By Bill Forry

Reading last Friday's Boston Globe story on Speaker Tom Finneran reminded me of the neighborhood punk who'd take great pleasure in setting brush fires up in Dorchester Park so he could then run up and down the street, feigning great shock at his "discovery."

"The park's on fire! The park's on fire!" he'd yell, knowing damn well that he was the one to blame.

A similar pathology was at work in the Globe's revelation of Finneran's election day showing in 2002, in which he ran unopposed as usual, but chalked up what the Globe finds to be an alarming number of "blanks" - somewhere in the ballpark of 40 percent. The "blanks," the Globe reporter and her editors inferred, is the latest sign that Finneran is disconnected from his constituency - which happens to be made up of a majority of people of color.

And while the Globe piece made a halting attempt to balance itself out with quotes from people who like and support Finneran, the underlying antagonism toward the House Speaker was unmistakable.

Most egregious was the story's omission of a leading factor in the Speaker's admittedly weak "popularity": the incessant scrutiny of the Globe, Herald and other major media in town which have, for a full decade now, had Finneran in their crosshairs for weekly, if not more frequent, criticisms. Instead, the piece compared the Speaker's election day numbers to neighboring reps like Shirley Owens-Hicks and Gloria Fox, who, relative to Tom Finneran, have operated in relative anonymity when it comes to Boston's corporate media. If they turn up once a year in a Globe story, it's a lot, whereas Finneran is the subject of almost daily scorn, and on occasion, praise.

Either way, the wear and tear of leading the House of Representatives takes its toll over the years, a phenomenon that applies not just to Finneran, but to any Senate President or House Speaker of the modern era.

UMass professor Lou DiNatale, whose comments in the Globe piece last week were used as damaging evidence that Finneran's poll numbers were "brutal," told us this week that his comments were taken out of context by the Globe reporter. In fact, DiNatale says that while a 40 percent blank for an "average" lawmaker is cause for alarm, a totally different set of rules apply for legislative leaders, especially longtime House Speakers like Finneran.

DiNatale calls the Globe's insinuation "a cheap shot."

"[Finneran's] is not a regular district and it's a leadership seat," says DiNatale. "With leadership figures, they take the negative in their district for the whole institution."

Finneran did not speak to the Globe for their story last week, but did agree to address the issue with the Reporter this week.

"The article would suggest that I'm remote, removed and relatively speaking, not held in high regard in my district," Finneran said Tuesday. "The people who know me best are pretty confident and know that I have the interests of Mattapan and Dorchester in mind, always. And when resources allow, we've done some pretty good things."

There's no question that, compared to other state reps that we cover in this part of the city, Finneran is somewhat less visible in his own district. He doesn't make it out, most of the time, to the routine community meetings in Milton, Dorchester or Mattapan. Finneran relies on his staff - traditionally competent and responsive people from the neighborhood - to act as his eyes and ears. And Finneran's niche in the community and the state's political fabric has lent to him more than just excused absences from the civic circuit. It's hard to recall the last time he walked in the Dorchester Day Parade, for instance, a must-attend event for everyone else.

Finneran, by and large, gets a pass from savvy constituents of all backgrounds - and those in neighboring districts, too - who understand that sharing their delegate with the rest of the state is part of the price of having your rep serve as House Speaker. But it's a price that can pay big dividends, something that people who enjoy a stroll on the Neponset Greenway or Pope John Paul II Park know well.

Finneran also does a lot of little things that don't "merit" the attention of the "big papers." Last month, it was Finneran who organized a special community meeting in Lower Mills to fill the void left by the dormant civic group there. Who else but the Speaker could have produced the guy who runs MassHighway to pay the piper for the long-delayed bridge project on Adams Steet? The Speaker was also the catalyst behind an emergency meeting two years ago when Stop & Shop was hovering over a cherished green space along Morton Street. Two months ago, in our sister Mattapan publication, it was Finneran featured on the cover lending his support to an community-based effort to build new office and residential space in Mattapan Square. Several times a year, Finneran communicates directly with his constituents at forums in each part of the district - and on a far more frequent basis - sends updates by mail to constituents, sometimes targeted to individual precincts, about issues of local import.

"The Globe and Herald don't get those letters," Finneran notes. (Typically, the Globe doesn't like to send their reporters out to community meetings, either, usually for fear they'll get lost, Google-maps and all.) Finneran's style of retail politics is more personal, more intimate and, frankly, not enough to compensate for the constant beat-down he takes from the press. Finneran is fully aware that his tenure as Speaker is a blessing and a curse, something that will likely deny him a chance to ever seek higher office.

"In my view, in this day and age it's absolutely impossible for legislative leaders - Senate presidents or Speakers - to jump up to the level of governor," Finneran told us in an interview published in the March issue of the Boston Irish Reporter. "It's possible for Mayor, but I don't think statewide. For better or worse, legislative leaders are not seen in a favorable light across the state."

"And that's not just a Massachusetts phenomeneon," Finneran continued. "You almost have to leave this office, do something else and then come back as a fresh-face with experience that people could still recall. It's a huge, huge leap to make."

To his credit, Finneran's not crying over his "cross" or "losing any sleep" over the editorial machinations at the Boston dailies, mostly because he understands that the erosion of his reputation is a natural by-product of his astonishing success. The suggestion that his Mattapan and Dorchester neighbors are somehow displeased with him, though, gets under his skin - which is probably why the story found its way onto the Globe's Metro section in the first place.

But, the real test of Finneran's performance in his hometown has come on election day, where for the last seven cycles, Finneran's drawn not one, solitary challenger. And that's one number that speaks louder than all the blanks put together.