My daughter texted me from school today. She was in her freshman humanities class which is basically an English/social studies mashup. Anna texts me from school a lot. When she does so it's usually the best part of my day. Today, like most days, it was because she wanted to share something funny with me.
Today, however, my credentials and I were the butt of the joke:
Anna later explained that her teacher was not talking about me, my political science degree and my sports writing career specifically. Rather, she was just making a point about how, when you read something, you should be critical of the writer, who he or she is and what his or her background is. Today they happened to be discussing an article about the value of a liberal arts education and the teacher approvingly noted that its author had a history degree so, obviously, he knew what he was talking about. The crack about the political science degree-possessing sports writer was an imaginary horrible meant to portray a true ignoramus.
I won't lie: I was less than pleased about all of this. Not because I thought of it as some sort of personal attack, as I have never met her teacher and she doesn't know a thing about me or my career. And not because of the underlying lesson, as I agree it is vitally important to assess and be critical of one's information sources. Rather, I was pissed about how superficial a notion it is to look at a person's formal education to assess a person's credibility.
I've gone at length about my unconventional career path, but I'm not the only person doing something radically different than their college transcript might suggest they'd one day do. My father grew up working on cars at his father's taxi cab company and wanted to work on jet engines one day but, due to a typographical error by the United States Navy, wound up in meteorology school and spent the next 40 years as a weather man. Anna's mother has a degree in French but has spent the past 23 years working in the office furniture business. My best friend from college has an M.A. in history but has nonetheless spent most of the past 20 years working at technology companies in Silicon Valley. I'm sure all of us know many people who have careers that are completely unrelated to whatever it was they studied in college and who can speak as authorities on those topics regardless of what they happened to major in back in the day.
My displeasure with what I heard today was not, however, simply about a teacher who does not seem to appreciate that career paths are often crooked. It's about her seeming not to appreciate the value of a crooked career path in and of itself.
I am not exactly a typical or a popular figure in the baseball writing world. When I began this job a decade ago it was pretty unusual for a large media company like NBC to give someone with no journalism experience the kind of platform I have. One used to pay their dues for years, serving time as an agate guy, a high school football stringer, a backup beat writer and then, maybe, if everything broke right, they could be a columnist, which is roughly equivalent to what I do. I jumped the line. I had never been part of the baseball writing fraternity. What's more, my writing tends to skew pretty sharp and critical and includes a lot of media criticism as well so, while I have made many friends in the business over the years, I'm still not welcome in the club. If my credentials had been in order -- if I had gone to journalism school and if I had written game stories for the Des Moines Register or the Sacramento Bee -- I'd likely be invited to more meetings and parties.
But I'd probably also not have this job.
NBC was late to the online sports game and, when they launched my website, they wanted to make up for lost time. They did so not by aping what everyone else had done ten years earlier, but by making some noise. They hired a lawyer to be their football writer and, with that precedent set, hired one to be their baseball writer too. Our lack of a journalism background and our willingness to say and do whatever the hell we wanted to was a feature, not a bug, and nearly a decade later it's still working pretty well. It's working well, I'd argue, precisely because neither Mike Florio nor I approach our job like someone who went to J-school would and because, as such, we give readers something they can't get anywhere else. Our lack of traditional qualifications for our job were strengths, not weaknesses. NBC's hiring people with unconventional resumes helped them solve a problem they likely could not have solved (i.e. catching up with their competitors quickly) if they had done the conventional thing.
A couple of lawyers with liberal arts backgrounds are not alone in that, of course. There are a lot of people who contribute to society in ways far more important than writing about sports despite the fact that they are not doing what they had set out to do back in college. There are companies being run by people without business degrees, artists who never went to art school, musicians who never had lessons, and tons and tons of people making a difference in the world despite the fact that they simply fell into jobs adjacent to -- or often not adjacent to -- the disciplines they initially set out to pursue.
That's true even of the guy who wrote the article about the value of a liberal arts education they were discussing in my daughter's class today. The guy who was deemed OK by Anna's teacher because he had a history degree. His name is David Brooks. He's a columnist for the New York Times who didn't spend a day in journalism school and who hasn't spent a minute pursuing the academic study of history since he graduated from the University of Chicago 35 years ago.
There's probably a lesson in there someplace. If Anna doesn't learn it at school, I'll make a point to talk to her about it separately. I think I can do it too, despite the fact that I didn't study education.
I took my kids to Cleveland for the Orioles-Indians game on Friday night. They’re not really big baseball fans, but they like going to games. Partially because it’s fun and there’s junk food, but mostly because it provides them a new venue for the sort of savage and absurdist commentary for which Gen-Z kids are quickly becoming famous.
