Normally when the FAI books a hotel room in Dublin guarantees must be given about the subsequent mopping up of blood and the brisk disposal of bodies. Yesterday's coronation of Brian Kerr was a happy departure then. The new Irish manager filled a large-mirrored room in the Shelbourne with media and admirers, and for once there wasn't a whiff of cordite.
How long has it been since the FAI hosted a happy occasion such as this? Journalists didn't have to be frisked for weapons at the door. FAI officials emerged like jaded soldiers from the trenches on Christmas Day. Briefly they even turned their backs on one another as they mingled, confident that no bayonet would lance their shoulders. The acrid perfume of paranoia couldn't be detected anywhere. And Brian Kerr filled the afternoon with humility and laughter and hope for the football future.
The first thing that struck was the familiarity. Brian Kerr knows his flock. His flock know him. This was almost a family occasion. Kerr answered just about every question by prefacing it with the name of the journalist who asked it.
More than that, he avoids the tricky ones with his customary skill. He's like Roadrunner dodging falling rocks.
Roy Keane was high on the agenda.
"Brian, can we mention the unmentionable?"
"The unmentionable? You have me there, Peter. That's not News of the World talk."
"It's been said that your weakness is that you have never played in the top divisions."
"Well, I don't think the FAI has hired me as a player. They've hired me as a manager. I've been managing and coaching for more years than I care to remember. Is that from some ad?"
Kerr is already ahead of the game. On Friday he will announce his first squad. Soon he will meet with Roy Keane and discuss little of what's behind, lots of what's ahead.
We filed out of the Shelbourne hoping that, for his sake, Roy doesn't look a gift horse from Drimnagh in the mouth. One press conference down. Hundreds to go. Everybody in tune already.