Dáil Sketch/Miriam Lord:Jimmy "Knuckles" Deenihan can look after himself. Battle hardened from his years in the Kerry backline, he is a guy who can stand his ground.
So when Fine Gael had to pick a deputy to mark hard man Willie O'Dea, former footballer "Knuckles" was the obvious choice. Pound for pound, it might seem like an uneven pairing, except wee but wiry Willie is a contender who punches above his weight.
Yesterday, Tiger Willie was the talk of Leinster House. The Limerick Lip found himself embroiled in allegations that he used abusive language in a public house towards the good lady wife of a local businessman.
Furthermore, it was alleged that Willie, in colourful terms, invited the gent outside to continue the argument.
Allegations that O'Dea has strenuously rejected, accepting that some strong words were exchanged by both parties during this brief encounter, which is now being blown totally out of proportion. He says he was the one who was verbally abused.
With various accounts of what happened last Saturday night in South's pub splashed across the morning papers, the Opposition was grinning with delight. Not least because Brian "Biffo" Cowen had been in Willie's company at one stage during the evening.
Sadly, "Biffo" was off the premises when the incident happened. Probably just as well: the involvement of two ministerial bruisers would have rendered Fine Gael incoherent altogether.
Tiger Willie wasn't in the chamber for the Order of Business, when Enda Kenny - levitating with faux concern - felt he had to draw the Dáil's attention to O'Dea's Saturday night spat. Ceann Comhairle John O'Donoghue moved to rule him out of order. (Which he was.) "No, no, ah deppity Kenny, no!" wailed The Bull, to no avail. "What happened last Saturday night, or last Sunday night or last night is of no concern to this House." Not strictly true.
Deputies on all sides were agog, apart from Cowen, who stuck out his lower lip, glowered and said nothing.
Cowen, or "The Anointed One" as he is now known, is a bit of a wet blanket when he sits in the Taoiseach's seat. Some commentators say his typical demeanour describes the quiet authority of a leader in waiting. It's either that, or sullen disdain.
Kenny, meanwhile, was determined to extract the maximum embarrassment from Tiger Willie's latest predicament. Coming hard upon the Taoiseach's tribunal travails, not to mention unsubstantiated rumours of Ministers "snorting cocaine," it was like all his Christmases had come at once.
There is a ministerial code of ethics, quivered Enda, and he expected O'Dea to come before the House and put minds at rest.
"Bare knuckle fighting in this country is outlawed," declared the happily scandalised Fine Gael Leader. "We're not going to have a rerun of Rocky V1 here, deppity," chided the chair.
But Enda persisted, egged on by his chortling backbenchers.
"You're completely out of order," howled The Bull.
"Bare knuckle fighting," sighed Kenny again.
Government heckler in chief, Johnny Brady, waded in to defend Tiger Willie's honour. "You could do with a dose of blackjack," he bellowed. Nobody knew whether he was threatening Enda with a cosh, or referring to some sort of veterinary medicine.
Fine Gael's Michael Ring joined in the roaring. "No, please, no. Don't turn the place into Ballymagash," pleaded The Bull.
Tiger Willie was due in the House later in the afternoon to take defence questions. Willie swivelled a wary eye towards the gallery and heaved his drooping moustache towards his briefing notes with a heavy sigh. Knuckles Deenihan asked about doctors in the Defence Forces. Tiger Willie replied quietly. And so the afternoon proceeded, quieter than a vicar's tea party.