First sign of autumn as Browne turns red all over again

You knew the Dáil was back in session as soon as you saw Vincent Browne’s new haircut; like a wild bush that had been taken in hand by a tree surgeon, the great man’s bonce was visible and shining once again for the difficult months ahead.

Tonight With Vincent Browne is addictive for many reasons and one of those is the state of Vincenzo’s hair. There are nights when it looks like he walked to work through a wind tunnel – and when you hear his sighing and inhalations, you think he might not be fully recovered from the impact of the effort.

But of course the hair is just a sideshow, when the real attraction is Browne’s ability to goad guests into losing the rag and saying things they never intended.

His Friday night show – lighter, pre-recorded and stilted – is gone and rightly so, because Vincent isn’t Tubridy and he has no time for celebrity banter; he wants politicians to fire insults at, and anything else is a distraction.

You only fully appreciate the quality of Browne’s harassment when his summer fill-ins attempt the same technique, and it’s rather like a breeze pretending it’s a hurricane.

Declan Ganley wasn’t bad during his stint although he appeared to forget that he was presenting rather than debating; that said, you don’t hire the Libertas man because he hides his light under a bushel.

Sam Smyth always looks like he too came to work on a bicycle, because dishevelled is a look he captures effortlessly – and while Browne can trip over his openings as he stares menacingly at the auto-cue, Sammy looks like he brought in the wrong glasses and can only vaguely make out words rolling upwards in the distance in front of him.

But they are all pale imitations of the real thing who lures his unsuspecting guests into a false sense of security by mumbling his introduction – and then launching himself like a leopard at the first one he gets into his sights.

For more, read this week's Connacht Sentiinel.