THE CINDERELLA MEN - A TALE OF TWO TENDERHEARTED TOUGH GUYS

On the night of June 13th, 1935, 29,000 patrons filled an outdoor stadium in Queens, New York to watch a prize fight. It was not just any prize fight. It was a title fight between the challenger, James J. Braddock and the Heavyweight Champion of the World, Max Baer.

A 10 to 1 underdog, Braddock shocked the sports world by beating Baer in a unanimous decision, capping what boxing aficionados consider to be one of the greatest comeback stories of all time. The champion may have had the most powerful right-hand punch of any heavyweight in boxing history. Two fighters had died as a result of Baer’s right-hand blows.

Braddock, at 191 pounds did not match-up well to Baer’s 219 pounds, or to Baer’s 6-inch reach advantage. What Braddock did have was a cast iron jaw and a fear in his heart greater than death. For 15 rounds, Braddock was the relentless aggressor. He took the champ’s punishing blows and never stopped coming at him.

Greater fighters and greater fights preceded and followed this 1935 bout, rendering Braddock vs. Baer an obscure piece of boxing history, and there it would have remained if actor, Russell Crowe had not decided that he needed to play the role of Jim Braddock in a movie, and if director, Ron Howard had not said: “Let’s do it!”

That collaboration resulted in the 2005 film, Cinderella Man, which had plenty of relevance at the time it was made, but not nearly as much relevance as it has right now, living in a nation fighting with its heart and soul to survive the human wreckage of Trumpism.

1935 was just about the half-way point of the Great Depression. In 1929 the stock market crashed, banks failed, and millions of Americans became jobless and homeless. The 29,000 fight fans who showed up to see the fight, were the fortunate ones who could afford a ticket. The stadium was built to hold 70,000, and boxing was as popular then as professional football is today.

For most Americans, poverty and desperation had become the new normal. Hundreds of thousands of shanty towns, known as Hoovervilles − sarcastically named for President Herbert Hoover, whose policies were blamed for causing and deepening the Great Depression, had sprung up in cities and towns across the country.

Homeless men, women, and families lived in shacks that they made from wooden crates, cardboard, scraps of metal and glass, or just holes in the ground with some facsimile of a roof. Some shacks stood out for their craftsmanship. Plenty of skilled tradesmen were among the homeless.

Hoovervilles were often located near soup kitchens, so those residents could be first in line for their only meal of the day. Photographs show us that many of the men standing in soup lines and breadlines wore business suits.

The barriers between living a happy life and plummeting into dire poverty proved more fragile than anyone could have imagined.

A vintage photograph shows a man, standing in an endless breadline in New York City, holding this sign:

WHO WILL HELP ME GET A JOB?

I DO NOT WANT CHARITY

A sign posted at the entrance to a small rural town delivered a cold, hard, and common message:

JOBLESS MEN KEEP GOING

WE CAN’T TAKE CARE OF OUR OWN

 Seemingly in the blink of an eye, America had run out of luck, immortalized not just in photographs, but in the music of the day.

They used to tell me I was building a dream

With peace and glory ahead

Why should I be standing in line

Just waiting for bread?

 

(Try singing this out loud to fully capture the anguish.)

Once I built a railroad, I made it run

Made it race against time

Once I built a railroad, now it's done

Brother, can you spare a dime?

 

Once I built a tower up to the sun

Brick and rivet and lime

Once I built a tower, now it's done

Brother, can you spare a dime?

This was Herbert Hoover’s America − an America that crushed the spirit of the strongest souls.

Before the Depression hit, a young Jim Braddock was making a name for himself as an up and coming fighter, but not as a heavyweight, which he aspired to be. He couldn’t make the weight. As a natural middleweight and then a light heavyweight, he was just about unstoppable.

In 1928, the top contender, Tuffy Griffiths was next in line to fight the Light Heavyweight Champion, Tommy Loughran. First, Griffiths needed one more fight − someone who deserved a shot but could be easily beaten. He mistakenly chose Jim Braddock, who ruined Tuffy’s plans by knocking him out.

With that huge upset, Braddock earned his shot at the light heavyweight title. On July 18th, he climbed into the ring with Tommy Loughran, the smartest, toughest fighter he had ever faced. But 1929 turned into an upset year for Jim Braddock and for everyone else.

