Scrappy Noonan reels back the years

Lise Hand

Michael Noonan regarded the Sinn Fein deputy across the chamber with the sort of expression a peckish lion might sport while eyeing an antelope dandering innocently along the plains of the Serengeti.

And then he sank his teeth into Padraig MacLochlainn with visible gusto. Suddenly it was as if the years had disappeared - and for any witnesses of a vintage to recall the olden days when an Apple was no more than a roundy fruit which turned up in lunch-boxes and still-life paintings, it was an immediate jaunt down memory lane.

For Michael Noonan had rediscovered his Inner Scrap Saturday.

Unimpressed with being harangued by Padraig, who was demanding that the government cease and desist forthwith from implementing water charges now that money is once again growing on the trees in the leafy groves of Government Buildings, he conjured up a colourful metaphor with a well-practised flourish. One could almost imagine that he had rehearsed it into a mirror beforehand, as might a young fella try out chords on his air guitar.

"Your party has opposed every measure," he told the Donegal TD who was standing in for Gerry Adams (who's hanging out with the Clintons in New York) during Leaders' Questions.

As far as Michael was concerned, Sinn Fein are a bunch of refuseniks who have far too many red line issues for their own good.

"First you wanted to abolish property tax, now you're going to abolish water charges and these are red line issues," he pointed out, adding, "no-one is rushing to join you in government."

He was only warming up. Instead of 'Scrap Saturday', it was Scrap Shinner.

"So putting down a red line issue is like the auld fella walking up and down the boundaries of the Ballroom of Romance, saying he won't dance with any of those women over there - nobody wants to dance with you," he declared.

Roars of mirth rose from the backbenchers behind him. Even the opposition - including Padraig - laughed despite themselves at this vintage bit of folksy assassination.

It was a metaphor which could've been lifted straight from a script of the legendary radio satire which once had the plain people of Ireland literally rolling around their beds laughing on a Saturday morning - a show in which Michael Noonan was endlessly lampooned by Dermot Morgan.

But now the lion was up on his four paws and padding

after the unfortunate antelope. Michael wanted to know how Sinn Fein intended to construct a Budget without either water charges or property taxes. "Who are you going to nail? Who? The Rich? Who are the Rich? It's difficult enough to construct budgets when you begin by moving back in €800m before you start," he informed Padraig.

The Sinn Fein deputy protested that the Finance Minister was "making light of the stress of so many families", pointing out that the party has each year submitted "detailed and costed" Budget proposals to his Department. But Michael chose to snack on those proposals too.

"I think the House appreciates that I'm making light of Sinn Fein's pretend economics," he shot back. According to Michael's summation, "You decided that 85pc of the corrections in the finances of this country should be made by way of tax increases," he said, before unleashing a last mauling.

"If you want to be a serious force in this parliament, will you at least get background people who can understand economics and who can add," he concluded with relish.

He was enjoying himself - of course it helped that he wasn't facing the Dail's femme formidable, Mary Lou McDonald who usually takes Leaders in the absence of her party leader and who would've been far more tricky to take lumps out of than the relatively inexperienced and laid back Padraig MacLochlainn.

But an outbreak of giddiness from the Finance Minister was perhaps inevitable, given the unexpected arrival of excellent economic news last week. Then, Michael had been a model of restraint while announcing the Baldy Bounce - the Lazarus-like revival of the figures - just as he has been for three and a half years of proceeding through the smoking wreckage of the economy like a stately Buck Mulligan, exuding a Zen-like serenity in the face of ongoing carnage.

And so he had a bit of a roar - not a Celtic Tiger roar, of course. That would be most unwise, with austerity still biting hard on many households, and a Budget only three weeks away.