Interview Geordan Murphy Geordan Murphy traces his recovery from injury, looks forward to today's English Premiership final and welcomes Lions coach Clive Woodward's 'interesting' approach. Donald McCrae reports

When Geordan Murphy rolls up his trouser leg it is not to catch the slanting afternoon sun on his pale skin. Another exhausting domestic rugby season might be in its last week but Murphy is a long way from thinking about his summer tan.

Today's Grand Final between his Premiership table-topping club, Leicester, and their equally abrasive rivals, Wasps, will be followed swiftly by Murphy joining the Lions for an 11-match tour of wintry New Zealand - which he knows will be "ridiculously tough".

The sunshine, gleaming on his exposed flesh, simply highlights Murphy's latest collection of cuts and bruises, as well as the deep dents and terrible scars that add such brutal colour to his left leg.

"Obviously these are nothing," he says of his more recent wounds. "Just a few kicks I got against Wasps in the last league match."

Murphy's hand slides down a long, jagged scar which ends just above sock level. He taps the sallow stitch-marks lightly, as if they might still hurt to the touch.

"This one's different . . ." His index finger, moving back up the length of a 12-inch metal rod buried inside his leg, points toward the large bone just beneath his knee. "That's where they sliced me open and pushed the kneecap back. They inserted the metal bar there, stretching down from the tibia towards the foot."

Murphy, who likes to mock himself as a "backline glory boy", is not usually given to such scrutiny of his battlefield mementos. Yet, running out for Twickenham's finale this weekend, the slight and outrageously skilled 27-year-old will recall the devastating blow that floored him as he approached the previous peak of his mercurial career.

In Ireland's last game before they flew to Australia for the 2003 World Cup - a tournament at which Murphy was expected to glitter as one of the new stars of international rugby - the fullback's leg was shattered against Scotland at Murrayfield. His memory of the trauma is precise and composed.

"We turned the ball over in our 22 and I passed it to Eric Miller, who ran the outside line. I moved in alongside him on a switch and, as I came back, (Scotland's) Mike Blair was crouching in front of me.

"All my weight was on the left leg when he got in underneath me. He hit me low while the other fellow hit me high from behind. But I think Mike's knee crashing into my shin did it.

"I hit the ground and rolled and still managed to get the ball back on our side - that seems a worrying level of commitment now. I was lying on my right side and my left leg was dangling in the air. I had to somehow rest that leg on top of the other while this ruck was going on behind me. The pain wasn't unbearable yet but I knew it was coming.

"I told the physio I'd broken my leg. He tried to be encouraging - 'Maybe you haven't . . .' - I said it was definitely broken. He went quiet for about 10 seconds and then called for the stretcher. I remember lying in the dressing-room when the pain really kicked in and I knew they wanted me out of there before the team came in at half-time. They didn't want anyone to see me in that state.

"When I woke after surgery I thought the worst. I thought I was finished. The doctors came in and tried to be reassuring. They were brilliant but as soon as they were gone I was in bits. I was crying something terrible. A lot more bitter tears were cried the next few days. I was 25 years old and it felt like the end."

Murphy was considered the most gifted player in the Premiership. His former Leicester coach, Dean Richards, described him as "the George Best of rugby". Having already won four Premiership titles and two European Cups with the Tigers, Murphy was meant to be elevated by the World Cup to even more dizzying heights.

"But, suddenly, I'm thinking I won't even play again. Gary O'Driscoll, the Irish doctor, stayed with me those first few days and he kept saying that one of the best surgeons had operated on me and that (the former Celtic striker) Henrik Larsson had the same operation and he was playing top-class football again. So there was no reason I couldn't come back too. Eventually I started to believe him."

In his laid-back way, Murphy suggests he "was playing all right" before his injury - and that he has now returned to that same level as he prepares for New Zealand and his first great challenge on the world stage. Murphy's version of "playing all right" has prompted Jeremy Guscott to compare him to "a chess grandmaster, always planning moves in advance".

For Murphy, however, the small miracle of a complete recovery and his selection for the Lions means that, at least for now, he is content to linger over his mere inclusion in the squad without spending much time plotting his path into the Test team.

"Having missed out in 2003 I'm determined to make the most of this experience. We've only had one get-together but I felt the goose pimples and the hairs on the back of my neck standing up when they showed us clips from past Lions tours."

Gavin Henson has admitted he and some of his fellow Welsh players were bewildered by the early team-building exercises devised by Clive Woodward.

"It was obviously different," Murphy says diplomatically, "and it was organised like a perfect military drill. I'd expected the meetings and the motivational speaker but the painting was something new . . ."

