"I'm going to whip his ass."
A mayoral candidate, perhaps tipsy from a few drinks, advances to the runoff against the heavy favorite. She makes a brash--some would say vulgar--prediction. Should I print it?
Last week, I shared my experience with Fritz Peterson and how he prevailed on me not to include mention of the so-called “wife swapping” situation over 20 years earlier between him and New York Yankees teammate Mike Kekich.1
That was in Fall 1995. Today, let’s flip the calendar back about seven months to another moment when I was in possession of a detail that a source very much did not want me to publish. With Fritz, I gave ground; in this instance, amid a different set of circumstances, would I stand my ground?
Let’s set the scene…it’s Tuesday, February 28. Over the preceding three months, I’ve written dozens of stories related to the Elgin municipal election for mayor and three city council seats.
There’s no question that Kevin Kelly, a local chamber of commerce executive, will advance to the mayoral runoff in five weeks. He’s bright, ambitious, well-spoken and between building a strong volunteer team, raising much more money than his rivals and his own relentless campaigning, the only suspense is how far ahead of the five other candidates he’ll wind up.
The evening’s real intrigue: Who will emerge from the rest of the pack to go one-on-one against the energetic 35-year-old Kelly? As the results flow in, it becomes apparent that it will be Judy Browne.
A 52-year-old business consultant, Judy’s intelligent, accomplished and possesses a keen sense of humor. Over the past year or so, as I’ve covered city hall and she’s come to city council meetings and launched her bid for office, we’ve developed a positive, mutually respectful rapport.
I venture to her primary night gathering, a scene of good cheer with celebratory libations amply flowing. After jotting down the typical details and by-the-book comments—thanks to those who’ve supported me, looking forward to the runoff, etc. etc.—I’m about ready to head back to the newsroom to file my story.
Just one final question: I lean toward Judy and ask: “So how do you think you’ll do against Kevin?”2
She beams, a Chesire Cat grin accompanying this declaration:
“I’m going to whip his ass.”
She’s uttered the words with a smile and a glass of wine in her hand.
Is Judy tipsy? Quite possibly. Something in her body language suggests it’s not her first drink. In my story, I describe her as “exuberant.”
So, is Judy’s comment fair game for me to include in my story? Absolutely. She obviously knows who I am, she knows I’m writing a story, and she doesn’t preface her remark with a request to go “off the record.”
In the moments after her brash comment, either she or a supporter might have asked me, directly or indirectly, not to print it. I don’t recall, although I’m certain that if such a request had been made, I wouldn’t have made any promises.
Minutes later, back at my desk and on deadline, I mull whether those six words belong in the story. I talk it over with at least one editor; in the end, we decide in favor: The quote adds spice and reveals something about the underdog candidate’s feisty spirit.
The paper highlights the bold declaration, including it in a pull-quote graphic so even casual readers skimming the page get the message.
Nowadays, in this age of increasingly toxic political rhetoric, the remark surely comes across as tame. But back in 1995, it was a pretty spunky thing to say, especially for a distant second-place finisher.
Over the next handful of days, the “whip his ass” proclamation sparked criticism and praise from community members, probably in proportion to those who backed Kelly or Browne. Before long, it receded into the background of a race that focused on their policy views and overall qualifications for public service.
Meantime, after chuckling off the saga as a tempest in a teapot, Judy continued speaking to me. She had an election to try to win, after all, and my reporting was an important avenue of communication with voters.
In early April, Kelly got 55% of the vote, his derrière in the clear.
It was just as much “husband swapping,” too. Right?
Reflecting on that moment when I posed that final question to Judy Browne, I am tempted to compare it to the clever technique employed by Columbo, one of my favorite television characters. During his investigation, Columbo (played by Peter Falk) would be all set to leave—already out the door, in some cases—but then pop that one seemingly harmless or even foolish question. The individual’s response would invariably prove to be their undoing and lead to their arrest.
But that analogy only goes so far.
Judy didn’t really say anything incriminating. She was just being blunt and edgy. And secondly, the comment didn’t cost her the election five weeks later. If anything, I suspect it helped her galvanize more support and tighten the gap between her and Kevin Kelly.
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I think an interesting issue that this raises is today's state of politics, where guarantees are folly because voters don't really respond to individual candidates but just pull the lever of their party. I guess in a primary it's different, but my sense is that entrenched factors still basically decide the outcome, and it's far from a level playing field for all. Browne was probably speaking from that sense that a lot of kids have when they run for student government, that inordinate confidence that they can make the sale, and get people to like them. I very much have mixed feelings about the value of having that kind of talent. I try not to consider popularity these days. But that political campaigns are being decided on not much of anything is very disturbing. I would even rather they were decided on something meretricious.
I would say the most ballsy predictions come in individual sports or games, where you absolutely CAN control the outcome, and where your win is really a win, and your loss a loss. So Ali and Bobby Riggs are the exemplars. Someone who does this puts enormous pressure on himself. I think the pressure is almost as great if you make a guarantee about someone else, or about a team, where you don't control what happens at all, or maybe are haunted by the 5% you can control, and worry that your guarantee has messed things up and not let nature take its course. Browne's guarantee (or, more properly assertion) -- well, no reasonable person could have expected it to turn out, could have taken it seriously. So I don't think she put much pressure on herself. But I do think in the moment she said it to you, she believed it.
I do find pure politics and campaigns pretty fascinating. Politicians are a different breed, and it's a shame we've gotten away from the importance of door-to-door campaigning. I do admire the ambition that the best of the old politicans had. The deep dive on each of the candidates profiled in "What It Takes" is interesting. I am gaining similar insight from reading the Jimmy Carter biography.