Bertie's bleedin' ear sets tongues wagging

Dáil Sketch/Miriam Lord: Crime is out of control. Yesterday in Drumcondra, Bertie's ear was nicked.

Dáil Sketch/Miriam Lord:Crime is out of control. Yesterday in Drumcondra, Bertie's ear was nicked.

Nobody knows who did it, but a Government spokesperson rushed to assure worried political correspondents in Leinster House that the Taoiseach did not require any medical treatment.

Early in the afternoon, while Bertie took questions, he seemed to be experiencing a certain degree of discomfort. With a pained expression on his face, he attempted to address the issues before him. He sat wearily with his head to one side, hand caressing his ear. Chief whip Tom Kitt leaned forward and handed him some tissues.

The Taoiseach looked very sorry for himself with his droopy lower lip, big sad eyes and hankie pressed to his bad ear, like he wished he was somewhere else.

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For earache is a terrible thing.

Of course, it's an occupational hazard in Leinster House. Observers felt pangs of sympathy for the Taoiseach in his hour of misery, but not for long. After all, he's been inflicting earache for years on misfortunates who have to listen to him in the chamber.

Word arrived from the far end of the gallery that Bertie's ear was bleeding. He seemed deeply unhappy. Some thought it unlikely he would reappear to take Leaders' Questions.

But he did, for Bertie is a trooper. What do yis want? Blood? No better man.

It was difficult to concentrate on the important matters of the afternoon - the under-funding of sexual assault units, the Stormont Assembly, traffic gridlock, backbencher Billy Kelleher's black pin-striped velvet suit - without the mind wandering to Bertie's bleedin' ear and what was wrong with it.

There were two obvious explanations for the Taoiseach's condition: Minister for the Environment Dick Roche prattling at him about the electoral register; Minister for Finance Brian Cowen bellowing at him for hinting that stamp duty rates might come down in the Budget. However, prolonged exposure to Messrs Roche and Cowen at full blast would have precipitated a nosebleed as well, so that ruled them out.

Bertie could have been involved in a fight. Someone may have given him a box on the ear. However, as his contribution yesterday underlined, the Taoiseach is not one for starting fights. He's more a consensus man and doesn't believe in taking sides.

Like in Northern Ireland, where the difficult political situation "is always pull and tuck". He didn't argue with Labour's Pat Rabbitte when he said the approach by the two governments has been "characterised by constant slippage". Sure, agreed Bertie, it would have been much better if a first minister and deputy first minister had been nominated at Stormont last week.

But what to do? Bring down the whole house of cards? "I'd love it to be perfect - deputy Rabbitte's analysis is fair enough - in that it's not all perfect . . . Not perfect, but . . ." sighed the Taoiseach. Pat Rabbitte couldn't supply him with the answer either. Bertie, sore ear or not, knew it.

Meanwhile, concern was mounting about his ailment. Inquiries were made at the highest level. By late evening a Government spokesperson allayed mounting fears that the Taoiseach had an ear infection. "His ear was nicked" came the official line, although some were very reluctant to accept it, given the meal he made of it earlier on.

A shaving incident, so. Or maybe not. Informed sources, not too far away from a groundless rumour, were speculating that Bertie may have been the victim of a botched ear-piercing operation, in a pre-election stunt to get in with the young people.

We still have our suspicions about his bleedin' ear. Was it mere coincidence that one of the Bills debated at length last night was The Noise Bill 2006?