Ok, so 'old dog' is a hugely unfair on the dapper David James, but you get the gist. The 61-year-old management consultant was the surprise package at this year's Hackney Empire New Act of the Year final, pipping many a young whippersnapper to third place. So what's his story? London is Funny found out.

Fergus Craig may have been belle of the ball at the Hackney Empire last weekend, shuffling off with the New Act of the Year award thanks to a bemused, if sharp routine. But to many comedy fans, Fergus is already known to be a fine comedian, in his solo work (catch him at the Albany next week, particularly if you are a fan of Neighbours) and in a duo with Colin Hoult.

But, despite this, it was David James who was the story of the night.

The 61-year-old took third place in the competition, after only doing four open spots and one proper gig – ever! It makes a mockery of the years of toiling normally required for a bold, immaculately timed set such as his. Clearly, the guy's a natural.

Except, he has been toiling. Just not as a comedian. He is a management consultant and trainer by trade, and has had his own company, MANTRAP, for 16 years and before that he worked in the city for many more.

And David's office-based career has proved a handy foundation to a foray into comedy: "I've done a lot of public speaking and managing, had a lot of meetings, so that has perhaps been a great help in holding people's attention.

"I get asked to do other things like do a talk at a parent's evening, or do the MC bit at a festival that my daughter's piano teacher organises. So on occasions you do find yourself alone on stage with a microphone.

"My first experience with getting people to laugh was with some jokes during training sessions. Anyone who has ever been on a training course knows you need to lighten the mood, and I found I could do that."

99 wrong ways, 1 right

So, speaking in public – tick. For David, who is as polite and suave as befits a Des Lynam doppelganger, the small matter of writing was more of a concern. And it wasn't until a business trip to Brussels, when Simon Evans and Phil Nichol happened to be in town for a gig, that he spoke to them and was told that one can take writing courses ("even though I'm a professional trainer, this had never occurred to me.")

Next stop, the Edinburgh Fringe 2007, where he completed a writing course and decided: "Ok, I'm bloody well gonna do this now."

Now he writes a minute a week and has respect for "the absolute precision you need in writing; there seems to be one right way of doing things and 99 wrong ways. One word out of place and it loses its impact."

The result is taut, meticulous material delivered with highly effective pauses – the sort of king-sized pauses that only men, not boys, ever have the balls to attempt.

Not that David, a father of two and grandfather of one, doesn't feel he can learn anything from those on the circuit in their teens or 20s: "This is all new to me still," he says. "I only did my first open spot in May last year [and his second after a three-month gap, to the consternation of Peter Grahame at the King's Head], so I shut up and listen to the young comedians. What they do is different to me and I can learn from them. Good writing is all about observation.

He adds: "I take my hat of to those young ones. They're learning about writing and performing at the same time at a young age, and in public too; I got a lot of performance out of my system in my various jobs."

Among the many young comics David, from Sussex, rates highly are John Kearns and impressionist Eve Webster, while Eddie Izzard is something of a hero, and he grew up an avid fan of the Goons, Round the Horne and Hancock's Half Hour. In fact, a precocious and possibly quite annoying young David was able to recite pretty much whole episodes of Hancock's Half Hour. Might come in handy on stage one day.

Finding that ceiling

So how ambitious is he, given he is a businessman accustomed to success and getting this his way?

"Well I'm the sort of person who quickly realises when reached his natural level," he says. "I've reached my level in music – as a choir boy I had ideas about winning a scholarship, but I realised I wasn't quite good enough and that was fine.

"I've always played a lot of squash and there was a time when I wanted to play for my county, but it didn't happen and I was happy to just keep on playing, as I do now.

"It's a case of taking pressure off yourself. However good you are, there will always be someone better. In fact that's something I try to teach people in my training.

"So one day I'll hit my level with comedy. I think I can go up a few notches, but I'll hit a ceiling. These are just the early stages of a comedy career that I hope will go on for a long time.

He adds: "Last week [at Hackney Empire] was a great start and a fantastic experience, for everyone that is; it was breathtaking to look out on an empty theatre beforehand, then hear the general hubbub of conversation in the build up – like listening to an orchestra warming up, building up the anticipation.

"We all knew it was a memory we would all take to the grave and I was ecstatic to come third – it was the icing on a very big cake."