One of the many things competitive plough-people are judged on is how they enter and exit the furrows - the "ins and outs", as they are known in the trade.
This was surely the main point of interest for the Taoiseach yesterday when he was given a brief introduction to the sport.
Mr Ahern faces his own job of tillage today, ploughing the flat stubble that is the current Cabinet (harvest due 2007); how he handles the ins and outs has a lot more hanging on it than the maximum 10 points awarded here.
His task has at least been simplified by Europe's longest serving agriculture minister.
Nobody remembers Joe Walsh's in - it was so long ago - but his out deserved top marks. It won more than that, in fact, because everywhere he went yesterday people were showering him with presents: like the box of fine wine from Macra na Feirme, including a Chateau Gruaud Larosse 1990.
Mr Walsh was already a vintage agriculture minister when that was bottled, although he never knew how popular he was till his last day in the job. "I've had warmer receptions down here," he recalled. "A few times they tried to light a fire under me."
Dick Roche is tipped for the in-crowd this afternoon, but he wisely opted out of the Taoiseach's entourage as it careered through the exhibitor area like a tornado.
All Irish life is condensed into the 600 stands (not to mention mobile promotions such as a man on stilts promoting prostate examinations). In terms of handshake opportunities, the streets of Ploughtown are paved with gold. Bertie didn't have enough hands to go round as he zig-zagged from one stand to another, pushing more buttons than an accordion band.
He was less enthusiastic about discussing the reshuffle, except to confirm that all decisions were already made. Pressed yet again, he objected to journalists asking about "tomorrow's story today".
But questioned about the Rev Ian Paisley's visit to Dublin tomorrow - he was only too happy to talk. "Enormously important," he called it, in an upbeat assessment of the talks.
Not only is Dr Paisley coming to Dublin, the Free Presbyterian Church is among the exhibitors here, its tiny stand offering free balloons and "ploughing special: full Bibles only €2, while stocks last". It's a small island of Protestantism in catholic-with-a- small-c neighbourhood.
A nearby stand was also promoting conversions (but only of cookers, from solid fuel to oil), while other neighbours included the sellers of "the world's best mouse-trap" and a Horse Racing Ireland quiz promotion where the following was one of the questions:
Hector O'hEochagáin to angelic nine-year-old boy: "What would you give a scoury calf?"
Angelic nine-year-old: "A boot up the hole." (This was not the correct answer, but it was close enough to win a tee-shirt.)
It's all part of the ploughing championship's rich pageant and part of the inclusive Ireland Mr Ahern is trying to build, where one day soon - but probably not today - the ins will attract more attention than the outs.