The Night I Knew I was Going To Lose

The Night I Knew I Was Going To Lose

There’s been a lot of talk this year about a 50 state strategy – Dems running everywhere, trying everywhere, being in position just in case late developments make a long shot race winnable – look at Wyoming, look at Idaho, look at Mark Foley.

There’s also a case to be made for investing resources in the best prospects – the candidates with the sharpest resumes, the districts with the best demographics. I don’t know the right answer – both, I guess.

As regulars know, I was a legislative candidate ten years ago.

I remember the night I knew I was going to lose.

I was a classic example of the 50 state strategy – a relative unknown opposing an unproductive but affable incumbent in a very red district (though Red vs. Blue was still four years off). I was literally Better Than Nothing: it was either I run or there’s a blank line on the ballot. I had little money, a day job with little flexibility, which meant less time, and the strategy was simple. Knock on as many doors as possible and hope Bill Clinton and Tom Harkin had really, really long coattails in 1996.

The triage process can be brutal. My chances were evaluated and I was found wanting. But no one ever tells you this directly. And my local friends never ignored me or blew me off. But the attention was elsewhere.

Don’t misunderstand – all the names below are people I greatly respect, admire, and consider friends. This is a tale of self-recognition, not of criticism. I want to let you know what it feels like to know you’re going to lose.

About three weeks before the election we had a big rally at Dick Myers’ Hawk-I truck stop – now gone, redeveloped out of existence. Tom Harkin was there and they called me up on stage with the other legislators and Ro Foege.

People around here forget. Ro Foege LOST his first time out. 1994 was a nasty year to be a Democrat and we lost the Iowa House something like 64-36. In 1996 Ro wasn’t an incumbent, he was a CHALLENGER, like me. Well, not really like me, as you’ll see…

I stood up front at speech time with Tom Harkin and Ro and the legislators – some of who were living legends. Minnette Doderer, already in the Iowa Women’s Hall of Fame. Dick Myers, still a couple years away from the leadership but already a major player at the Capitol after only three sessions. Mary Mascher and Bob Dvorsky, rising stars and terrific advocates for their comminute and for kids. And… me? What the hell was I doing standing up there? I felt vaguely out of place and realized I had a really hard time with the “watch the speech” pose you have to hold on the platform with the Big Speaker.

But that wasn’t the moment I knew I was going to lose.

The program got done and everyone mingled. People were nice to me:

“How’s your race, John? You’ve got a tough district…”
“I’m glad you’re working so hard, we’re proud of you for doing this…”
“Maybe those Republicans in Muscatine will see the light this year, huh, John?”

During one of these pats on the back I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Ro was in a head to head to head huddle with Dick Myers and Tom Harkin. I couldn’t hear a word but this was clearly a Serious Conversation.

I was having “aren’t you good for doing this” conversations.

And I realized I wasn’t having a Serious Conversation and I never would.

I’d always known I was a long shot. But at that moment I realized completely, and with full acceptance, that I wasn’t going to be going to Des Moines in January.

And it didn’t hurt a bit.

I was proud to be a Democrat and proud to be a part of that event, proud to be included with those leaders even for a moment. And at that moment I wanted Ro Foege to win even more than I wanted to win myself. I’d worked on that losing campaign in 1994 and if he had a better chance than me, well that was one more seat for us

My dad was a coach and he always told his players never to give up no matter what the score was, to play your best. And he liked team players, hates guys more worried with how many passes THEY get than with winning. He used to say of the Kobe-Shaq Lakers: "You know the problem with that team? There's only one basketball."

So I went out those last three weeks and door knocked my socks off all over Louisa County, all over Muscatine County, and took the message of the Democrats to as many people as I could. Without illusions – and without regrets. I was a small piece of that 50 state strategy and I was proud of it. I was a more relaxed and more open candidate once I’d accepted defeat, and I gave a great answer about the death penalty at my one debate. It probably cost me more votes that it won, but it felt RIGHT. Sometimes I think we’d be better off if everyone ran expecting to lose.

1996 was a good year. But I needed a great year.

I didn’t have the resources to compete, and I was triaged out. But that year the Democrats picked up about 13 seats in the Iowa House – including Ro Foege.

Watching your friends lose hurts worse than losing yourself. I don’t know if watching your friends win feels better that winning yourself. But I do know that the joy of watching a friend win is bigger than the hurt of losing yourself.

In retrospect I’m glad they put the resources on the winnable races rather than wasting some symbolic “support” on my behalf. I didn't need the ball. I’m glad Ro got those Serious Conversations and he’s done a great job in Des Moines.

So does that put me in the 18 State Strategy camp, competing only in selected places? Not really.

Someone once described my race as “compost.” Compost is largely made of manure and losing certainly does feel like shit. But it makes the ground more fertile for the future. My 38% held two years later, grew to 46 four years later, and blossomed into victory in 2004. So yes, marshal your resources efficiently, but build to the future too.

Bottom line: The time to focus on the build to the future, the 50 state strategy, is early. Get the best candidates you can in place, build the message. But at the end? Depends on the year, the circumstances. In my year, it was time for brutal triage, for tighter focus. This year? Might be different. Might be a time to expand the field. But still race by race, contest by contest, realistically.