With marks out of 10 for each part of their game, which fly-half wins the battle?

It should come as no surprise that England's recent successes in international rugby union began, in part, with the arrival of fly-half Jonny Wilkinson.

His 29 points against South Africa in Bloemfontein in the summer of 2000 heralded a new beginning for Clive Woodward's side and also marked the arrival of a fresh young talent - a player regarded by many as the complete modern fly-half.

In just 26 caps, Wilkinson has notched up an enormous 389 points. But how good is he?

The number 10 jersey has traditionally been the preserve of the Welsh, of breaking fly-halves who leave defences gasping on their way to the try-line.

The game has certainly changed, but the memories of the infamous Welsh fly-half factory live on.

Wilkinson's future as an English rugby hero has already been secured, but how does he fare against rugby's first prototype superstar, and perhaps the greatest outside-half of them all, Barry John?

John's antics on the field have become the stuff of rugby legend, a factor helped in part, by his premature retirement at the age of 27.

Wilkinson's distribution perhaps gets the better of John here, though their approaches to the game are almost irreconcilable.

The Frimley-born player has a fine tactical brain and a left boot that constantly torments defences. He makes few mistakes and his distribution is second-to-none.

John, on the other hand, lived for the moment and his ability to catch the opposition by surprise proved his ultimate talent.

What Wilkinson provides in terms of control, John added in excitement.

Despite a hatred for training and fitness sessions (he was usually found playing football with Gareth Edwards), John's turn of speed was remarkable.

With a hip movement reminiscent of another 'King', he drifted through gaps only he could see, prompting one former rival to admit: "I was always relieved to see Barry walk through the door at after-match dinners, rather than materialise through a wall."

The modern game may have well proved his undoing, of course, but there is still no substitute for genuine pace off the mark.

Wilkinson wins this hands down. He belies his relatively small frame by putting in some of the biggest hits ever seen on a rugby union field.

John too, was no stranger to the tackle (he broke his nose with a Grand Slam saving challenge on Benoit Dauga in the closing seconds against France).

But with a style more reminiscent of rugby's other code, the English fly-half never shirks his responsibility and has the ability to turn defence into attack.

In his match commentaries, legendary BBC rugby commentator Bill McLaren often refers to certain players having time to perform their duties and functions on the field with ease.

Whether fielding the ball from behind his goal-line, or finding the support when all seems lost, he is a player who can be and is relied upon to make the correct decision whatever the state of play.

But John was, quite simply, the master. Welsh number eight Mervyn Davies still shakes his head in disbelief at the mere mention of his name.

"We'd all be in the dressing room banging our heads against the wall and Barry would be in such a relaxed state you'd think he was going out for a stroll," he said.

"He was so laid back he'd say, 'Don't worry boys it's only a game.

"Just give me the ball and I'll win it. It's only the All Blacks. How many points do you want me to score today?'" Enough said.

Modern fly-halves have quickly developed into ruthless kicking machines and Wilkinson's prolific form with the boot puts him near the top of the pile.

Another Welshman Neil Jenkins currently holds the record for most international points scored, but how long that will last is anyone's guess.

With English rugby becoming stronger seemingly by the day, Wilkinson's array of fans and admirers will similarly grow. And rightly so.

But the days of amateurism hold a particular fascination for rugby fans, perhaps because players were more able to exploit the available gaps in defences.

When John retired it shocked the rugby world. Even the sports editor of the Daily Mirror who had negotiated a price for his story (thereby ruling out any return to the amateur game) tried to get him to postpone the decision for two years.