For every winner ridden by Paul Carberry there seems to be five stories that revolve around the man and his ability to walk on the wild side: And Sugah, that means a lot of stories.

By popular repute there isn't a pub in these islands that Carberry hasn't been in, in full hunting garb, and still attached to the horse underneath. Nor is there a river in the country that an exuberant Carberry hasn't dived into in the middle of the night while in various states of undress.

Legions of other yarns have entered the realms of popular myth but most have been doctored to protect the innocent. Significantly, very few first-hand witnesses would not have Carberry in that category.

"There isn't an ounce of badness in him," reported one journalist who returned from a jockeys' trip to Australia some years ago, during which Carberry had enlivened racecourse proceedings by having his ghetto blaster impounded for reasons of volume.

In an age of sports psychologists, focus and routine self-mutilation for even the briefest deviation from perfection, Ratoath's favourite son has been a heart-warming hark back to times when people were less obsessed with themselves.

Richard Dunwoody once claimed if Carberry was in Paris, and happened to see the Eiffel Tower, he would not be happy until he had organised a cheval to have a crack at jumping the thing.

Along the way, races like the Aintree Grand National, the Irish National and the Galway Plate, have fallen to the old-fashioned thrill-seeker but even those victories couldn't stop the whispers that Carberry was being less than fair to his outrageous gifts. The young man would turn into an old man with regrets.

What a difference a season can make. To watch Paul Carberry for the last six months has been to see one of sport's most difficult jobs performed with a style that even now almost guarantees he will pick up his first jockeys' championship.

Such statements have a habit of inducing painful reminders that in jump racing disaster is always just a fence away but it's undeniable that Carberry is riding at a level most can only dream of.

However, he knows better than anyone not to count chickens. Two years ago, a broken leg kept him out of action for four months. The following year he almost died from a spleen injury. But even among his peers, there is a widespread desire that injury will not get in the way this time.

"Probably the greatest natural talent I have ever seen," is the verdict of the Gold Cup winning jockey Conor O'Dwyer. "There are brilliant riders around who have worked on their game but from day one Paul Carberry hasn't had to improve on anything. It's been literally all there from day one."

There is also general ackowledgement that whatever about the merits of Ruby Walsh, Barry Geraghty and the rest of the Irish jockeys, a focused Carberry carries just that extra bit of elan. Happily that focus is all too obvious.

O'Dwyer says: "He is more mature now. It happens to us all with a bit of age. He has settled down and realised he needs to take care of his talent. He is a hugely talented fella who is unlucky not to have been champion two or three times already.

"Stories are always exaggerated but even still, he was as mad as you'd want! People thought when he went off the drink he would change but there hasn't been any change. It wasn't drink that was driving him to do the crazy stuff.

"But the thing is that Paul is hugely popular. If he is champion for the next 20 years, he won't change. He has time for everyone and nobody says he doesn't deserve the run of luck he is having."

That run has seen Carberry total over 70 winners since June; claim the ride on one of racing's best and most popular horses, Limestone Lad, and make him a whiter than hot favourite to be the leading rider at Leopardstown over Christmas.

The man himself puts his form down to a run without serious injury: "Usually by this time of the year I'm broken up."

Like most instinctive sportsmen, Carberry appears wary of analysing what he is doing too much. One is reminded of Duke Ellington's response to questions about his musical motivation: "That's the kind of talk that stinks the joint up!"

It's what happens on the track that counts and nobody more than Limestone Lad's trainer Michael Bowe appreciates better how articulate his jockey is in action.

"I have a suspicion Paul does most of his talking to the horse. His language is with him and not with me!" Bowe says.

"Having Paul ride means I'm confident I don't have to tell him anything. He is a true professional, very sharp and quick. Any instructions I might give would be an insult to his intelligence. Having him there is just reassuring for me.

"He is just a natural horseman. He has extraordinary balance and the horse just moves so easily for him. When Limestone won at Navan the last day, Paul didn't move his head to look around but just looked between his legs. He wasn't going to upset the horse's balance at all."

Now 27, Carberry has years of experience behind him since setting the flat race world alight as a teenager. His weight meant he was never going to be able to combine both codes, as his father Tommy could in the 1970s, but the variety of a career that also saw him ride in Britain for three years is paying off.

"I learned a lot when I went to England. Down south you really had to pull your socks up and try hard. It was very competitive," he concedes. He is now turning the heat on the domestic competition.

Carberry has an abundance of good rides lined up for one of Ireland's most prestigious meetings, including the exciting novice Harbour Pilot in the Neville & Sons Chase on Friday and on the same day Limestone Lad himself in the Woodies Hurdle.

"We usually have a good meeting there so I hope the winners keep firing up. The championship is the main thing and I just want to keep getting as many winners as possible," he says.

All of which means the stories are just going to keep on coming: they might be less entertaining and outrageous but for anyone interested in watching a great talent fulfil itself, they will be much more rewarding.