That artistic trial apparently bemused Henson almost as much as his recent guest appearance on Hell's Kitchen, when he was startled by the revelation that the turbot on the menu was a fish rather than a souped-up car. Murphy is more sophisticated in describing Woodward's mildly flaky painting experiment as "very interesting actually. We were split up into teams of four - I was with Charlie Hodgson and two of the fitness advisers.

"We were given laminate sheets of what we were meant to draw on a blank canvas. There were about 70 in total and, afterwards, you had to find out who had produced a corresponding pattern so that you could help make this huge mural. If the Welsh boys said they were confused I guess they just meant it was new territory."

Murphy might just be the kind of virtuoso who appeals most to the Lions coach - although, as always with Woodward, it's hard to know quite what to expect.

"I've met him after matches and we've always had some chit-chat," Murphy says.

"I knew I had a chance but until you're in the squad you always wonder exactly where you fit in his head. So far I haven't been given any indication as to where I might play. Obviously 15 is my favourite position but I'd play anywhere for the Lions. I think it's fantastic for Clive - with his real rugby brain - to have all these great players to tinker with.

"You just have to look at the other back-three players to see the talent: Gareth Thomas, Jason Robinson, Josh Lewsey, Iain Balshaw and Shane Williams.

"But the good thing he got over to us at that first meeting is that places in the Test team are totally up for grabs."

Murphy's dream of playing Test rugby for the Lions is sharpened further by the opposition. A passion for New Zealand rugby has burned inside him since he played in Auckland as an awe-struck schoolboy.

"I went on this four-month school exchange in 1995. Four of us ended up at Auckland Grammar and it was amazing. Rugby really is a religion in New Zealand. I remember that, every day after school, the changing rooms would be crammed with kids who were all ultra-serious.

"Instead of thinking they should lighten up I became ultra-serious myself. I wanted to fit in but I also got a real kick out of it. The sheer intensity improved my rugby massively."

And what about the more important question of girls? Surely they must have been intrigued by the lilting Irish accent and choirboy looks?

"Oh no," Murphy protests, "I don't think they were interested in me at all. I was very shy. I'm still that kind of character but, back then, I was cripplingly shy. I concentrated on the rugby . . ."

For all his banter in the Leicester and Irish dressing-rooms - "I'm pretty chatty when I feel comfortable" - Murphy's deeper reserve is evident when he reflects on his long-standing relationship with the singer Lucie Silvas. Murphy may have grown accustomed to visiting the Top Of The Pops studio to watch his girlfriend perform but his disdain for celebrity culture is plain. There is little chance he and Silvas will outstrip Henson and Charlotte Church in the publicity stakes.

"I have absolutely no interest in celebrity. Everyone's different and if you're into it that's fine - it's just not for me. I don't ever get recognised, to be honest. And Lucie's lucky like that, too. Of course, she's doing really well and the recognition factor is bound to go up but the most important thing is that we're doing what we want to do. She loves music and I love rugby. I'm just happy to keep away from the other stuff."

Silvas, although born in England, spent most of her childhood in New Zealand.

"She loves the place - as I do. Her dad actually thinks of himself as a Kiwi. He's a big All Black fan and so I expect a little bit of friendly needle when I see him again later tonight (after Silvas's performance on TOTP). I've got loads more friends in New Zealand and they keep telling me that the whole country can't wait for the Lions. It's going to be pretty serious."

There is still, of course, the small matter of today's bruising clash with Wasps. Leicester may have won three of their four encounters this season - with one draw - but Murphy knows that "anything can happen at this stage of the season. It's a bit of a commercial thing, this final, and it's different from when they introduced it.

"I remember that in the first year we were still awarded medals for winning the actual championship. It rewarded our consistency over the whole season - which is surely what a league system should do. But we don't get a winner's medal now unless we beat Wasps on Saturday. So a lot's at stake again."

Leicester might have crushed Wasps the weekend before last but, as Murphy recalls, "They've often finished second and then won the final. It's going to be another big game - especially because it's the last time Martin Johnson and Neil Back will play for us and it's John Wells's final match as coach. There's going to be plenty of emotion on the day."

Murphy's suggestion that "anything can happen" also raises the spectre of his horrendous injury.

If he could be so badly hurt in an otherwise mundane warm-up against Scotland, the prospect of Lawrence Dallaglio's fierce pack closing on him under a high ball in a title decider is hardly one to soothe any jangling superstitions.

"I'm used to getting knocked around," he says with a grin, rubbing his left knee for luck. "Anyway, if you go out not to get hurt that's when you get injured. I do think about it but I tell myself it'll still be better to play 100 per cent and break my leg again and miss the Lions tour than to have team-mates like Martin Johnson or Neil Back think I'm letting them down. That would hurt me more than anything."

Guardian Service