KEY POINTS:
At least Winston Peters had the modesty - or well-tuned fear of ridicule - not to carve the initials of his hero on some public tree trunk.
His nod to Winston Spencer Churchill was, until recently, discreetly hidden from view in the title of his secret trust.
But poor old John Key just blurts the names of his idol out to all comers. Which, depending on your leanings, is either aw shucks endearing, or plain cringe making.
"I'm a bit like Obama," he tells London's weighty broadsheet, the Financial Times. The comparison, seemingly, built on the fact that "I am not institutionalised in Wellington".
Whatever he might have meant by that, it comes across as underlining the reporter's introductory observation that if the National leader wins the upcoming election he "will become the most inexperienced politician to lead New Zealand in more than 100 years".
If he slicked back his hair, donned bell-bottoms and turned down the lights, he might also get into the semifinals of an Elvis lookalike contest, which could pull him a few votes in Gore, at least, but most voters, when choosing a leader, surely prefer the genuine item to the bad imitation.
This isn't the first time the comparison between Mr Key and the US presidential hopeful has been made. In February, United Future leader Peter Dunne said that "Hillary Clinton oozes policy and experience ... and you could say she is like Helen Clark. John Key is fresh and relatively unknown, and doesn't that sound like Barack Obama?"
At the time, even National Party adviser David Farrar couldn't resist having sport with the comparison. Both, he quipped, had a parent born in another country. Both had lived in New York. Both have two children, and "both were helped to power by a Michelle - Michelle Obama and Michelle Boag".
But the potential for leaving oneself open to mockery was lost on Mr Key. Less than a month later he trotted out a fan list of the three people he most wanted to meet in an interview in Victoria University student newspaper Salient.
"That's a good question. Who are three people I would like to meet? I would quite like to meet Tony Blair. These days, Barack Obama, just because I see lots of him in there." Just where "there" is, is not explained.
He has difficulty coming up with a third name. "There must be someone else good out there I would like to meet who I haven't already met ... yeah, a movie star - I don't know, Tom Cruise. I don't want to talk about Scientology though ... "
Earlier, when asked of his ambitions as a young man, he said "I wanted to be Prime Minister. Why? I think it's a revered position in the community, a position of influence ... "
Moving quickly on, in April, Timaru's Courier asked who his political hero was, the politician he particularly admired, either living or dead. "I quite like Bill Clinton. He has aspects obviously that you could argue against" - not having sex with that woman, perhaps? - "but he did a lot in the US. He was a real rags to riches story ... "
Asked what he would like to do if he couldn't be a politician or money trader, he plumped for airline pilot - "that would be quite cool", while also admitting "some fascination with being a butcher". Ah yes, haven't we all had those sort of impulses from time to time.
Now if he'd said he wanted to be like Barack Obama because the lucky bastard had raised in excess of $488 million in campaign contributions, I could understand that. But the name-dropping makes him sound like he's the fan in the ticket queue, rather than an aspirant for the star turn.
Of all the obvious differences between Mr Obama and Mr Key, the one that stands out is the vision thing. The American leader has a dream and a programme of action to achieve it. Mr Key, on the other hand, tells the London paper, "I had 18 years in the commercial world and I will be quite pragmatic." What a dispiriting call to arms that is.
Earlier this year, commentator Finlay Macdonald, in a lecture at Otago University, facetiously suggested that if Mr Obama's memoirs were called The Audacity of Hope, Mr Key's should be The Audacity of Hype. He painted a man for all audiences. One example, religion.
To the student readers of Salient, for example, he declared himself "not deeply religious" and not a believer in life after death.
Then he sat down with the reactionary, born-again Investigate magazine editor, and declared: "I have lived my life by Christian principles." Then it was a quick hop step and jump to the Jewish Chronicle to declare: "I will be the third Jewish Prime Minister in New Zealand."
With election day looming, will we ever get a glimpse of the real John or Tony or Barack or Tom or Butcher Key?
