An Eddie Jones press conference has always been an event in itself.

You never quite know what is coming. A compliment, a cutting observation, a verbal grenade. Sometimes all three, invariably delivered with that mischievous smile.

Jones belongs to a disappearing generation of coaches who understood that the contest could begin long before the players took the field.

Warren Gatland could intimidate with his imposing presence and gruff demeanour alone. Jose Mourinho proclaimed himself 'The Special One' and made confrontation an art form.

Jones was different. Small in stature, with an almost permanent grin, he could stir up an entire nation while thoroughly enjoying himself.

All three built reputations on dominance. Not simply on the pitch, but over the agenda, their players and the organisations they represented.

But the language of coaching is changing.

Wales head coach Steve Tandy talks about connection and relationships. Brighton manager Fabian Hurzeler emphasises collaboration, trust and understanding the person behind the player.

Neither lacks ambition or authority, but their approach contrasts with the era of the all-powerful head coach.

At 66, Jones remains one of rugby's most fascinating characters from that old school.

In 2018 Jones questioned whether Wales fly-half Rhys Patchell could handle the pressure of playing England at Twickenham, while describing Warren Gatland's team as "confident and cocky".

But his provocations sometimes crossed the line.

That same year Jones apologised after footage emerged of him using some choice language to describe Wales and Ireland in less than flattering terms at a sponsor's event the previous year.

The former was classic Jones. Identify a weakness, plant a seed of doubt and ensure everyone was talking about it. The latter showed when the wind-ups went too far.

But how much was calculated?

Speaking to BBC Sport prior to Japan's Nations Championship meeting with Wales, Jones offered an intriguing explanation.

"Some of them were planned to an extent. Others might have come out of the press conference. Sometimes you say things at the press conference that you don't mean to say. But, yeah, sometimes."

Then came a surprising admission.

"And particularly with England, I always felt with the English that they didn't have enough confidence in themselves."

England? Lacking confidence?

Jones explained that part of his responsibility was to provide that self-belief.

"So I felt one of my roles was to give them that confidence, to be almost the battering ram for them."

For Jones, the mind games served more than one purpose. Unsettling opponents was one thing, but taking pressure off his players was just as important.

And if that meant making himself the centre of attention, so be it.

Jones is a man of contradictions.

An extraordinary workaholic, he is renowned for his almost impossible standards. Players have described receiving messages from him at 3am while he was exercising, only to be questioned at breakfast about why they had not replied.

Yet even as an international coach, Jones has been known to quietly turn up at local clubs to coach minis, or drive hours to a player's testimonial dinner without a fee.

His career has had its extremes. England dismissed him in 2022, while his return to Australia ended with the Wallabies' first pool-stage exit at the 2023 World Cup.

In Lyon, after Australia had been thrashed by Wales, the familiar grin was absent. Jones was prickly, irritated and facing questions about his future.

Three years on, as he looked forward to Japan facing Wales in Cardiff in the Nations Championship on Saturday, the contrast was striking. Relaxed, charming and generous with his answers, he appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

For all his contradictions, Jones remains a rugby obsessive. Nothing illustrated that better than his answer when asked which Welsh player had left the greatest impression on him.

Not Gareth Edwards, Shane Williams or Alun Wyn Jones, but Liam Williams, the former Wales and British and Irish Lions full-back renowned for his bravery under the high ball.

"Every time I come to Millennium Stadium (sic), I have this picture of Liam Williams winning box kicks," Jones told the Scrum V podcast.

"He was all elbows and knees, but he could do something brilliant in the game."

It was a rugby purist's answer. An appreciation of the finer details rather than simply the most celebrated names.

That affection for the finer details extends to Welsh rugby more broadly.

Jones spoke warmly of Cardiff's Principality Stadium and praised Steve Tandy's rebuilding work, particularly the leadership of Dewi Lake and Jac Morgan.

But the old competitive instincts remain.

Japan's coach knows the value of silencing the Cardiff crowd, and believes a strong start could turn Welsh supporters' frustrations into a psychological advantage.

Even the charming, reflective Jones is still searching for an edge.

As the conversation ended, he offered encouragement to Welsh supporters.

"So, yeah, for the Welsh supporters, just keep backing your team."

Then came one final qualification.

"But don't back them too much on Saturday."