The Owner: Archie O'Leary

As business addresses go, Cork city's South Mall is pretty exclusive. Central, leafy, polite. The ruthlessness and swagger of making money lurks just under the steadfastly-maintained veneer of bonhomie. Lurking but never spilling over. In the home of the cute hoor, it would be a severe showing of the slip to have it any other way.

No. 6 isn't noticeably different at first. The reception reveals the usual array of feverishly-pounded computer terminals, professional pleasantness and the faint desperation of the deadline. Upstairs though, the boss' office is something of a sanctuary.

"In the back office on the third floor across the road, there is where I started off on my own in 1961. One fella and one girl, and the fella wouldn't even talk to me!" grins Archie, as he surveys the Mall from the second floor window of Archie O'Leary Insurances Ltd. The prim order of the office filing cabinets, the luxuriantly-welcoming leather chairs and the expensive view are a world away from the earthy vigour of the racetrack, but then you see the life on the wall.

A picture of the Irish rugby team that faced Scotland in 1952, Archie in the middle with Kyle, Mullen and other legends from a time when mention of the Irish rugby team didn't arouse titters of embarrassment or, after Paris last weekend, gasps of incredulity. Then there's Captain Archie, the man who twice skippered a boat in the Irish Admiral's Cup team. Or the time he led the Fastnet until 40 miles from the finish when the boat hit a calm. Or the time when . . .

Stories told with such understated charm and such an easy manner that it's almost impossible not to warm to the man. 68-years-old, he'd pass for 10 years younger. Bespectacled but perceptive. A handshake like the rock of Gibraltar and a life of accomplishment that causes qualms of conscience in those less motivated. Almost a cliche in fact, but there's too much shrewd reality going on for it to be bought entirely.

"There's 100 employees now and we've offices in Cork, Mallow and Dublin. And we've just opened a new office in Galway. I'd like it if you put that in by the way," he says, almost as an afterthought. The interview might be taking place because of the not inconsiderable fact that Archie owns what for many is the Irish banker at next week's Cheltenham festival, Florida Pearl, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's juggling more than the one ball here. Old habits die hard and in the insurance game, one of the hardest to sell of all, they never do.

"Ah, sure it was always the same," he grins. "The rugby was a great help when I was starting up. It was a great method of overcoming introductory barriers. People feel they know you. This is a ruthless business and, put it this way, Florida Pearl is no great disadvantage to us. He might not be a member of staff, but he's certainly making his contribution."

The fact that O'Leary can tell a supposed interrogator all this and still come across like he's doing you a favour only emphasises the skill he possesses in selling what he wants to sell. It also hints at the business flint behind the urbanity. But it's an edge that in one respect he freely admits might be in need of a rasp.

Florida Pearl, the unbeaten racehorse with the looks, scope and potential of a champion, might be one of that rare breed who actually exceed expectations. Usually such hyperbole ends up like the Hindenburg, but there are more than O'Leary who believe this horse can be the exception.

"I find myself dreaming of the horse at night. It must be old age I guess. I don't feel any pressure but I find he takes up a lot of my thinking day," he concedes. Such self-analysis sits uneasily with him, though, and the quip appears with perfect timing. "Ted Walsh I think said that having a winner at Cheltenham is like losing your virginity to Kim Basinger: It's all downhill afterwards. Mind you when I heard it, I had to ask my wife who is Kim Basinger!"

In Cork, few people ask who Archie O'Leary is. In a tight, small city, he freely concedes he comes from the Cork establishment.

Brought up the son of a Doctor on the College Road - "My father was the first to scale the flag pole at UCC, then Queen's College, to haul down the flag that was there and put up the tricolour. He was wearing an Irish kilt at the time!" - O'Leary was a student at Presentation College when forced to leave aged 16 after his father died.

Starting in the insurance business didn't seem all that glamorous - "Damn all else to do except file" - but a Munster Cup medal with Pres had sign-posted his talent as a second row forward. He was with Highfield for one year before joining Cork Con, a club which he captained, was president of, and is now a trustee of.

"Rugby was fun especially compared to the stern faces at work now," he says, remembering the men he played with when winning the first of his three caps in 1952. Legends like Kyle, Mullen, Tom Clifford, Jim McCarthy. After playing well for Munster against the Springboks, the 22-year-old O'Leary came into the Irish team after Robin Thompson cried off.

