The Áras hopeful is blessed with plenty of vigour, but it didn’t transfer to the punters
“STICKERS? LEAFLETS? Pep?” This was the battle cry on the Gay Mitchell minibus yesterday morning as his yellow T-shirted army prepared to invade counties Laois and Offaly.
The youth element of his campaign is run by a peptastic young woman called Sarah O’Connor. “Come on, where is your pep?” she implored the yellow army when their reply was a tad lacklustre. “I tried ‘vim and vigour’ but they didn’t really understand it, so it’s pep for now,” O’Connor smiled.
The minibus driver, it must be said, was displaying a distinct lack of pep. He had a bad limp after after trying to defend the Mitchell bus from a gang of teenagers in a Kildare housing estate the night before.
“They were kicking the bus and I ran towards them and did something to my leg,” he said.
Some might be saying that the Fine Gael candidate's campaign is limping along but Mitchell is a man with considerable pep in his step and truckloads of vim, not to mention vigour. He flies through a Tesco as though he's auditioning for Supermarket Sweepand can press the flesh of an entire shopping centre in what seems like seconds. Flanked by his wife, Norma, along with a posse of local Fine Gael councillors and TDs including Charlie Flanagan and Marcella Corcoran Kennedy, he made short work of Tullamore, Mountmellick and Portlaoise.
This is one of the most professionally run campaigns you are going to find in this presidential election.
This is also, frankly, a bit dull.
For a start there was a lack of meaningful engagement from Mitchell with the punters, just those endless handshakes coupled with the candidate’s vote-getting mantra: “Good to see you, I’m Gay Mitchell, God Bless.” And everywhere he went the people he met could best be described as PBNC – Polite But Non-Committal. When Fine Gael TD Corcoran-Kennedy entreated people to “give Mitchell your number one now”, they smiled and said: “I’ll do my best, now” or “I’ll think about it” or “we’ll see” or “I’m not sure, now”.
Talk about a worrying deficiency of pep.
There were, of course, exceptions. In one supermarket Barbara Lalor promised she would give Mitchell her vote “if he buys me my shopping”. And in the Bridge Hotel in Tullamore a man called John Brady walked over to shake Mitchell’s hand. “Mr President,” he said to the delight of the candidate. Brady, a farmer, reckoned Mitchell was “a slow burner” candidate.
Mostly though, Laois Offaly was PBNC. This didn’t seem to bother Mitchell’s handlers or the candidate himself who, while taking a short break on a bench in yet another shopping centre, outlined the reason why the disappointing poll results don’t bother him. “If you look at the last general election 40 per cent of people made up their minds in the last week and 20 per cent in the last day,” he said. “When they are asked in polls people respond to the last name they heard in the latest controversy. Nearer the time people will look at the presidency and make their minds up but I don’t think they are fully engaged at all yet”.
Apart from a whirlwind tour of retail outlets, there were quieter moments. The first came when Mitchell visited the Offaly Centre for Independent Living and spoke to wheelchair-bound Michael Nestor, who set up the centre. Mitchell spoke of his brain-damaged eldest sister and the importance of the independent living approach. Later, at Nora’s Cake Shop in Mountmellick the candidate took a moment for a cup of tea and an apple slice. “I have a sweet tooth,” he confided.
The canvass was very much a family affair. As well as wife Norma, Mitchell was joined by two of his children Eoin (24) and Áine (27). The candidate revealed that should he be successful the Mitchells are planning a new addition to the décor in the Aras. “We’ve a grandchild due to be christened in early November so we will put up a ‘Santa Clause Stop Here’ sign,” he said.
His daughter Áine confessed that she put €50 on her Dad at 50/1 and another 50 on him when the odds went down to 33/1. “I have that much faith in my father” she said. Campaigning is second nature to the young Mitchells. “Ever since I was born I’ve had a leaflet in my hand.”
Back on the hand-shaking circuit there was only one moment that threatened to liven up a bland day on the hustings. A man approached Mitchell outside Penney’s in Laois Shopping Centre to ask him a question. “You are on telly running everyone else down. Why don’t you fight your own battles?”
“Like who? Who?” asked Mitchell. “Well, McGuinness,” said the man.
“Listen, the only issues I’ve raised is that McGuinness says he is not running for Sinn Féin and that he left the IRA in 1974,” said Mitchell.
“You are not answering the question. I am asking why don’t you just fight your own battles?” said the man.
“I did answer it, yeah,” said Mitchell, but he hadn’t, not really.
Mitchell then moved into the arms of a gaggle of shrieking teenage girls. The man with the annoying question was forgotten. Say “Gay Mitchell for President” shouted someone as the cameras clicked.
And Mitchell smiled.
