The fondly imagined script for this year's John Smith's Grand National foresaw glory for the son of a famous Aintree father, and that was duly delivered. But the name was Pipe, not McCain, the winner Comply Or Die not Cloudy Lane, and the headline story was neither the trainer nor the horse.

Timmy Murphy's life has already visited such stark extremes that it was perhaps inevitable he would win the most famous race of all. There should be no lazy talk of redemption, though, for he found that some time ago through a good job, a good woman and a reformed approach to a life that was once out of control.

The prison sentence he served for drunken excesses, six years ago, will never be erased from his mind, any more than the misery and disorientation that followed. But, though he can sometimes look consumed by melancholy, his new, teetotal perspective is tinged with humour. “Rock bottom is when you're dead,” he told a post-race inquisitor. “I never got that far.”

Nor did he ever lose the God-given talent for race-riding. Instead, he has filed away the rough edges of impatience that once mirrored his addictive personality and become the most serene and sympathetic jockey. His supervision of Comply Or Die, who outstayed a posse of Irish-trained pursuers to win by four lengths, may be shown to future generations as the exemplar of navigating a horse around Aintree.

Murphy, 33, had rebuilt his career away from the spotlight, commuting between England and Ireland, head-down in grim determination. But the chance to restore himself to the main stage was offered by the owner of Comply Or Die, David Johnson, who took him on four years ago as the retained rider for his string of 80 horses.

The ironies are profound. Murphy replaced the departed Tony McCoy, who on Saturday failed for the thirteenth time to win a National. Johnson's choice was not approved by Martin Pipe, father of David, yet the union survived a rocky baptism to enjoy ultimate validation in the Liverpool sunshine.

“Timmy was my choice, not the Pipes',” Johnson admitted. “We've all got a few skeletons but to me he was a natural horseman, a kind rider who would bring my horses back for another day. Even before this, there has never been a moment of regret.”

Murphy describes Johnson as “a friend more than a boss” and is frank about the importance of their relationship. “I owe him everything,” he said. “He's always let me ride the way I want and he's a great loser, too. I've longed for him to have more good horses, so this means a huge amount.”

For Johnson, it was vindication for his withdrawal of a stated aversion to Aintree, after a series of misfortunes and fatalities. “It was affecting my wife and daughter and I couldn't have that,” he said. “I did say I wouldn't have any more runners here but that was in the heat of a bad moment. Maybe it was the trainer [Pipe] who persuaded me back but Aintree is much improved, much kinder to horses.”

Paradoxically, this had been a subdued season for Johnson's horses, with many of the best sidelined by injury. It had led to renewed rumour that he might further downsize his commitment to Pipe, who trains the vast majority. Events in Liverpool have surely scotched such talk.

Even before the National, Johnson had tasted grade one victory through Our Vic, who also won at Cheltenham. Murphy was aboard him, too, and the jockey's landmark meeting was augmented on Saturday by Al Eile in the Aintree Hurdle. “I guess people will forget all that after the National, but I won't,” he said.

In his moment of glory, this singular jockey, with his often conflicting streaks of genius and perversity, behaved delightfully out of character, even performing an impromptu dance on the winner's rostrum. But later, as the champagne flowed at the winners' party in Liverpool, he sipped water reflectively and, yesterday morning, he rose soberly as ever and headed off for two modest rides at Southwell.

This summer, Murphy will marry Verity Green, bubbly daughter of the racehorse owner Ray. He is looking for property in the Cotswolds and has framed a future breaking-in, maybe even training, horses. Murphy is solid, stable and happy. It would take more than a National victory to knock him off course.

The same can doubtless be said for David Pipe, refreshingly open son of the 15-times champion trainer. His second year with the licence has brought a new assertion to his manner, which this triumph will reinforce. It cannot always have been easy, following a legendary father, but Pipe, who celebrated royally with something stronger than water, is now demonstrably his own man.