Myles Dungan's favourite saying, as disclosed by the RTE radio presenter in a magazine questionnaire recently, reads like a plea to potential critics as he prepares to step into the shoes of The Arts Show's Mike Murphy: "Don't judge me until you've walked in my moccasins."

While there will be much speculation about whether or not the current affairs broadcaster can walk the walk in that slot when Murphy retires in June, the release on Tuesday of the latest Joint National Listenership Research (JNLR) figures will focus attention on his performance as presenter of Five-Seven Live.

RTE's attempt to dominate the lucrative drivetime slot has been seriously threatened by Today FM's The Last Word, which the last JNLR figures showed had 144,000 listeners compared to Five-Seven Live's 200,000.

Of equal concern to RTE is the fact that The Last Word, presented by Eamon Dunphy, has almost twice the audience in the 20-44 age group. Industry sources predict the irreverent Today FM programme will almost equal the audience of Five-Seven Live when the latest figures are issued and is likely to surpass it in August when the next figures are due.

It would be unfair to blame Dungan for the current state of affairs. Media observers are quick to point the finger at the Five-Seven Live format, an action-packed, pacy, jingles all-the-way formula that has not proved fresh enough to obliterate the risk-taking, personality-driven Last Word. Five-Seven Live is a package similar to BBC Radio Ulster's Evening Extra, a programme RTE's director of radio, Helen Shaw, was involved in creating during her time at the BBC.

With a nod to Dungan's authority across a wide range of current affairs topics, the Irish Times radio critic, Harry Browne, sums up the situation. "Five-Seven Live is more a victim of its encyclopaedic format than its encyclopaedic presenter," he said.

One RTE source said Dungan, who has long associations with theatre and co-founded the Dublin Film Festival in 1985, is delighted. "When you are driving the same car for too long you are going to fall asleep at the wheel," he said. Dungan has anchored the drivetime slot in its various guises, including Today at Five and Daily Record, for the past 12 years.

Another Montrose insider thinks the decision to move Dungan to the arts arena is a good idea, given the current climate of radio wars. "The ring may have become a bit too bloody for Myles," he said.

It should be stated that RTE has refused to comment officially on his impending move. Eleanor Collier, public relations executive with RTE Radio, said yesterday that nothing had been confirmed and an announcement on the subject would not be made until mid-April. However, two senior RTE sources and those close to Dungan have been more than willing to confirm the news.

RTE is expected to be equally forthcoming (i.e. not at all) about speculation that reporter Rachel English will replace Dungan when he leaves the drivetime slot in June.

Dungan, who is 45, was born in Cavan and brought up in Kells, Co Meath, attending school at St Patrick's College, Cavan, which he despised. After graduating from UCD he began teaching English, history and geography at James Street CBS, Dublin. He left the classroom to join RTE as a continuity announcer and began making programmes in the mid-1980s with 2 FM's Late Date.

His time there has seen him concentrate more on current affairs, but a passion for golf, American football and other sports have led to him presenting these on TV. He also has a monthly current affairs TV programme, Divided World.

This is not the first time there has been speculation about his career prospects. In 1994 he was hotly tipped for a job on Prime Time which eventually went to Michael MacMillan. His pronounced lack of ambition to be among the ranks of the celebrity broadcaster meant that while virtually a household name, he was never going to emulate peers such as Pat Kenny or Joe Duffy.

"I am governed by what interests me, what I find exciting, fascinating or amusing, not by whether it's going to make me a star. I couldn't give a f . . . k, I really couldn't," he said in an interview.

Those who have worked with him in RTE praise his professionalism and Protestant-like work ethic - he converted from Catholicism to join the Church of Ireland more than a decade ago. "Let's just say I had some chastening experiences with various clerics over the years," he said once by way of explanation. He is seen as a "hands-on" broadcaster who is not afraid to muck in.

Dungan has written six books, one about the Irish in the first World War, and a number of plays for his local drama group in Dundrum with whom he is currently rehearsing a farce. He is writing a book about Irish figures in the Wild West called The Green Frontier.

He founded an American Softball team, the Marlay Martyrs, of which he said he was LVP, Least Valuable Player. He jogs each lunchtime and is a dedicated Arsenal supporter. He plays golf and, rather macabrely, has been known to point out the spot at Headfort Golf Club where his bank manager father collapsed and died of a heart attack, aged 56, while playing the fifth hole.

He is separated and has four children from his marriage to Iseult O'Doherty.

There are those who find his broadcasting style irritating. One acquaintance described him as patronising, bland and vain. "He thinks he is a media institution when he quite clearly is not," he said.

Other remarks centre on the fact that he began dyeing his hair in recent years and has been seen wearing a Nirvana T-shirt, a sartorial faux pas for anyone on the wrong side of 40, it seems.

"He tries to be hip and with-it and fails spectacularly," said one. Recently, Dungan left the staff of RTE to join the ranks of RTE's contract workers, a move as potentially risky as it can be lucrative.

When Dungan takes over, The Arts Show will change its name and be lengthened by 15 minutes to include more entertainment-based features, live reports and interviews. Dungan has already done a recce of The Arts Show office where he was recently embarrassed by one programme worker who spotted him there. "Get out of here, Myles!" they yelled across the room. "It's not until June."