Lord's word

As Miriam Lord moves from the Irish Independent to the Irish Times, here's a sample of what Irish Times readers can expect and Indo readers will be missing

On the Young Scientist of the Year award, 14 January 2006

Aisling Judge (14) from Cork covered her face with her hands and screamed and screamed. There was no holding back. She set off on a lap of honour around the auditorium...

"Oh My God!" shouted Aisling. Except she pronounced it the way all teenage girls do: "Omigod! Omigod! Omigod!" she screamed, as her classmates stamped their feet and roared...

So what is it like to be crowned Young Scientist of the Year? Interviews began immediately onstage. "Unreal. I didn't really expect it. Omigod! I can't describe it. Omigod! This is brilliant."

And what went through her mind the moment her name was called out? "I thought, I think I won. Omigod!"

On the tractor protest in Dublin, 11 January 2003

I had my first ride in a Lamborghini yesterday.

A case of fatal a-tractor. More bang for your buck than Funderland too – if a bit bumpy.

Actually, Reverend Mother, that isn't true. It was only a Zetor. Do I have to get engaged to the IFA immediately?

Typical. You wait decades for a tractor to arrive in Dublin, and then 300 of them turn up at once...

By 1.30pm, it was time to move off again. "Return immediately to your tractors!" roared one of the organisers, the incongruity of the order causing a passing group of Dublin schoolboys to crease themselves laughing.

On the launch of the Ansbacher Report, 8 July 2002

Following a frantic gallop to pick up the 500-page volume containing the main report, there was a tense silence as people scoured the pages looking for what everyone wanted. Names. Big names. Lots of them.

Like schoolboys searching for the dirty pictures, the breathless hacks thumbed feverishly through the report, eyes darting down lines and across columns. Realisation dawned quickly. There were no fireworks. The dog cocked his leg on the box of fireworks. In headline terms, it was a damp squib.

No surprise, but still a disappointment. People began breaking the tragic news to the people back at base. "What? No lawyers? No politicians? No celebrities? Nobody? This is an outrage!"

On Ireland's exit from the World Cup,

17 June 2002

And when the dust settled in Suwon, they were the last men standing. Our World Cup heroes. Bring them home. We want to hug them...

Suddenly, through the stillness of a beautiful South Korean night, thousands of voices, thick with emotion, surrendered to the moment. It started quietly, then built to a deafening chorus, suffused with gratitude and pride, spine tingling in its passion. "Walk on, walk on, with hope in your heart ... And you'll never walk alone ... YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE..."

Even the Koreans were crying...

Oh, this was just too much. Mark Kinsella, singing 'You'll Never Walk Alone' as he wandered around the goalmouth, tears streaming down his face. Little Damien Duff as somebody said, you'd want to put him up on your mantelpiece and dust him confirmed now as one of the best wingers in the world...

They have been a credit to Ireland, and we will be proud and happy to see them return.

Sayonara Japan. Annyeonghigyeseyo, South Korea. Welcome home, lads.

On the rejection of the Nice Treaty, 9 June 2001

Nice takes the biscuit... and it serves the politicians right. The electorate gave them a well deserved poke in the eye, and sent out a clear message that they should never be taken for granted.

And anyway, Denmark once did the unthinkable and voted against the Maastricht Treaty, and they went on to win the Eurovision Song Contest...

In reality, it's all Fine Gael's fault. The referendum was lost as soon as their latest line in ludicrous posters went up on the lamp posts. In a blatant attempt to get their candidates' names before the public in the run up to a general election, the voters were treated to an assortment of deadbeat councillors and dull TDs grinning down from lampposts with the message Cllr Hepatica Deadbeat says Yes!"

Madam Kennedy poaches first lady of Abbey Street

Miriam Lord has been writing for the Irish Independent since 1985. She is best known for her colour writing on politics and observations on significant and mundane events. She trained in journalism at Rathmines DIT, but dropped out of the course when offered a job as a reporter with the Drogheda Independent. There she worked as a district reporter. From there she moved to the Independent. There is no starting date for her position at the Irish Times yet, although it will most likely be mid-June.

She is popular amongst colleagues and politicians, who were often keen to befriend her and make it into her political colour pieces. As a result of her political coverage over the years she has built up friendships with them. When her dog died a couple of years ago Michael McDowell sent a note of sympathy – he had met the dog when she was covering the election a few years previously.

She says that the Irish Times offer came at the right time, mid-career: she was worried about becoming "institutionalised" after 21 years at the paper. She has been referred to as the First Lady of Abbey Street, because of her long association with the paper. The change in editorship with the arrival of Gerry O'Regan last October is also a likely factor. Many staff were unhappy with the new set-up and left.

Miriam grew up in the North Strand area of Dublin, and now lives in Clontarf. She is not married and does not have any children. She shies from television or radio appearances as she has "no interest". "It brings me out in a rash. And I don't see why to be a good journalist you have to go on radio or television."

Emma Browne