Sonny Bill Williams relishes return to rugby league and being in the thick of World Cup action First, as an angry 22-year-old, he walked out of a contract with the Canterbury Bulldogs, simply disappeared, hiring a private plane and following the money to join the French rugby union team Toulon in 2008. That coined the phrase Money-Bill. Another misdemeanour coined the phrase Dunny-Bill. Then having returned to league this year, he told New Zealand coach Stephen Kearney that he was unavailable for selection for the World Cup. Just 24 hours later, after the team had been announced, he changed his mind. He was accommodated and Melbourne Storm back-rower Tohu Harris dropped, without even making it to the plane. Because Sonny Bill is rugby gold. As Kearney said: "It's been a tough situation, but Sonny brings things to the group that we couldn't ignore." Watching the New Zealand league team train is a rather beautiful experience. Clean choreography, stretches, rhythmic strides and lots of grappling by large men in black shouting at each other as an unfriendly wind attacks the meadow. The fields, which double up as the training ground for St Helens, have not often hosted such a field of superstars. Afterwards, Williams speaks, surprisingly softly. When he returned to rugby league with the Sydney Roosters only this January, no one knew how he would take to it. But he shone, helping them to victory in the NRL Grand Final and winning the Jack Gibson medal as the club's player of the year. To make the reverse-transition from league to union so successfully, so quickly was astonishing. But why do it? Perhaps because in rugby league, he gets to be the big fish in a small pond. He played 19 games for the All Blacks but in the World Cup final he only came on for the last four minutes. As New Zealand attempt to upset the odds and retain the league crown they won, unexpectedly and without Sonny Bill, he gets to be the star. As he says: "Obviously rugby [union] is a bigger sport globally but I believe rugby league is a lot tougher. In rugby I played in the backs with the pretty boys kicking stones out wide, doing our hair, and in rugby league I'm in the middle doing the hard yards. He is a wiser man too, than the one who walked out on the Bulldogs. In 2008 he became a Muslim, the first to play for the All Blacks. He stopped drinking, and eschews the celebrity circuit, living instead with his extended family in the southern suburbs of Sydney. "I think one of the biggest things I learnt from the way I left rugby league in the first place was that life is not all about sport," he says. You finish at 32, 33 and you've still got your whole life to live. It was a big learning experience and it was really humbling as well. Now I'm very content with the man that I see in the mirror and the way I carry myself. On Sunday night, he will run out at Warrington's Halliwell Jones Stadium for the Kiwis" opening World Cup game against Samoa - the land of his father. He could have played for Samoa but is pleased with his choice. I'm proud of being half Samoan, my father is a pretty staunch Samoan but I grew up in New Zealand and I'm very proud to represent my country. His last question - whether he fancied a go in Super League - was optimistic. His plan for the next three years is said to be: one more season with the Roosters and then a return to union, before retaining the World Cup with the All Blacks then winning an Olympic medal at Rio in 2016. No time then for northern England. I'm getting a bit too old for that and I'm pretty content with my home at the Roosters and, if I go back to rugby, my home at the Chiefs. I'm a pretty simple man and although this weather is pretty tempting, I think I'll plan my future where it is a little bit warmer. He signed a few autographs, posed for a few more pictures, And then with a swish of his cape, and a shake of his just slightly rounded shoulders he was gone.In the comic books, superheroes wear pants over their tights. Sonny Bill Williams wears shorts over his leggings, but he is holding the rest of it together pretty well. Not many people could draw a crowd of more than 100 to a school playing field on a damp Wednesday morning in St Helens. But not many people have won the World Cup with the All Blacks, six heavyweight boxing bouts at national level and been lauded as the finest rugby league player of his generation. Williams is walking genetic good fortune on a massive scale. He has it all: speed, strength, and mental fortitude. Explosive thighs with sensational one-handed off-loads. The body of a pumped Michelangelo. Long eyelashes, honeyed skin. A face that has somehow come out of the ravages of boxing looking beatific. And he is 6ft 4in. The only flaw, a tiny flaw, is a small cut on his left hand, that he scratches and scratches at when he was talking. As he crosses the road with the rest of the New Zealand team for a training session, the patient fans pull down their hoods and take up their sleeves: where's that camera? Children, off school for half-term, line up for a photo - they grow up with the ball in their hands round these parts, and they know a hero when they see one. "When I walk the streets I get a lot of love and a lot of respect," Williams says. I don't know if it shows but I definitely walk around with a bit of a swagger because I'm happy as a man. But I also cop a lot of criticism. That is something of an understatement for, like all superheroes, Williams has flaws. Big flaws, unforgivable flaws in the eyes of some. He signed a few autographs, posed for a few more pictures, And then with a swish of his cape, and a shake of his just slightly rounded shoulders he was gone.