I’ve watched this from a front row seat for a couple of years now. Anyone who follows me on Twitter is familiar with how brutally my daughter Anna, 14, owns me via text messages (and some old timers around here may remember her greatest hits from WAY back in the day). Others who follow me know how deeply into absurdist and envelope-pushing meme culture my son, Carlo, 13, happens to be. Every day is a new, eye-opening adventure. I’m impressed by the level of savagery they’re capable of in their early teens and terrified at what they’re going to capable of once they reach adulthood.
I’m likewise suffering from no small amount of whiplash. I mean, I once thought my fellow Gen-Xers and I had perfected ironic emotional detachment and that whole “whatever, nothing matters anyway” stance. I also thought that a decade’s worth of Millennials restoring an earnestness and emotional honesty to the lexicon of our nation’s youth — the likes of which we haven’t seen for probably 60 or 70 years — had all but buried that jaded sentiment once and for all.
Nope. The Gen-Z kids are going to stomp on the Millennials’ throats and pour acid all over their hopes, dreams and pretensions of an earnest and hopeful world. Then they’ll laugh mockingly at the Gen-Xers as we’re exposed for the amateurs that we are, and will rhetorically kill us, like some warrior coming back to vanquish their sensei. The only saving grace is that whatever Boomers are still left as this happens will just die of shock and outrage. Gen-Z will not be attending their funerals either unless they need some pics of dead grandpa for a devastating meme or two (Carlo has already told my father that he’s going to meme him once he passes away; my father does not quite know what to make of that, mostly because he’s 74 and does not know what a meme is).
Anyway, I’ve blocked out most of what they had to say during the game as a means of psychological self-defense, but trust me when I say that it was three straight hours of running commentary at turns hilarious, frightening and truly disturbing in ways that are hard to pin down. I do, however, remember or have documentation of a few things that went down in between the hot dogs and bon mottes:
All of that being said, I don’t want you to get the impression that Anna and Carlo’s entire existence is savage owns and joking and ironic detachment. They are actually smart, sweet and sensitive kids who, when they’re not joking around, possess more empathy for their fellow humans than most adults who have seen and experienced far more than they have do. I am proud of my kids for that. Truly proud. Indeed I worry that the jaded exterior I’ve been describing is a defensive perimeter they and their generation have been forced to erect because the generations which came before them have thrown so much fear into their world and, perhaps, are even ruining it before my kids get a chance to live in it as adults. That’s a lot to put on anyone, but the fact that we’ve put that sort of weight on our children is a tragedy. Knowing that the’ll have to cope with what we have done to make their lives harder and, quite possibly, shorter, breaks my heart.
Those thoughts were swirling around my head as the game neared its end Friday evening. As they did, I looked over to Carlo and Anna sitting next to me. They were watching the game intently. And, even though it had started raining, quite contently. They seemed happy. The cynicism and the wiseguy routines had been left back in the middle innings somewhere. When Cody Allen struck out Kyle, er, I mean Joey Rickard, for the game’s final out, they both stood up and cheered a genuine and exuberant cheer. When they did, I figured it was a good opportunity for some rare heartfelt sincerity.
“So, Baseball. You like it, eh?” I said in my proudest dad voice, thinking that, just maybe, we had bonded over something near and dear to my heart. Anna looked at me and smiled. Then she said something I’ll never forget.
“Not really. But I guess I sort of have to respect it because if it wasn’t for baseball you’d be unemployed and I’d probably be homeless.”
Last year I spent a lot of time talking about Ohio's 12th district. I wrote about how I thought it was possible for a Democrat to win it and I proceeded to lay out a multipart road map of how, in my view, it could be done. This despite the fact that the district is sharply gerrymandered to favor Republicans.
The special election was held tonight and, as I write this, it appears that the Democrat, Danny O'Connor, will not win. There are still uncounted provisional and mail-in ballots, but I suspect that will not be enough and that the Republican Troy Balderson will be declared the victor.
This is not the outcome I hoped for, but it is is not a bad result.
The GOP has held OH-12 for all but one term in the last 76 years. Since OH-12 was gerrymandered, the Republican has won with a margin of 27-40 points. In 2016, the district went 11 points in favor of Trump, 14 points to the right of the nation and the GOP congressional candidate won by nearly 40 points.
Tonight, it appears, the Republican will win by a couple of points, max. That is a massive underperformance for the Republican, even when you account for the fact that the seat was open and even when you account for the fact that the GOP holds the presidency and it's an off-year election, which normally favors the opposition party. The fundamentals of this district -- again, massively gerrymandered to favor Republicans -- means that it should've been a cakewalk instead of the nail-biter that it was.
