Shay's running for the Dáil, Aoife the locals, and Eanna like a man possessed

ON THE CANVASS with SHAY BRENNAN:Canvassing is a family affair for the Brennans, down to the use of the late Séamus's blueprint

BRENNAN’S BRED: tomorrow’s dynasty, today.

Shay Brennan is running for the Dáil, Aoife Brennan is running for the local council and Eanna Brennan is running around like a man possessed.

Not long now to election day. Fifty per cent of the constituency covered, and miles of doors before they sleep.

“It’s 24/7,” says Shay. Just as well, so.

If they knew we were coming, they’d have baked a cake. Or perhaps not, although don’t be too sure the idea didn’t cross their minds.

Shay Brennan’s byelection campaign is being run according to a very particular blueprint – the one used by his late father’s legendary political machine. Nothing is left to chance.

One gets the impression that the candidate for Dublin South is being “minded”. A rather late entrant into the race after a few false dawns, he’s had a difficult opening few weeks. A couple of horrendous television appearances didn’t do much to help his cause.

Minister of State Conor Lenihan is his director of elections. He rings yesterday morning, having heard The Irish Times is coming along on the canvass. He helpfully supplies a few facts and figures and a super-optimistic outlook on young Shay’s chances.

This is a bit like the preliminaries in Croke Park before a match, but without the effin’ and the blindin’ and the bruises. You know the way a forward might be standing on the 13-metre line, trying to get focused, only for a defender to race over and deliver a friendly shoulder charge, just to announce his presence?

Conor does that.

Here’s the big thing, says Lenihan the Younger: Shay Brennan is conducting a “registered canvass”. His late father Séamus specialised in doing this, and was probably the only politician in Dublin city who conducted his campaigns this way.

It involves going from house to house with a copy of the electoral register, marking off the names of people encountered and whether they fall into the category of For, Against or Get the Hell Away From Here Before I Set the Dog on Ya. Other distinguishing features are noted. The lists are kept for future reference.

Conor is confident his candidate will “crash through” the barrier and get the votes he needs. He dismisses the “early celebrity hype” around Fine Gael’s George Lee.

In the heel of the hunt, it’ll be a straight fight between Lee and Brennan, says Conor. And transfers will come into play, because the Brennan name is worth something in Dublin South, and will attract them.

Oh, and by the way isn’t Shay the image of his father? And yes, he is. As Aoife, who is standing for the council, is the image of her mother. Eanna, the youngest of the six Brennan children and the third sibling on yesterday’s canvass, escapes scrutiny, as he isn’t running. Yet. Séamus and Ann Brennan didn’t have a family, they had a quorum.

The Brennans are joined by local deputy and senior man in the constituency Tom Kitt. A PR man is in tow, but he stays off the doorsteps.

The sun comes out and it’s a most, most pleasant canvass. Everyone knows Shay (the image of his father) and most pledge them their number one. We are on Hollywood Drive in Goatstown, which is a very nice road with very solid family houses with big gardens.

“Do you recognise the place?” says one man to Shay.

“I was here before she was born,” declares a woman to Tom, indicating Aoife Brennan.

“A neighbour’s child,” smiles another householder, taking the literature.

The group come to a lovely house. It has leaded glass and looks swankier than the rest. Shay tells the young lad at the door: “You got a new bathroom.” Next door, Joy and Alan greet him warmly. “Hello Valerie!” Shay shouts into the hall, declining to come in for a cup of tea.

As it turns out, Joy and Alan used to be Shay’s next-door neighbours. He grew up in the house with the new bathroom. We’re not sure if the leaded glass was a pre- or post-Brennan addition. But we are pretty sure that a trip down the street where he lived may not present the most realistic picture of Fianna Fáil’s standing in the constituency.

Eanna Brennan is operating the register. He stands on the road with a clipboard, barking orders like a drill sergeant. Canvassers hurtle in and out of gates. “Pull him out if he’s taking too long,” he instructs a party worker, indicating the candidate is not moving fast enough.

Tom Kitt barrels out from around a hedge. “Tom, was it good in there?” “Yes, solid” reports Kitt, rounding a pillar into another driveway.

Eanna writes something on the clipboard. “Keep on moving, there!” Shay (35) talks a lot about covering ground. He talks a lot about the need for energy and youth in politics. In fact, listen to him for any length of time and you’ll be left wondering if there is anyone in Leinster House bar the infirm and the doddery.

Honor Stuart was very courteous, but firm. “I’ll vote for whom I think will be best, but it won’t be one of the lot who are here now.” Shay says he wants to give her some background. “I’ve been around a lot of years,” she laughs, “I know a lot of background.” Then she looks at Gerry Horkan, a local election candidate who is accompanying Shay. “You’re the fellow who looks like George Lee on your leaflet.” Gerry Horkan bridles. “I was here first. I don’t look like George Lee.” Shay tries to calm the situation. “You must be thinking of Eddie Hobbs.” Gerry doesn’t look happy.

Honor gives them back the leaflets. Doesn’t need them. And she fishes out a sheaf of election literature from behind the door. They have to be binned too.

“One of them is from the Greens,” says Gerry, shrinking back.

The lads leave. Tom Kitt’s laughter rings out from farther down the road. He could schmooze for Ireland.

Honor, meanwhile, tells us she has her mind made up. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, and I want a change.” She says she is 92. “There’s a lot of us around. I was at two birthday parties last year.” She looks at the canvassers. “They’ll be wondering what we’re talking about,” she giggles.

Back on the pavement, one of them asks, in the interests of keeping the register, what we were talking about. “You wouldn’t want to know.” It’s all too cosy. Another lady looked approvingly on Shay and told him: “My mother said: ‘Never vote for anyone but de Valera’ and we’ve continued it on.” That’s a lot of spoiled votes.

Shay says he can cause an upset when the votes are counted on June 6th. He plays down the George Lee factor, instead talking about his workrate, and how you need a lot of energy “to do something like this”. Tom Kitt languidly glad hands the passers-by. In terms of dealing with public, the two are poles apart.

And that’s the problem. Shay Brennan, there is nothing bad you can say about him. But he’s not his Da.

One can’t doubt his determination to succeed in this election, but one might question why? Maybe it goes back to that Brennan Register. There is almost a manic approach among the siblings to doing things the Séamus Brennan way, as if they have something to prove.

Is there a Shay Brennan way? Don’t know the answer to that one. But he’s the image of his father.