When you first see Richard Dourthe playing for the opposition, he seems the kind of abrasive player you'd imagine you'd most like to box if you were playing against him. All mouth and pumped-up aggression, and very confrontational.

Wherever there's a scrap or an altercation, Dourthe is usually there or thereabouts. At first sighting he seems nothing like your archetypal French centre: all style, with a balletic sway of the hands and that smooth, transfer of the ball through the hands. He doesn't have a devastating sidestep, and is much more a midfield hard man, a bighitting, straight-running type, albeit with pace and a good football brain, while physically fearless and strong.

Indeed, Ulster even targeted Dourthe's lack of guile in the Stade Francais midfield as an Achilles heel when pushing up into their faces in that memorable European Cup semi-final at Ravenhill last season. However, we saw the true worth of Dourthe's combative style in last February's sleeves-rolled-up, Five Nations ding-dong at Lansdowne Road when France beat Ireland 109. When the going got tough, nobody got tougher than Dourthe.

It was the French centre who halted Dion O'Cuinneagain's blind-side dive for the line off a clever line-out move with a shimmering, full-length tackle at a time when Ireland's first-half pressure was at its most intense. And when the French orchestrated a rolling maul under the Irish posts in the second-half, it was Dourthe who touched down. He emerged afterwards, still clinging to the ball and gesticulating to the crowd. Then you see Dourthe playing for France when you'd have less of a partisan interest. Even in the group stages of this World Cup, he seemed one of their most focused, pumped-up players, kicking 40 points in the process. Against the All Blacks in the semi-final he augmented a no-way-through defensive performance with speedily-taken try when he sprinted onto Christophe Lamaison's chip over the top.

When viewed in that light, you begin to realise that while Dourthe is the kind of player who would annoy you if he was with the opposition, he's also the kind of player you'd like to have in the trenches with you. It's possibly akin to the ABU's watching Roy Keane in a red jersey, and then seeing him in a green one. During France's media hour last Tuesday morning, though he wasn't one of the players listed at the entrance as speaking any English, Dourthe was one of the half dozen or so wheeled in. And for the full hour he gave all manner of interviews, for television, radio and print media alike, in both French and English.

Initially reluctant to grant another interview in English, saying he preferred to speak "en Francais un peu", he later relents. He has, he confesses, always played the game the way he does. Why?

"Because I am a winner. I am a warrior, I am a soldier, I am competitive, I am passionate, especially when I am playing for my country. That is how I am and how I play since I was a little boy."

The sense of pride is perhaps accentuated by the fact that his father, Claude, played in the French three-quarters 33 times from the mid-'60s to the mid-'70s. Although primarily a centre, he emulated his father when he won his first cap at full back at the age of 21 in the Latin Cup in 1995. However, in his fifth test appearance that year, against England, Dourthe's infamous short fuse ignited and he was cited and suspended for stamping on Ben Clarke. That put him out of the side for a year: although still only 24, he'd have won a good deal more than 21 caps but for the ban and two shoulder dislocations, which sidelined him from the '97 and '98 championships.

So, maybe the enforced idleness has helped him mature, and calm down, you gingerly suggest, half wondering if you should have left the car engine running.

"I have the same passion, but I'm quieter now," he smiles. "I have to be because the referees look for me. That's the hardest part because they all know Richard Dourthe was a bad guy. Now he's a good guy. I have to be cool because I'm playing for my country, for my family and for the team."

Interestingly, though, when reminded of his match-winning exploits in Lansdowne Road earlier this year, Dourthe speaks more fondly of his try-saving tackle than his try. "I enjoyed that tackle on O'Cuinneagain. I like tackling, and defending my line, saving tries."

His try against the All Blacks was only his third in 21 Tests, and he revealed that it was a video-inspired, well rehearsed ploy.

"Defending 10 metres from their line, all their (New Zealand's) backs are defending in one line, and then there's nobody behind. With Christophe Lamaison during the week we were practising little kicks behind Andrew Mehrtens and the centres, because maybe one time at Twickenham we can do the try. It was very fantastic."

His celebrations were typically intense, as he spontaneously pointed with both thumbs to his number (13). He laughs at the memory. "I was showing my number to everyone at Twickenham so that in future they know my name. Before no one knew me, now maybe they do."

After the game, in the sanctity of the dressing-room, a smiling Dourthe revealed that the French squad conducted their own version of the All Black haka. "Not to mock them, because we are not like this. We respect a lot the All Blacks. But we wanted to do something very pittoresque, you understand pittoresque, one thing very amazing, and we make one haka, and it was very funny."

In actual fact before the kick-off, somewhat surprisingly, Dourthe himself didn't face the haka. "Next to me was Marc Lievremont who said: `Don't look at them.' I think it was a good thing. It was a feeling of the moment, I can't explain.

"I looked for my friends, for my players. I talked to them. I said: `We will win, we are the best, we are strong. Don't look at them.' I used all the words you can to motivate your friends."

At the culmination of the All Black haka, more in character, Dourthe turned, standing closest to them, his glare lingering the longest, and you thought: here he goes again. But he kept his infamous temper under control, and was generally considered to have his most effective game for France.

Now Dourthe and his teammates stand within 80 minutes of sporting immortality, and it doesn't seem to faze him in the least. "I think we can win the World Cup. We have the players, we have the game, we have the coach, we have a very good group, we are happy when we are together, and that is the important thing which maybe will win the final, because we all hope together that we can be world champions."

That Dourthe feels the team bonding, and talks of his "friends" is entirely understandable. Not alone did his father play for France with the current manager Joe Maso, but his sister Marianne lives with Olivier Magne, and his other sister, Sandra, is married to team captain Raphael Ibanez.

Dourthe emerges as something of a metaphor for this team. "I think the French team has changed and is better behaved, and if we can keep our discipline we can be world champions," he concludes.