It would have been the perfect occasion to exit the stalls and begin the gallop to the polls but once again Bertie chose to horse around.
Saddled with the task of roping the date for the election, the posse of reporters rode out in force, hoping to round up some answers from the evasive Taoiseach. Once again there was a refusal.
"It won't be too much longer" was all he would reveal before kicking up his heels and riding off into the sunset while the media slunk back to the ranch.
But if Bertie was prolonging one waiting game, his presence at the Cherry Orchard Equine Centre signalled the end of another.
The centre, in the west Dublin suburb of Ballyfermot, is the realisation of a decade-long dream which even its long-time supporter, Mr Ahern, admitted was a bit "mad".
The €5 million centre builds on a tradition which became a problem. It now has potential to be a vibrant addition to community life.
Once its running costs are sorted out - various government departments are still trying to decide which is responsible - its 28 stables will house a mix of local and centre-owned horses and its arenas, yards and tutorial rooms will provide a unique school for local children.
Its managers steer away from words like school, classroom or teacher, however, for many of the trainees will be youngsters who have given up on formal education and would shy away from anything that might resemble their previous experiences.
As well as learning to muck out, feed, exercise and ride the horses, the trainees will acquire computer, administration and self development skills.
"A lot of these kids have huge literacy and numeracy problems so we'll be tackling those more conventional issues too, just in an unconventional setting," said the education and training manager, Therese Kingston.
Ballyfermot's only blacksmith, Noel Kershaw, was already convinced of the value of the scheme.
"Give a young fella a horse to look after and it teaches him responsibility and respect."
Local equine devotees also explained their enthusiasm. "They're grand big yokes," said Patrick Maguire (12), gazing up at a pair of withers from a vantage point south of a fetlock.
"They get you round faster," added his pal, Stephen Hawkins (11). Faster than what? "Than walking," he replied, in disbelief at the question.