There are times when the banality of modern sport and of the people that populate its dishwater-dull world can be overwhelmingly depressing. The tedious set-piece interviews, the drip-feed of gossip and tittle-tattle, the shameless hunt for money and self-serving adulation. Throw in a smattering of drug-driven cheating and the ruthless pursuit of success at the expense of anything remotely resembling principle and it becomes difficult to retain any degree of optimism.

People like Barney Curley exist as a counter-balance to all of that, and his continued towering presence is proof that there is still room for colour, humour and some simple, down to earth humanity in this modern sporting life.

Curley's life-story reads like a sprawling morality trail, encompassing gambling coups, feuds and periodic flirts with bankruptcy and financial ruin. And it is one that has taken him down some unexpected routes.

Curley, the Northern born professional gambler, remains most famous and most infamous for one of the greatest Irish betting scams of them all on June 25th, 1975, at Bellewstown. At the time, there was only one telephone line in and out of the course and Curley's tactic was breathtakingly simple. While he and others working in concert with him piled on to a horse called Yellow Sam in an amateur riders handicap Hurdle, another friend went into the lone phone box at the course 25 minutes before the off and ensured that there was no communication from the bookmakers in the High Street shops.

The result was that the horse started the race at odds of 20 to 1 because the bookies had been unable to lay off their potential losses on course and so bring the Yellow Sam's price down. The plan worked like a dream. Nobody could get on the phone and so the horse's price remained unchanged despite the huge bets which had been laid off course.

The last remaining piece of the jigsaw was Yellow Sam's victory in the race itself. Once that was delivered, Curley and his friends won something in the region of £300,000, approximately £1.4 million in today's terms. Curley's place in gambling and racing legend was secured.

Somewhere along the line, though, Curley's life took a different turn and in recent years he seems to have happened on a purpose and a reason for all of the wheeling and dealing. But even this venture is laced through with irony.

The great gambler and chaser after riches is now one of the prime movers behind the charity, Direct Aid for Africa (DAFA). This is an organisation dedicated to raising money to help the poor of Zambia, and in particular those who are suffering from AIDS. The funds collected are used to build hospices so that the dying can do so with some degree of dignity and self-respect.

Direct Aid for Africa has become one of the focal points of Barney Curley's life and much of the work he now does is directed towards continuing what it has started in Africa. Curley has also shown a willingness to lead by example. All the profits from his 1999 autobiography Giving A Little Back went to DAFA, and Curley is one of the main movers behind next Sunday's All-Ireland Donkey Derby at Mullaghmore, Co Sligo, all the proceeds of which will be given to the African charity.

The premise is a simple one and involves encouraging the owners of animals from all over the country to enter them in a championship race. They're apparently still looking for more donkeys to compete, so even the Armagh championship half back line might be tempted. Beyond the fun element, all money generated will go to DAFA and the hope is that the novel occasion will do much to raise the profile of the charity. It is a worthy and worthwhile event, deserving of the support of anyone in a position to contribute.

Another of those involved is Curley's close friend, Frankie Dettori, who has donated the prize money of 4.5 million Italian lira. That may not amount to as much as it might appear, but no matter. Dettori's contribution and a willingness to be associated with DAFA is an obvious focal point for the entire event.

The friendship between the two men and the way in which they have used their little bit of celebrity and public profile in such a positive and altruistic way is testimony to the streak of innate decency that seems to run right through the sport of racing. The end result is a sport filled with fundamentally good people who always seem to have an eye keenly trained on the bigger picture.

Charity events and fund-raising ventures, whether for injured jockeys or other worthy causes outside of the sport altogether, are regular occurrences and the efforts of men like Barney Curley and Frankie Dettori put other navel-gazing sports people to shame.

Racing has had its image problems in the past and some of the charges of elitism levelled against it were wholly justified. But anyone who has been fortunate enough to spend time around the men and women involved in the sport could not help but be impressed by the refreshing lack of the cynicism and world-weariness that seem to be a pre-requisite for engagement with most other modern sports.

Those at the top of the sport also seem to regard each other with the greatest respect and there is very little of the back-biting and coldness so prevalent elsewhere. A case in point is the fascinating rivalry that has been developing over this season between Dettori and Mick Kinane as they compete on the two great horses of recent times, Fantastic Light and Galileo. Their encounters, first at Ascot and then last Saturday, have been captivating sporting theatre of the highest quality.

More than anyone else, Barney Curley must take great delight in the horsemanship and sportsmanship of his good friend Dettori. Next Sunday his focus will be on the unlikely venue of Mullaghmore, Co Sligo, one more stop off on a remarkable journey. But he can be buoyed by the knowledge that he is making a difference. Like the man says, he's giving a little back.

All-Ireland Donkey Derby, 1.30 p.m. Sunday, September 16th in Mullaghmore, Co Sligo.