As a kid, Riki Flutey was introduced to life's harsher realities in the dusty shearing sheds of New Zealand. His father is now in his late 50s and has sold his ­contracting business but the game remains the same: gangs of tough, itinerant men with an unremitting workload, preoccupied with the job in hand rather than what the future might hold. A life of sweat-soaked singlets and whirling clippers might be alien to the average Six Nations participant, but England's current mindset is not dissimilar.

Flutey, who is now resident in suburban Twickenham rather than scenic Lake Ferry in the Wairarapa region on the southern shores of the North Island, acknowledges as much on the eve of his Championship debut, against Italy today. There are no certainties, only question marks. His ­midfield foil and clubmate Danny Cipriani has been omitted and so this afternoon he finds himself ­standing beside a player – Andy Goode – with whom he is barely on ­nodding terms. He is due to win his fifth cap, yet is not only required to perform like a seasoned veteran but also deliver a note-perfect rendition of God Save The Queen.

"The autumn showed it's not as easy as we possibly expected it to be," he says softly, fully aware that his adopted nation's patience is not limitless after defeats by Australia, South Africa and New Zealand in November. England need their Maori import to step up this spring in attack and defence if there is to be a renaissance under Martin Johnson.

If nothing else, a conversation with the measured Flutey offers reassurance that England have not been not sitting idle. Subtle changes, he reveals, have taken place since November. "There's been more focus on our training and what we're trying to achieve. We've been doing a hell of a lot more video analysis, too. At the end of each day we've had a meeting, which we haven't had before. Talking to some of the All Blacks after the autumn internationals, most of the stuff they do when they're in camp is mental. We're starting to do more of that, coming back in from training and really nailing the key points."

If that sounds like an absolute ­minimum requirement, Flutey is unconcerned that England appear poised to revert to a back-to-basics approach – "I'm all about everyone understanding their roles and responsibilities" – to which he is not ­obviously suited. He has spent hours at his laptop, pinning his faith in the  efficacy of hard work and preparation and ignoring the risk of paralysis by analysis.

"I'll be on the computer every night, not necessarily for very long but enough to do my homework," he says. "Once the kids are in bed, I'll analyse my games from the weekend and see how I can improve."

Habits established during his time at Te Aute College, a Maori boarding school in Hawkes Bay which was also attended by the All Blacks Norm Hewitt and Piri Weepu, have stuck with him.

"I'm pretty anal about keeping my diary, writing down the food I eat and so forth," he says. "Maybe it comes from boarding school. It was quite strict and run in a military style."

It also gave him the independence of spirit to quit Wellington and the Hurricanes in his mid-20s, leaving behind a large extended family including three sisters and two brothers to go in search of something more satisfying than bit-part roles at provincial level and in the Super 14.

As scrum-half for the New Zealand side that won the Under-19 World Cup in Wales a decade ago – like his older brother Mano he represented New Zealand at every age-group level – he played alongside the current All Blacks Richie McCaw, Keven Mealamu and Rodney So'oialo. At the Hurricanes he was team-mates with Jonah Lomu and Christian Cullen but an All Black cap never threatened to adorn the mantelpiece of one of the world game's tidiest characters. When he first came to England, to join London Irish in 2005, he was such a stickler for domestic order that his three TV remote controls even had to be lined up in parallel. Only the arrival of his two children – Madison is 18 months and baby Joseph a mere seven weeks – has forced a tactical rethink.

"I've had to get a bit more relaxed," he says. "I was forever picking things up and putting them back in place but I'm slowly losing that now."

Lately he has been linked with a move across the Channel to Goode's club, Brive, but Wasps fans will forever remember him as part of the Acton triangle – Fraser Waters, Flutey, Cipriani – who combined so sweetly in 2007-08, when Wasps won the league title and Flutey was voted player of the season by his ­fellow professionals.

It has done him no harm subsequently that Brian Smith, the England attack coach, has always rated him highly. Johnson also appreciates that Flutey hails from a culture where supermarket checkout girls know more about rucking than many northern-hemisphere chief executives.

English centres for English jobs? Not as far as Flutey is concerned. On New Year's Day he jotted down his ambitions for 2009. High on the list, among a string of family-related resolutions, was a desire to make this summer's Lions tour.

"When I was offered the opportunity to represent England I knew there were even higher honours I could achieve," he says. "It's always been something at the back of my mind."

By the time he reaches his 29th birthday, this Tuesday, he will hope to have taken a significant stride towards that improbable goal, having opposed the 2005 Lions for Wellington. If he would prefer the discarded Cipriani at his elbow, he is not saying so publicly.

"I roomed with Andy Goode in Portugal last week and playing inside someone with his enthusiasm will be fantastic," he says. "I'm genuinely sure we've got the ability within this squad."

England's recent hard work should pay off today but a little magic from Flutey would be a welcome bonus.