Tribunal sketch: The man for whom modern tribunals were invented was back in Dublin Castle yesterday and at times it seemed as though nothing had changed since the beef tribunal, writes Paul Cullen.
Still slim and spry, Larry Goodman hardly seems to have aged since we saw him all those years ago being doorstepped in that World in Action television programme about his business practices.
There were plenty of familiar flashbacks to the earlier inquiry yesterday, as we heard about his extensive cattle dealings in the Middle East and his sometimes dyspepsia-inducing product line, not least "edible and non-edible bovine blood products".
But there the similarities end. At the beef tribunal, Mr Goodman was on the rack, while his business empire was on the verge of collapse. Back in the 1990s, Liam Lawlor was an ambitious Fianna Fáil politician with hopes for a seat in Cabinet.
Today, however, the wheel has turned full circle. Mr Goodman's business fortunes are restored, while Mr Lawlor's reputation is in tatters.
It seemed appropriate therefore that, before the beef tycoon began his evidence yesterday, Mr Lawlor staged another walkout after announcing his intention to launch yet another legal challenge to the tribunal.
On this occasion, the businessman comes to a tribunal as the whistle-blower rather than the main focus of investigation.
It was Mr Goodman who first revealed the former TD's involvement in the Coolamber land deal now under investigation by the inquiry
and who provided it with extensive documentation on the deal.
He still got a grilling about the £3,500 a month he was paying Mr Lawlor in the late 1980s, coincidentally the same amount the politician was picking up from developer Mr Tom Gilmartin at this time. These were "commercial contributions, not political contributions", the Louth man explained testily.
His body language might not have shown it, but Mr Goodman's treatment at the hands of Mr Lawlor clearly rankles.
Having stumped up the money to buy the land and paid the interest on the resulting bank loan, he was left out of a share of the lolly when the property was rezoned and sold for massive profit. Not only that, but he remains saddled to this day with debts of £157,000 from the deal.
Not much, perhaps, when you were taking in £20 million a week - yes, a week - back in the 1980s, but Mr Goodman didn't get to be one of Ireland's biggest businessmen by being soft.