Miriam Lord: Martin escapes behind the counter to avoid ‘coalition-ology’ talk

Don't talk to Micheál Martin about polls. The man has no time for them. No time whatsoever. This isn't a new thing for the leader of Fianna Fáil. He couldn't have made himself any clearer on the way into the butcher's.

“I’ve question marks over polling” he declared emphatically. “I’m consistent in terms of polling.”

Been banging on about their general uselessness for years, apparently.

Ben the butcher was working away inside O'Flynns when the Fianna Fáil gang dropped in during their leader's walkabout in Waterford city.

Martin went behind the counter immediately, because this is what politicians do during elections. If anyone else tried this, the guards would be called.

They take liberties, insinuating themselves behind the glass display cabinets so they can have their photographs taken with stuff, in this case a mountain of chicken thighs.

He didn’t talk about polls, which is what the media wanted to know about and what he spoke about at length on local radio earlier in the day.

Ben was deboning the thighs on his wooden block. “Doing the chicken, are you?” asked the leader of the Opposition, who firmly believes Fianna Fáil will become the majority government party after the election.

“Ah yeah, doing the chicken,” replied Ben, working away with the knife.

“I think I was here last year,” said Martin, perusing the back rashers. It was a deeply incisive encounter. But only for the chicken.

Martin said the same to Richard Kiely down the way in the shoe repair shop. "I think I was here last year."

Perhaps they renamed the premises in anticipation of a second visit. The sign over the door said “Cobblers 2”.

“I could do with a few soles,” quipped the leader. Bet you say that to all the cobblers, Micheál.

Good news to chew on

But back to the polls. Martin arrived in Waterford yesterday morning with some good news to chew on. The latest Irish Times/Ipsos MRBI poll should have pleased him, if he didn't have such utter disdain for the practice. His party went up two points while Fine Gael and Sinn Féin slipped two points, with Labour stuck at 7 per ecnt.

If that movement continues, Fianna Fáil, ripped to shreds by the voters in 2011, might find itself within tipping distance of the main Coalition party. But Martin wasn’t bothered.

There is “a rush to commentary based on the polls” and he’s having none of it. They have no credibility. Didn’t the BBC apologise to Britain “for talking too much coalition-ology” and not debating the issues?

As far as he is concerned, the people need a choice and must be allowed to make their own decision.

“I think there’s far too much talk of coalition-ology in all of this.”

Going on the figures, a grand coalition between Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael would seem a sensible option. So what about allowing the voters make their decision, but an informed one?

Martin resolutely refused to entertain that proposition, preferring waffle-ology about coalition-ology where “the whole thing is being framed by the commentators and the polling”. Give up yer aul’ polls, he sez.

“The doorstop is the most important barometer for us,” he explained. Where, who’d have thunk it, “the feedback is positive”. Rather like yesterday morning’s figures, which do not interest him in the least. Fair enough, Micheál, we won’t mention the subject again . . .

On the doors in Chestnut Park, Paul Breen and his wife, Margo, were delighted to meet him. "The smoking ban was the best thing you ever did" said Paul. "It's the best thing that any politician has ever done here."

Margo agreed. “I think he’s an honourable man” she said.

“Only for that rascal Bertie, you would have been leader of the party,” added her husband.

Smile

The Fianna Fáil leader left with a smile on his face. So will they vote for his party? As it turns out, they are going abroad to visit the grandchildren, so won’t be voting. Bad luck for Martin, or maybe not. The couple gave their verdict.

“I think we would have voted to keep the old status quo,” admitted Paul.

“The Government inherited a very bad situation but said they would start turning things around in 2015 or 2016. I think they should be given the chance,” Margo concluded.

The canvass took to the main shopping area. The Fianna Fáil candidate, Mary Butler, works in John Martin's Jewellers in the city and she introduced her leader around the shops, much to the embarrassment of the assistants.

He landed twice at cosmetic counters. The assistants, faced with this smiling man spouting banalities, struggled for things to say.

“Good to see you out anyway,” said one. Martin darted into a cafe and went straight behind the counter.

“Any apple tarts?” Then he picked up a bowl of tomatoes. “Anyone for tomatoes? The healthy option?” He left with a searing parting shot. “Any rhubarb tarts?”

There was a brief frisson when the walkabout bumped into former Fianna Fáil minister, Martin Cullen, who now lives in Florida but is home to visit his parents. Martin got a terrible fright when the media posse descended.

The former colleagues shook hands and he wished Micheál all the best. But he wouldn’t give an opinion on the prospect of a Grand Coalition.“Jesus, I nearly died when I saw you arriving. I don’t want to say anything at all.”

However, he thinks that if the Fianna Fáil vote holds up in Waterford, Butler, who is a councillor in the rural Comeragh region, stands a good chance. “She has a leg in the city and the family is well known.”

As walkabouts go, Micheál Martin got a polite welcome, although he was moving so fast there wasn’t much chance of anyone causing a scene.

The mood was far different from what he experienced in 2011, when the public wanted to lynch anyone connected with Fianna Fáil.

Before he left, he kindly inquired if we wanted to ask anything else.

Will he be spending more time in Dublin, where the detailed polling figures indicate the party is at a worrying 11 per cent? Not so worrying, mused the leader, because the quality of their candidates is very good.

And then this: “We’ve done our own polling in Dublin...” Our eyes briefly met. I knew, he knew. Without missing a beat, he kept on talking.

“Well, obviously we don’t take any heed of polling. And, and rightly so.” Indeed.