Frankie Dettori is a football fan. Juventus and Arsenal are his favoured teams. Nothing surprising in that, but when asked recently who would he support if the clubs met in competition, Dettori had to retort: "Hey I know some people may forget, but I'm still an Italian boy you know!"

That that irrefutable truth had become a little fuzzy in so many people's minds only emphasises the popular hold that the 26-yearold from Milan exerts on racing in these islands.

For proof of that hold, just travel to the Curragh this weekend when Dettori makes his first trip of the year to Ireland to ride for Sheikh Mohammed's Godolphin team in the Guineas races. All you have to do is stand around the weighroom and wait for the diminutive, tanned figure to appear. Of if you can't see him just follow the paper and pencil wielding crowd. The grinning and dapper figure in the middle of them will be Dettori.

For the autograph hunters, the grin is everything. A fleet of other top class international jockeys will be at the Curragh today, too, but they don't bring that sense of exciting glamour and accessibility.

Nothing wrong with that. Everybody is different after all, except some of Dettori's rivals seem to thrive on presenting the sort of stone-faced grimness to the world that echoes golfer David Feherty's description of a grumpy Colin Montgomorie - "A face like a bulldog licking piss from a nettle." Dettori in contrast visibly enjoys his work, makes it seem fun which, since he is for many racing's most visible face, is the game's good luck.

A pleasant grin, a willingness to endlessly talk in his own singalong Italian-Cockney and a neat line in dismounting horses would mean little, though, if Dettori could not back it up. Two jockeys championships, every British classic bar the Derby, an Arc, King George, Breeders Cup, they all speak volumes for his talent. It's a talent that makes him as near as dammit the most prized big race rider in the world, a fact only emphasised by asking one of those questions that occasionally come up when racing people meet.

It's the usual thing. You stand to lose everything if one horse doesn't win - who do you pick to ride the horse? It's a tribute to the stature of Michael Kinane that in terms of strength, finesse and coolness under pressure he is placed right alongside his Italian friend in such fruitless discussions, but Kinane at 37 is at his peak. Dettori remarkably could only now be starting to fully mature.

"He's a fantastic champion. I thought Steve Cauthen was the perfect jockey to bring the American style of riding here, but Frankie has added to it. There are no weaknesses, he is very strong in a finish, but it's his personality that makes him special. Racing possibly more than any other sport needs its characters and Frankie is ours," says the Irish champion Christy Roche.

It was that character which helped make that day at Ascot on September 28th, 1996. Seven winners from seven rides, the 7-Up, the Magnificent Seven, the headline writers had almost as much of a field day as Dettori. Almost, because with pictures beamed worldwide of the famous Frankie dismount and that wonderfully distinctive crouch coming home in front seven times in succession, Dettori had taken racing on to a different level in terms of widespread popular appeal. His delight was infectious and possibly surprising for those who had known Dettori as a somewhat introverted child.

Lanfranco Dettori was born the son of the multi-Italian champion rider Gianfranco, who achieved fame in Ireland when winning the 1977 Irish 2,000 Guineas on Pampapaul. Young Dettori's parents split up when he was just six months old and although he lived with his mother until he was five, he moved to his father when he started school.

A busy stressful life roaming Europe as a jockey meant that Dettori's Snr and his son did not always have the easiest relationship. In his biography, Dettori writes: "My father was always cold. I suppose for me there was a lack of love. In those days I was very much into myself and my true character did not really come out until later."

A less than perfect home situation did, however, stiffen Dettori's resolve to be a jockey, a resolution honed on ponies bought by his father. At 14 he travelled to Newmarket to work for fellow Italian Luca Cumani. For a youngster with no English it was a nerve-wracking time, but after three months Dettori had settled and Cumani had spotted the latent talent in the increasingly cheeky young jockey.

Dettori spent seven years with Cumani, becoming champion apprentice and stable jockey before coming up against what has been the only real trough on his progression graph so far. He had decided to leave Newmarket to ride in Hong Kong, but in the winter of 1992 Dettori purchased a small amount of cocaine at a London club and was found with it by police. The Hong Kong option disappeared, the press attention became negative and Dettori had to roll his sleeves up. They have remained up ever since.

The most conspicuous evidence of that has been his relationship with Sheikh Mohammed, the world's most powerful owner, and his burgeoning Godolphin operation. Dettori's association in 1994 with the English Oaks and Irish Derby heroine Balanchine heralded the emergence of Godolphin and since then there has been a remarkable roll of honour. Lammtara, Moonshell, Classic Cliche, Mark Of Esteem and now Cape Verdi have all been Group 1 performers with Dettori on their backs.

The normally reserved and brooding Sheikh from Dubai has also it seemed fallen under the spell of his ebullient jockey. Where once there was haughty acceptance of victory in the winner's enclosure, now there are smiles, hugs and laughter as the Sheikh and his party try to make room for their jockey.

Dettori in return has claimed that he will ride for the Sheikh wherever Godolphin's main centre of operation happens to be. Considering Sheikh Mohammed's lease of Evry racecourse outside Paris, to be used as a training ground for two-year-olds, and his disillusionment with levels of prizemoney in Britain even the remote possibility of the loss to British racing of its most valuable advertisement is a vista too horrible for many.

A minority, however, might have a different reaction. One English trainer when asked recently to compare an apprentice, whose looks bear some resemblance to Dettori, with the real thing, said: "Well he dismounts from a horse properly and he speaks the Queen's English!"

No Italian would have such a sense of humour failure. Even one who supports Arsenal.