "The whole thing about what I do next year is all speculation," he says. "It's not bothering me at all. Simon Gillham [Brive's chief executive] has told me I'm contracted for another year, simple as that. I'm focused on fulfilling my contract. If that's what he says I should do, that's it. It's not playing on my mind."
The son of a sheep shearer from the Wairarapa says he has never felt anything other than welcome in the England changing room. "When I first came in I didn't just want to stick to myself," he says. "I wanted to introduce myself and show people, 'This is me, I want you to accept me for the way I am and for who I am.' From my point of view, I feel 100% part of this team. We all make sure we make an effort to welcome people into this environment so we can get the best out of them."
If only for his wondrous flick pass to Shane Williams for a try in the summer's third Lions Test in Johannesburg, Flutey's global odyssey has been worthwhile. Now, though, is the moment to stand up and be counted if he is to be a part of England's plans at next year's World Cup in New Zealand. I vow to thee my country? No worries, mate. What matters most is the commitment you show to your chosen cause and Flutey, in that respect, will never be found wanting.
