In primary school he drew out his future as only a child could do. It was fearless and unlikely, but left no room for doubt or questioning. It was a life of rugby with Ulster, with Ireland.

In Birmingham, where he lived in the early years, football and Sutton Coldfield intruded but when the family returned to Belfast in 2000, he shook off his Brummy accent and fed himself into the Methodist College rugby machine. That year was less a move of house than a homecoming.

His brother Paul and sister Kerry also went to Methody, as did his cousins; his grandfather Ray Lindsay, his uncle Stanley and his uncle Graham Jackson too; and his father Peter.

His great uncle Stanley Jackson, who was born and bred in Wellesley Avenue next to the school, was an RAF fighter pilot who died in 1940 aged 19. When Paddy went for his entrance interviews with Paul and Kerry in 1999, Peter pointed up to great uncle Stanley’s name on the school’s roll of honour.

The more Methody churned, the bigger he grew. And no thoughts other than professional rugby ever entered his head.

“It was set in stone from when I was about six years old. My entire family is mad into it. My cousins, my uncles . . . and my brother is involved with Ulster now. It was something I wanted from primary school. It was basically rugby or nothing. My dad wasn’t pushy about it. He knew what I wanted and backed me.”

Childish bravado

Now 23 years old, simple reasoning again governs his rugby. He has had to rediscover the clutter-free childish bravado and grow beyond doubt.

Shaking off adult weakness is no easy task. There are peaks and troughs. But after an injury-riddled season Jackson has reaffirmed himself in the Ulster team. People are again talking.

“This whole season, all the injuries . . . two concussions, a shoulder, my elbow,” he says. “When I’m playing my best I’ve had back-to-back games.

“When I was coming back from previous injury I was perhaps over-thinking things, trying to get back to form as quickly as I could. This time I’m relaxed a bit more.

“I’ve always been able to be calm on the pitch. I’ve learned over the years because I came in at a young age and I have had a lot of experience of the ups and downs.

“Once you know you can come back from stuff like that, you can get better at doing it. If something doesn’t go my way on the pitch, I’m better equipped to deal with it.”

Johnny Sexton has made a virtue out of cranky intensity and has fashioned what could be an irritation to other players into a creative stick and an energy. So too has Jackson learned to bark more on the pitch, invite responsibility and shove around older players. Misgivings about position or hierarchy have vanished. He can also move on quickly.

Jared Payne spoke about him this week. He remembers Ulster's 42-14 Heineken Cup final defeat to Leinster in 2012. The Irish centre wasn't playing but watched how 20-year-old Jackson misfired on the day and how it crushed him. The fallout was a clamour for Ian Madigan to back Sexton with Ireland. A player barely out of his teens on the scrapheap.

Daring himself again

“It seems like he’s become a bit more, not laid-back, but he doesn’t get as cut up,” says Payne. “That Heineken Cup final, he beat himself up pretty badly. He didn’t have that good a game and the way you see how he reacts to poor games now. I guess he realises it’s not the end of the world.”

Ulster meet Munster today and with a season of injury now buried Jackson is daring himself again. He’s picking and choosing when to change direction, when to attack, when to kick, when not to kick. No one can question how he can pass the ball. He’s also developing, as he showed recently against Leinster, a running game. More than anything, he wants to be in control.

“At school I always wanted to be outhalf,” he says. “I always wanted to be the guy in charge. Then once I stepped into professional rugby as a young player I struggled to learn to boss around these older guys. It took me a while to get used to that.

“Now it’s second nature to me and it’s part of the game I love. I see myself as a big voice on the pitch and I have to be as an outhalf. It’s basically my job to do that. I like being that main voice and I like being the guy giving the orders.

“I’ve been playing for five seasons. When I first started, I couldn’t believe I was playing with someone like Ruan [Pienaar].

“He’s quiet on the pitch. A lot of the voice would come from me.”

It’s inviting to sketch today’s game as a duel between Ian Keatley and Jackson with the last outhalf left standing earning the right to Joe Schmidt’s affection.

It was Keatley who started in this season's Six Nations when both Jackson and Sexton were injured. But Schmidt has reached for Jackson in the past. He spoke to him after he dislocated his elbow, told him to get back to full fitness, practice kicking. No promises. No favours. Just picking up the phone was plenty.

Jackson is weathered now too and knows his mind. He’s old enough to see the pitfalls and not too young to be dispassionate, an old player in a young man’s body.

“I’m kinda sick of saying it’s time to bring home some silverware,” he says wearily. “It was nice beating Leinster and more or less putting them out of the league. They’ve knocked us out of countless tournaments. But that’s only one game.

Noticed at the top

“We haven’t won anything since I’ve been here. If you want to be noticed at the top, you want to be winning big games. That’s exactly what I have my sights on.”

His control and purpose and his work ethic are what other players admire.

He’s still, give or take the months, six years younger than Sexton, five years younger than Keatley and three younger than Madigan.

"I was getting to a point where I thought maybe I've fallen a bit too far behind to get back," he says of the injuries and World Cup prospects.

He fractionally hesitates before the six-year-old kicks in and he sees his future with more certainty.

“But if I keep my form,” he adds, “I think I should be within a shout.”