LABOUR introduced its election manifesto against a grey backdrop in the Gresham Hotel, seated at tables covered with grey table-cloths. It was the sort of habitat in which party handlers and spin-doctors could move with complete safety, blending with the background as they moved around in their unending daily search for new ears to bend.
So it was only experienced handler-watchers who saw Labour's political director, Fergus Finlay, approach the top table towards the end of yesterday's press conference and pass a note in the direction of Dick Spring.
One could almost hear David Attenborough whispering as Mr Finlay slipped back into the undergrowth. Then, some moments later, Mr Spring spoke to the floor: "I want to go back to the question of reform of the defamation laws
He referred his audience to the relevant page of the manifesto and said his party was indeed considering such reform.
Even hardened students of Machiavelli had to catch their breaths. Only minutes earlier Mr Spring had said "No" when asked if Labour had any plans to change the laws. And not a "No, but..." kind of No, or a "We're getting a committee to look at it" kind of No.
No. It was a flat "No, we haven't" No, delivered to the questioner with an in-your-face quality that seemed to say: "I know that's not what you want to hear, but I'm the Tanaiste and you're not."
To an earlier question as to whether he had given up ambitions to become Taoiseach, Mr Spring, had quipped: "I'll rotate any time". And, fair play to him, when rotation was required, he wasn't found wanting.
Mr Spring's brilliant pirouette brightened what had otherwise been a dull event. Labour's manifesto has a green section at the front, like the telephone directory. And like the telephone directory, it is a fairly bulky document (its 90-odd pages are printed on one side only, including the section on waste management).
And the Tanaiste might as well have been reading from the telephone directory yesterday. The assembled Parliamentary Labour Party - segregated from the press by "PLP" signs on the designated tables - did not manage a single burst of applause throughout their leader's delivery. Indeed, the only fizz from that quarter was provided by the Gresham's own-brand water ("sparkling spring water", honestly!) which, perhaps significantly, was bottled in Meath.
The PLP section applauded dutifully when its leader's speech came to an end, at which point - before you could say "Long live Juan Peron" - Mr Spring whipped off his jacket. This, we hoped, was the prelude to a knock-about session of question-and-answer that might finally rouse the election campaign from its lethargic start.
But aside from the dramatic U-turn on defamation, there were no real departures from the well-worn Rainbow script. Moreover, the said U-turn left a bad taste in the mouth.
