There was a double floral tribute at the press conference to mark the end of Dick Spring's era as Labour leader. His wife Kristi was presented with a dozen red roses, while the men hoping to succeed tried to look like a pair of shrinking violets.
It was a heroic effort by Ruairi Quinn and Brendan Howlin, but it was in vain. Even as Mr Spring departed the stage, the battle for succession was under way around him, with the candidates bouncing from interview to interview in a media pinball machine.
When Mr Spring led his party across the road from Leinster House for the meeting at which he made his formal announcement, it was noticeable that Ruairi Quinn was close on his heels, while Mr Howlin was at least 40 lengths behind. Was this an omen? Not really, we concluded. The consensus after the first full day of campaigning was that Mr Quinn looked subdued, while his rival was exuding the well being of a cat in a dairy.
Earlier, on the Leinster House plinth, Mr Spring joked with the press corps, saying that "despite how fit and young-looking I am, the years have taken their toll". Why stop after 15 years? he was asked. "Maybe because I've played in teams of 15 a lot, so 15 had a certain ring about it," the three-times Irish rugby fullback explained.
He shouldn't have reminded us. It is one of Mr Spring's tragedies that his rugby career will always be remembered for the ball that fell through his hands for a Welsh try in 1979. His rugby supporters say it was an awkward ball and he was stretching for it, and his political supporters say he's shown a safe pair of hands ever since.
But Adi Roche's polls in the presidential campaign, with their stratospheric launch followed by the long, dizzying decline, must have reminded him of that Welsh up-and-under.
One of his last duties as leader was to attend Taoiseach's question time in the afternoon. He arrived slightly late (as he had for that Welsh ball) and apologised accordingly. But he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, and spent most of his stay in the chamber grinning at the Government benches.
Bertie Ahern spoke about the taxis issue, regretting that it arose at the same time every November. "It's as predictable as the All-Ireland final," he lamented, and Mr Spring grinned again.
There has always been a great football rivalry between their two counties, but in terms of attracting interest yesterday the Taoiseach was playing into the wind and several points down to a rampant Kerry team.
At the evening press conference an earlier resigner, Fergus Finlay, moved around the fringes looking, as he said himself, like "the ghost at the banquet". Then he lined up for photographs with Mr Spring and the other members of the back room team from Labour's heady years in government, John Rogers and Greg Sparks.
It was the end of an era, and final confirmation of the wisdom in the old rhetorical question: If Finlay goes, can Spring be far behind?
