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TWO ELECTIONS, MANY STRATEGIES | THE CITY

‘Floon’ tag team shakes up traditional mayoral battle

Michael Flaherty greeted Boris Napier (left) as he and Sam Yoon campaigned at the home of Terrance Williams (right). Michael Flaherty greeted Boris Napier (left) as he and Sam Yoon campaigned at the home of Terrance Williams (right). (Yoon S. Byun/ Globe Staff)
By Michael Levenson
Globe Staff / October 13, 2009

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They text each other in the morning to coordinate their outfits. They campaign together, side by side, working the same banquet tables, parade routes, and ward committee meetings. They have even crooned a duet together, a song called “Flaherty and Deputy,’’ sung to the tune of “Ebony and Ivory.’’

Two weeks after forging an unusual alliance in an effort to oust Mayor Thomas M. Menino, Councilors at Large Michael F. Flaherty Jr. and Sam Yoon are doing their best to merge their distinct political identities into one campaign for change. They spend every day together, sharing staff, donor lists, and meals on the go.

“We have gay marriage here in Boston, and we also have a great political marriage here,’’ Flaherty said last week during an interview on Boston Neighborhood Network Television. Flaherty brought Yoon with him to the interview, as he does at most public appearances now.

The unlikely duo, part marriage of convenience and part buddies-storming-the-castle adventure, have transformed the Boston mayoral race. The strategy has also dramatically changed the relationship between two ambitious politicians who were often at odds, not only in the campaign, but also on the City Council.

“I don’t think in a million years anybody could have predicted what they did,’’ said Councilor John M. Tobin Jr., who has served alongside Flaherty and Yoon. “I’m not saying they were shooting daggers or throwing shoes at each other, but there wasn’t much of a relationship there.’’

The idea was conceived three days after the preliminary election on Sept. 22, when Flaherty needed to shake up the race to have any hope of unseating the mayor, a four-term incumbent first elected in 1993. Flaherty had advanced to the final election Nov. 3 with 24 percent of the vote, to Menino’s 50.5 percent, while Yoon was eliminated with 21 percent. So Flaherty met with Yoon and offered him the position of deputy mayor, if he were elected. The two have been together ever since, campaigning as “Floon,’’ a moniker formed by blending their names.

The partnership has enabled Flaherty, a veteran councilor from South Boston, steeped in the neighborhood’s Irish-American political traditions and known for his cautious, strait-laced style, to demonstrate a maverick streak by teaming up with Yoon, a Princeton-educated Korean immigrant who has been hailed as a symbol of the “new Boston’’ of highly educated transplants, immigrants, and people of color.

Flaherty also hopes the partnership will extend his appeal beyond South Boston and Charlestown, the two traditionally white, working-class neighborhoods he won in the preliminary election, by attracting some of the young professionals and minorities who supported Yoon. Yoon, meanwhile, grabbed at the chance to keep his political aspirations alive, after his crushing defeat in the preliminary derailed his once-promising career.

“I think there’s some good chemistry here,’’ Flaherty said. “People are excited about it and it’s different.’’

Flaherty’s decision to form an alliance with Yoon has clearly irritated Menino, who at first denounced the move as an advertising gimmick, and then suggested that it might be ethically problematic because Flaherty promised Yoon a job if he would campaign for him.

Menino declined to offer further comment on the Flaherty-Yoon partnership when asked about it before the start of the Columbus Day Parade on City Hall Plaza on Sunday. But he has repeatedly pointed out - correctly - that there is no such thing as a ticket in Boston, because only Flaherty’s name will appear on the ballot. That fact has been largely ignored by the Flaherty campaign, which has printed up Flaherty/Yoon signs and fliers that show them clasping hands; at the Roslindale Day Parade last Sunday, Flaherty supporters chanted “Vote for Sam! Vote for Mike!’’

Flaherty and Yoon have gone to some lengths to show their partnership is genuine, making fund-raising calls from adjoining offices, and coordinating their schedules every day.

“Floon is real,’’ Flaherty said in a recent interview, “and there’s a lot of time and effort put into this.’’

Flaherty and Yoon were never particularly close during the four years they served together on the City Council. When Yoon was elected in 2005, he aligned himself with a group of outspoken minority councilors who dubbed themselves Team Unity, while Flaherty, who was elected in 1999, was part of a group of ambitious young white councilors who called themselves The Young Turks.

Yoon didn’t vote for Flaherty for council president when he was reelected to that post in 2006, and Yoon said he felt more comfortable with “natural allies’’ who came from activist backgrounds, like then-Councilor Felix D. Arroyo.

Flaherty and Yoon also had some sharp policy differences. Flaherty voted for the city budget every year until this year, while Yoon always voted against it. Flaherty opposed a meals tax increase that Yoon supported and backed the use of paid police details, which Yoon opposed.

“You can look at us and say, ‘This is an unlikely pairing,’ ’’ Yoon said. “Nevertheless, what we’re trying to express is that two people who don’t always agree on everything can actually work together to lead.’’

The 39-year-old Yoon and 40-year-old Flaherty acknowledge they are still adjusting to their new roles as teammates and, at times, their messages clash. In one of their first joint interviews after the preliminary, for example, Flaherty said he was eager to seek McCrea’s endorsement, while Yoon poured cold water on the idea.

“Campaign [and] political experts will tell you, you can put the name Donald Duck on the ballot and you’d get the same number of votes as McCrea,’’ Yoon said in the interview with the Jamaica Plain Gazette.

Yoon has also taken up the role of chief attacker on the campaign.

“What we’re facing is corruption in City Hall,’’ Yoon told reporters last week, denouncing a mayoral aide who deleted thousands of e-mails, in possible violation of state law. “The city should be outraged.’’

On the campaign trail, Flaherty and Yoon often work in tandem. At the Columbus Day Parade, for example, they marched shoulder-to-shoulder, waving to the crowds, and when Flaherty dove into the sidelines to shake hands, Yoon followed a step behind him, shaking the same hands and pushing the same message.

“Don’t forget to vote November 3d!’’ Flaherty told the parade-goers. “Time for a change!’’

“Time for a change!’’ Yoon echoed. “Happy Columbus Day!’’

When it comes demonstrating their rapport, however, nothing can top the video the campaign released showing Yoon donning dark sunglasses and tinkling an electronic piano while the pair sing “Flaherty and Deputy,’’ the song they worked up for a recent charity benefit that they ended up boycotting when Yoon was barred from performing because his name is not on the ballot.

“Flaherty and Deputy/ Call it Floon or call it Yoonerty / Irish and a Korean, teamin’ up, oh, why can’t we?’’ they crooned in two-part harmony, sitting side-by-side, swaying to the beat.

They text each other to avoid clashing wardrobes on the campaign trail.

“Today, I just feel like wearing a sweater,’’ Flaherty messaged Yoon one recent morning, according to Yoon. “How about you?’’

Michael Levenson can be reached at mlevenson@globe.com.