The new and 13th Northern Secretary, Dr John Reid, triggered inevitable recollection of the very ancient gag about the spectator at an Old Firm game. Celtic score and he cheers, earning knowing nods from the Rangers crowd about which foot he digs with.
A few minutes later Rangers equalise, and he again applauds. Much confusion in the Celtic and Rangers supporters' camps until one highbrow figures it out. "He must be an atheist," he says.
Dr Reid, the first Catholic to be appointed Northern Secretary, is a founder of the Westminster Celtic supporters' club. But Dr Reid is also described by those who know him well as a "staunch unionist" who is a firm supporter of the British army, and who served in the Ministry of Defence.
On television and radio and on the streets yesterday, people, as they do, were trying to compartmentalise Dr Reid, although the unusual mix, for Northern Ireland, of his being a unionist, a Catholic, and a Celtic fan caused confusion.
As a Scot Dr Reid is well aware of the sectarian sensitivities here. But on his first visit as Northern Secretary to Belfast yesterday he sought to portray himself as objective and as fairminded as the neutral on the Glasgow football terraces.
Of his Catholicism he would only say: "We all have our own private beliefs." Of how his football leanings might be received here, he joked that he would take advice from Security Minister Adam Ingram, another Scot and a Rangers supporter.
"I bring one belief to this job," asserted Dr Reid, "and that is I believe that the people of Northern Ireland, from every tradition, from every background, whatever their religious affiliation, overwhelmingly desire a peaceful, prosperous future for the community here. And that is my belief."
One section of the populace, however, won't have been happy with his equally ringing declaration in favour of the Belfast Agreement. Like Peter Mandelson and Mo Mowlam before him, he affirmed his "utter commitment" to the Agreement.
The Yes parties, whether unionist, nationalist or republican, are providing him with a fair wind, and even No politicians generally are remaining calm until they get a better measure of him.
So far so good. But how and when is the good doctor going to effect the breakthrough necessary to safeguard the Belfast Agreement? Certainly not by the weekend, as Dr Reid reads his way into his brief.
He spoke to the RUC Chief Constable, Sir Ronnie Flanagan; British Army GOC Alistair Irwin, and senior officials at Stormont yesterday, and today may hold informal discussions with party leaders. "I am modest enough to know how much I do not know, and the first part of my task is to listen and learn," he told reporters.
First (and brief) impressions indicate he is up to the task. He had his first encounter with the Belfast-based media at Castle Buildings, Stormont, yesterday afternoon. He took few questions but did so with a sure, good-humoured and easy manner. His style is more relaxed and down-to-earth than that of Mr Mandelson, who has had to clear his desk and exit his home at Hillsborough Castle.
The cruel nature of politics was also illustrated yesterday by the fact that queries to the Northern Ireland Office about Mr Mandelson's movements earned the effective, terse reply: "He doesn't work here anymore."
Dr Reid, a widower with two sons, is 53, and, it must be said, looks older. He's small but compact and acquaintances of his in Westminster and Scotland say he is "astute, combative, and a bit of a bruiser". Indeed, he has the shape of a man who would go several rounds with Martin McGuinness or Ken Maginnis or Seamus Mallon.
Over the weekend he will plan his campaign, while Monday is targeted as the day when the difficult business starts in earnest of persuading Sinn Fein, and, by extension, the IRA, the SDLP and Ulster Unionists, to forge a settlement.