"What I mainly remember is going down on a ball, getting kicked and breaking two ribs and having to play on because Mick Lane had already gone off. That was a f---ing painful experience. But on the Monday afterwards, I had an X-ray done which cost £1 11s 6d and I sent the bill to the IRFU. I got a snotty reply back which said this is an amateur game and no way were they paying," he says, before adding with relish: "I'm tempted now to send the bill back with interest, take the piss out of them."

Not surprisingly, he is not a fan of professionalism and worries for the future of the game here, despite describing Paris as a great lift.

"We have a lack of players and our approach has to become more professional if it is to work at all. Salt away the best of the school players, and attract the GAA players, and put them into somewhere like Thomond College to improve their strength and ball skills. The All Blacks do it, so too the Australian cricketers. It might not work, but there is no point doing what we're doing now. With Sky TV around, there's plenty of money at the moment, but Sky won't be around if we don't produce the goods," he concludes.

It was a different environment in O'Leary's playing days. A six-week tour of Argentina and Chile was taken seriously, but not overly so. "It was an anxious time because the day we flew out, Eva Peron died and I don't think the government in Argentina was pro-rugby. I guess they thought it represented the Capitalist society or something, but even so it was still a very enjoyable tour, no strict regimentation. I remember a small local team called Pucera beat us and Jim McCarthy still says they were the local fire brigade." For a man whose sporting resume also includes captaining his own boat in the Irish Admiral's Cup teams of 1975 and 1977, Florida Pearl may seem like an almost unfair piece of jam, but no one is relishing it more than O'Leary.

The man's roots in reality are only emphasised by his tale of not entering racehorse ownership until the early 1990s when he felt he could properly afford it, but with Florida Pearl concern about profit and loss have long since been forgotten, replaced by dreams of what could be. After having had horses with Tony Redmond and John Kiely, O'Leary first made contact with Willie Mullins in 1993 and thought he had bought a world beater in Afghani until the horse started what were to become a legion of problems.

"I bought Afghani one week before he won at Listowel and I told Willie if he won he would have half the prize-money. A week after Listowel, the horse got a tendon. Willie rang to tell me and told me he'd torn up the cheque. Not many trainers are that up front. It was great psychology too of course," he adds knowingly.

It paid off with Florida Pearl, who was bought for £50,000 from Tom Costello after only one point-to-point run. "If he had turned out to be useless, I'd have looked an asshole, but there's no point being like so many others who are paying five or six grand and hoping they'll buy another Arkle. Willie just said `it's your money' and I said `go'." Florida Pearl has never stopped going. Even before his first racecourse run, O'Leary turned down £120,000 from English owner Andrew Cohen, but after winning that Leopardstown race and then winning the Cheltenham bumper, there was never any question of selling. Still, though, offers of over £300,000 have been made since Florida Pearl has taken to fences.

"What am I supposed to do with that kind of money, count it every evening? Have two steaks instead of one? Maybe if a Sheikh offered £500,000 and then added another nought I might think about it, but this horse is all about enjoyment and the buzz," he says.

The buzz with Florida Pearl is not knowing how good he might become. Those who look at his last run in the PJ Moriarty Chase and believe they see stamina limitations may be only deluding themselves.

"Willie Mullins is very single-minded and nothing else matters this season except Cheltenham. An hour before the Moriarty he says to me `his blood isn't right'. `F--k it Willie, I don't want to hear it', I said, and yet the horse wins anyway. I'd say he was five per cent wrong in his blood and he was carrying a helluva lot of condition. I won't tell you how much."

O'Leary's confidence in Mullins, Florida Pearl and jockey Richard Dunwoody - "an education to watch him" - is total, as has been his regard for the Cheltenham festival which he first visited 37 years ago.

"It's an unbelievable experience. To have a winner there like we had last year just makes it more so. To me, it's like watching Frankie Sinatra playing in Vegas. It just doesn't get any better."

Whatever about Forida Pearl's tag as banker, there is one certainty at Cheltenham next week. Should the young superstar win, any delusions of gentility will disappear. "Liquidy," is what Archie O'Leary predicts the celebrations will be.

No one will enjoy them more.