Braddock lost by a decision and, in the process, broke his right hand. His dream was shattered, and he fell into a deep depression, but he kept fighting. And he kept breaking his hand. He lost 18 of his next 30 fights. His performance in the ring was so bad that New York revoked his license, ending his boxing career.

And before the year was over, the stock market crashed, banks went under, and Hoovervilles and breadlines became part of the new reality. Jim Braddock’s new reality was one of hopelessness and fear. He was dead broke with a wife and three young kids.

Despite the Depression, the ports of New York and New Jersey still had ships to be loaded and unloaded. So, Braddock worked as a longshoreman, but only the days when he got lucky. Each morning, he would walk miles to the docks, hoping to get hired. If he didn’t get lucky, he would walk miles to the next port, and if he again didn’t get lucky, he would walk home and hope to find any odd job.

When, he did get lucky, he would work a 16-hour day for four dollars, sometimes having to kick back a dollar to a corrupt hiring boss. The once proud man then faced his worst humiliation. He went to the welfare office, stood in line alongside his friends, neighbors, and strangers, and applied for relief. He was paid either $17 or $24 per week. The records aren’t clear. What is clear is that he still could not pay his bills or feed his family.

Jim Braddock, like so many others, had hit rock bottom. Of all the Great Depression comeback stories, where individuals found a way to use rock bottom as a springboard to the top, the Jim Braddock story is nothing short of amazing.

How did a washed-up fighter with a smashed-up hand, end up back in the ring, fighting for the Heavyweight Championship of the World?

Well, it started with a window of opportunity − a very narrow window of opportunity.

In 1934, “Corn” Griffin, known as the Ozark Cyclone, was a fast rising contender in the heavyweight division who needed a fight to add to his resume − a fight that he could easily win − just a stepping-stone on his way to the championship.

Braddock’s manager seized on the opportunity. The “washed-up” Braddock had enough name recognition to justify a match and to be served up as a sacrificial lamb to keep Griffin’s career on track.

So, with zero fight preparation, Jim Braddock walked off the docks one day and into the boxing ring the next day. The only question was: How many rounds could he possibly last? But, somehow, this had become a different man and a totally reinvented fighter. He wasn’t depressed. He was on fire. Braddock ruined the Ozark Cyclone’s plans by knocking him out in the third round.

This remarkable upset was naturally seen as a fluke, resulting from a lucky punch. But the fluke made him an even more valuable stepping-stone for the top contenders vying for their chance to take on Max Baer. The talented John Henry Lewis would be the next beneficiary.

Or so he thought, and so the experts thought.

Braddock had other plans. In yet “another fluke,” he beat Lewis in a 12-round decision, clearing the way for the tough ring veteran Art Lasky to fight Max Baer. All Lasky had to do to get his shot at the title was to end Jim Braddock’s improbable comeback. And the tough, ring savvy Lasky was just the man to do it.

Except that underdog Braddock wasn’t quite finished with his comeback, which Lasky learned when a perfect Braddock right hand punch broke his nose.

Within a span of 9 months, the man who never stopped being the aggressor, never shied away from absorbing the blows, and never listened to the experts, became a hero to every American caught in their own personal Great Depression.

This most improbable of comebacks prompted the popular writer, Damon Runyon to dub him the “Cinderella Man,” but that was never the nickname used by the people who knew him best. To them, he was known as Plain Jim. The quiet, soft spoken, modest, humble, man of a few words was the perfect hero for Americans huddled around radios across America and the globe, rooting for him as though they were rooting for themselves.

But how on earth did he pull it off?

Back in the days when New York revoked his license, he wasn’t just losing fights. He was losing to bad fighters. The fights were so bad that patrons booed and demanded their money back. Then suddenly he walks off the docks and begins beating the best in the world, and in a higher weight class? Seriously?

The answer is actually quite simple. At least part of it is.

When Braddock was losing all of those fights, he was fighting with a broken right hand, forcing him to begin learning how to use his left more effectively, while at the same time trying to conceal the uselessness of his right hand from his opponent, who would have exploited that weakness. This made him a craftier, more multi-dimensional fighter.

So, while he was losing quite pathetically, he was actually becoming more skillful. It was just that no one bothered to notice.

