Even for a one who stands out in most environs, Billy Joe Padden looks a touch incongruous as he loiters outside the front door chatting away. The jeans are boot-cut, the hair is wispy, the stubble a day old and the jacket pockets high. There aren't many inter-county footballers who could pass for one of The Strokes.

He finds us an empty office - there is, he admits, a certain irony to be found in the untidiness of the place given that he's a planner - and sits down for a chat. Just like anyone asked about him for this piece said he'd be, in conversation he's articulate and precise, careful with his words without being dull, sure of his thoughts without being cocky.

It's just gone five on Thursday afternoon and with his day's work done and training only nine miles out the road later on, he's happy to give of his time.

Life's peachy just now. He'll be 25 in July, maybe a candle or two past the age where he should have established himself as a countyman but with lots of time left all the same.

Things have a habit of happening fast, anyway. Last summer, he made his championship debut, won the Connacht GAA writers' award for player of the month and lost his first Connacht final all within the space of a few weeks. Plenty to deal with there, you would have thought. But he learned long ago the value of playing each ball on its merits.

"I don't know that I found a massive difference to be honest, " he says. "Championship's that bit quicker alright but the only real difference is probably the big crowds and you learn to deal with that fairly quickly. I think you equate big days with how you judge them yourself and you attach your own importance to them. It's like a stepping stone all up along. When you're a minor, making your minor championship debut is the biggest thing in the world. But after that, you get used to it.

"The Connacht final was disappointing in that we didn't play at all. I think Galway set out to get numbers around us and it worked.

They really closed us down.

In saying that, we didn't play particularly well on the day.

On the whole, we felt we should have done better as a team last year."

Not a bad year for yourself, though?

"Oh, no. For me personally, it was great. I suppose the year you make your championship debut is always going to be great, isn't it? I was disappointed not to get a game the year before because although I'd played the whole way through the league, I didn't see a minute of football come the summer. So in that respect, last year was great for me."

Destiny is for love songs, of course, but there has always been a sense that here is where Padden's been headed. He ticked all the boxes as a youngster. There were the bloodlines, naturally, and we'll get to them in due course but it was more than that besides.

He lifted the All Ireland Vocational School's Cup as captain in 1999 and only just missed out on an All Ireland minor medal the same year.

And even though the next few years were more small steps than giant leaps, few were in any doubt that the big time would be his stage some day. Mostly, the question has been one of when or where rather than if.

"I'm just happy that I'm getting a game. I've played a bit at midfield and the rest of the matches at wing-forward, even though I'd never played an awful lot at wing-forward before. But when you spend a summer on the bench you appreciate being in the side, no matter where you're playing. I'd rather play midfield given the choice, I suppose.

You're more involved there and you can have more influence on the game. But I'll play anywhere."

And with that wept a legion of us sad press types who'd much rather he played along and gave us a neat little yarn about the Mayo midfield torch being handed down along with the pocket money in the Padden household. For as long as he ties laces on his boots, he'll be asked about the father. He doesn't mind.

Or if he does, he's too polite to grumble or see it as a burden.

"Ah, I know it'll always come up in interviews so I always say the same thing. It doesn't bother me at all. It probably helped me in the beginning, actually, in that people remembered my name quicker than they might have otherwise. When I was trying to make my way on to Mayo under-16 squads or Mayo minor squads, it probably helped that if someone saw me playing and asked who I was, people could turn around and say, 'That's Willie Joe's young fella.'

"But otherwise, it's had no effect on me at all. Football has moved on massively since his day and to compare us is completely pointless. We're totally different footballers.

He was an exceptional fielder and that's something that I'm not particularly good at at all."

The Joe he shares with his dad doesn't actually refer to anyone in particular, it turns out. "There's just a history of triple-barrelled names in my family, I think. We're both William Joseph Padden and I've a cousin Patrick Joseph, a couple of them actually. I think it's a west of Ireland thing, there seems to be a lot of people with names like that."

Few as visible as him, though. But he carries it well, doesn't hide from it. Where a whole generation of Mayo people came away from the sorrowful mysteries of Meltdown 96/97, Padden took lessons about preparation and performance and expectations into the future with him. Par for the course in an elite sportsman, remarkable for a 15/16 year-old.

There's a level-headedness about him, a maturity not often seen in players starting out on only their second year of championship ball.

As a for instance, he has no problem waiting in the dressing room for the extra 15 minutes this afternoon so that the GPA can make their point but nor is he afraid to ask questions about where it is all leading to.

"I remember paying the GPA membership a couple of years ago but I haven't paid since and they haven't come looking for it. I still get the texts but I'm not an active member. Or at least I don't think I am anyway.

"But I agree with what they're doing in that I'm sure there are players who aren't being taken care of in some counties. All I can say is that I've never had a problem and I know the rest of the Mayo lads are well taken care of by the Mayo County Board. I can see where they're coming from and I think everyone would agree that things have definitely got better for intercounty players just by the very fact of the GPA being there.

"But as to whether we can go professional, I think definitely not. Whether the whole grant scheme can work, I don't know. I'm not sure I fully understand it. I mean, does the money come from the government? If so, why would every inter-county GAA player in the country get it and not other amateur sportspeople? And if not, does the GAA then pay for it? It's a cloudy area. But there's no doubt that the GPA have improved things immeasurably just by being a voice."

Calm, sensible, measured and, despite the look, not very rock 'n' roll. Maybe he wears suits the rest of the week.