Some additional thoughts about this:
As you may remember -- and as you can see if you follow the links above -- I spent a lot of time last year talking about this race, along with my theory that an economic populist/pro-labor message was the key to winning a district like this one. O'Connor did not run that pro-labor/economic populist race. I'm not second-guessing that. He and his people had access to the data, talked to the voters and made the decisions. My stuff on that was merely speculative. As I wrote last night: it was a strong outcome, even in loss.
That said, turnout was high for an off-year, special election, but still rather pathetic in the grand scheme. I think you address that -- and thereby overcome the huge gerrymander disadvantage -- by engaging traditional non-voters and that the economic populism does that. As Alexandra Ocasio-Ortez said recently, “the swing voter is not red to blue. The swing voter is non voter to voter. That’s our swing voter.”
There is reason to believe that's who is necessary to engage in OH-12. I say this because, based on preliminary results, it appears that O'Connor was not turning red voters blue. Red voters stayed home. O'Connor ramped up turnout in the blue parts of OH-12 due to an excellent ground game led by motivated volunteers, but partisan lines generally weren't crossed. It was a motivation thing. What if new voters were engaged? Voters who, their personal and cultural dispositions aside, had never committed to being active partisan voters?
This is untestable I suspect. But I likewise suspect that there are thousands upon thousands of people in Licking, Morrow, Richland and Muskingum county -- and in Franklin county for that matter -- who never vote who might with a new message. A message that speaks to issues which politicians generally don't speak to and which reaches people who generally are not reached.
Again, I am not criticizing the O'Connor campaign in this regard. It was a good result even if the ultimate outcome was a loss. But I suspect that's the absolute limit a traditional Democrat can do in a place like OH-12 given the maximal motivation we saw on the Democratic side and the sorts of election dynamics which we are unlikely to see again any time soon. It was an admirable effort, but one which still fell short. It strikes me that, maybe, one needs a different message to match the admirable mobilization we saw and to break through in a district that has every other dynamic strongly stacked in Republicans' favor.
All that aside: for November, it means good things for Democrats nationwide. As of this writing, it appears that OH-12 will have seen around a a 13 point swing toward Democrats over and above the natural partisan lean of the seat. Nationwide, at the moment, it appears that things are swinging about 15 points to the Democrats. Based on those results, it all but ensures a blue wave in November.
I'm sad that the Democrat did not win, bit I am hopeful that this is a harbinger of a strong Democratic showing in November and, finally, a push back against the ruinous path on which Donald Trump and the Republican party has led this country for the past two years.
Last year I wrote a multi-part series about how, in my view, it was very, very possible for a Democrat to win my district, the Ohio 12th Congressional district. This despite the fact that the district is sharply gerrymandered to favor Republicans. This despite the fact that the Republican routinely carried two-thirds of the vote. In so doing I laid out a multipart road map of how, in my view, a Democratic candidate could win.
As I write this, we are six days from the special election to pick Tiberi's successor and, while there are no guarantees until the election actually, you know, happens, the Democratic candidate, Danny O'Connor, stands a pretty good chance at flipping one of the country's deepest red districts blue:
In the special election to be held next Tuesday, Balderson the Republican has 44% support and O’Connor the Democrat has 43% support among all potential voters . . . A relatively large 11% remain undecided. A little over one month ago, Balderson had a 43% to 33% advantage among all potential voters . . . a standard model that looks like a typical midterm voter pool shows the race basically tied at 46% for Balderson and 45% for O’Connor . . . In a Democratic “surge” model akin to turnout patterns that have been seen in some but not all special elections held since 2017, O’Connor has 46% and Balderson has 45%.
A tossup to be sure, but again, since the district was gerrymandered, the Republican has won with a margin of no lower than 27 points and by as many as 40 points.
I cannot say that I have been fully on board with everything Danny O'Connor has done as a candidate. He has, contrary to my prescription last year, tracked to the center in several respects and has not made economic populism a central part of his campaign. That said, my prescriptions were based on national data and voter attitudes while he no doubt has far more accurate data about this district. My gut instincts about it all may be wrong and, even if he does not win, I will in no way be playing any "I told you so" games. To do so would be like the football fan who calls plays from his couch and it's not worth much at this time of the campaign.
All I know for sure is that this performance, at this moment, seems damn nigh astounding.
If O'Connor, or any other Democrat, were to lose next week's special election by fewer than 20 points it would be a historic underachievement for the Republican in this district. If he were to lose by single digits, it would be a harbinger of doom for the GOP in the runup to this fall's elections.
That O'Connor may actually win this damn thing places us someplace extraordinary indeed.
(if you want to support O'Connor, do so here)