The battle of the press conferences began at 8.30am, which, for Westminster, is practically dawn. The timing was all rather childish. When David Cameron heard the day before that Gordon Brown was holding his press conference at 9.30am, Dave decided to hold his at 8.30am. Dave’s motto is: anything Gordon can do, I can do better. The only problem? These days he can’t.

Bacon butties and strong black coffee were provided by the Tories. This is the kind of thing normally reserved for elections. They had even come up with a clunking new logo of three interconnected cogged wheels that said: Keep Britain Working. When I saw the logo – which is one of the worst logos ever – I almost felt sorry for the Tories. They are trying hard, too hard really.

There were other immediate problems. Disastrously, Dave looked fresh as a daisy. He’ll need to get some eye bags. No one believes someone who looks like Little Lord Fauntleroy can save us from recession.

At least he was accompanied by George Osborne, who, post-Yachtgate, wears the grim face of a condemned man.

It used to be Gordon who tried too hard. No longer. Now it’s Dave giving us wide-eyed earnest explanations about his wizard new tax cut for employers. It sounded very complicated. If Gordon was watching – and I’m not sure he would have time now that he is saving the world – he would have found it all very risible. For Dave’s plan covered only Britain! Gordon would have found that almost claustrophobically provincial.

Clock ticking, we raced over to No 10 to see Gordon the Global Leader. He did not disappoint, for he is grander by the day. He looked terrible, for, of course, he’d been up all night, phoning world leaders in the run-up to this weekend’s Bretton Woods II. If he weren’t saving the economy, he’d be a phone pest.

“This is a key moment for the world,” he announced, for Mr Brown is now the arbiter of all key moments in the world.

The self-love flowed like wine at a bacchanalia. I was disappointed he wasn’t still wearing his white-tie outfit from the Lord Mayor’s Banquet the night before. Do you remember when Gordon shunned white tie? Well, he loves it now. I have to say it’s a worrying sign, for it reminds me of all those African dictators who always end up wearing something with epaulettes. Gordon thinks white tie gives him global gravitas though, in reality, he just looks as though he’s the captain of the Love Boat.

He didn’t say much about Britain per se. We are merely a piece of the jigsaw, if a particularly funny-shaped one.

Gordon can’t think small any longer, for all monetary and fiscal policies must be global. He wants a global fiscal stimulus package and a total IMF reorganisation. He wants Doha and he wants it now. Plus there must be global transparency for all, including tax havens. He wants to create a super-regulator in which “colleges of supervisors” will crisscross international borders, laying down the law to the banks. Do pigs fly? They do now.

“The G8 is too small,” he explained. “It’s got to be more than G8 or G13. That’s why it’s G20.” I began to suspect that the G in G20 now stood for Gordon.

So, at the end of the day (or even the morning), the battle of the press conferences was a clear win for Gordon. Indeed, the only way it could have been better was if he’d worn white tie.

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