Then, performing long hours of grueling dock work without using his right hand had strengthened his left hand and allowed his right hand to finally heal. And the long walks to and from the docks kept his legs strong. For Braddock, the cold hard world became his gym.

And he had one more thing.  

Novelist, John Steinbeck said this about the men of the Depression:

“How can you frighten a man whose hunger is not only in his own cramped stomach but in the wretched bellies of his children? You can't scare him. He has known a fear beyond every other.”

Jim Braddock knew that fear. For him, facing Max Baer, the man with the killer punch, paled compared to the relentless, haunting memory of being powerless to feed his family.

The movie did a disservice to Max Baer by portraying him as a villain. He in fact was a nice guy, a fun-loving guy, who enjoyed nightclubs and women. What he did not enjoy was training hard for a fight. He had no need to train hard for the match with Braddock who, as usual, was handpicked to be easy prey, and should only last for a few rounds.

In the ring, Baer was not so nice. He was a master of distraction. He threw low blows and illegal back hands, all meant to have Braddock look to the ref to call the foul and momentarily drop his guard. None of that worked. Even landing his lethal right on Braddock’s jaw did not put him on the canvas. Braddock’s eyes stayed fixed on his target, and his feet kept moving forward, never yielding an inch of ground to his opponent.

Nobody would have knocked out Jim Braddock that night. Nobody.

On June 22, 1937, in Chicago’s Comiskey Park, Braddock defended his title against Joe Louis. All of the fighters beaten by Braddock were supposed to be part of boxing’s future. Braddock had temporarily put the future on hold. But Joe Louis was another matter.

Facing, perhaps the greatest heavyweight of all-time, Braddock fought valiantly, even knocking the challenger off his feet early in the fight, but Louis, aptly nicknamed the Brown Bomber, won by a knockout.

Joe Louis would hold the title for an incredible 12 years. For Braddock, it was a lucrative deal that left him financially set for life.

I would like you to know that I never intended to go into this amount of detail about Jim Braddock. I wanted to stick to the highlights and lowlights, but the more I probed, the more detail I found indispensable.

The more I learned about Braddock, the more he came to life, and the more relevant his struggle and his triumph became. From one perspective, we are all a story of the punches we’ve thrown − those that landed and those that missed, and of the punches that landed on us, especially those that rocked us.

Whenever I hear a candidate for public office, tell us that if elected, “I will fight for you,” I cringe. The promise always rings hollow − empty, off-the-shelf, irritatingly patronizing politician-speak. I am happy to hear about their victories, but only when balanced by a candid account of their personal defeats. And such honesty is rare.

I want a candidate to tell me what knocked him down, what nearly robbed her of hope, what made them a better, smarter fighter − if and how they became reinvented, and what they did to deserve their shot at the title.

Seven months ago, Joe Biden’s campaign was dead broke. For him, the early contests for the nomination were a string of pathetic losses. Democrats were desperate for a fighter with a knockout punch, a big right hand that could put Trump face down on the canvas, where he would lie motionless and unconscious. Joe Biden was yesterday’s news, a feeble version of his old self, with nothing left in his tank.

For me, the real story of Braddock’s comeback does not come through by simply hitting the highlights and the lowlights. Braddock got better when no one was bothering to notice. Being underestimated and remaining underestimated through his bouts with Corn Griffin, John Henry Lewis, and Art Lasky was essential to his comeback story.

In the Iowa Caucuses, Joe became an object of pity, with scene after scene of rooms teeming with excitement, but no one to be seen in the Biden section.

His fifth-place performance in the New Hampshire Primary was considered a disaster. No presidential nominee had ever finished below second place.

Then Bernie beat him Nevada.

Politically, Biden had hit rock bottom.

Even after his comeback in South Carolina, no candidate would be able compete with Bernie and Bloomberg in the Super Tuesday states, where their ad buys dominated the airways. Democrats were facing the realistic possibility that the Party was headed for a brokered convention.

Only one thing could turn the tide, and it wasn’t money. It was the ringing endorsement of Black America. With it comes the Democratic nomination. And so, they spoke. They had already parked their support with Biden, and after reviewing the field, their votes made it official. The only one they trusted to beat Trump and to remain loyal to them was the 77-year old battle-tested, battle-scarred, and battle-hardened veteran.

Now it was up to him to lead, and there was little room for error. He had to clearly present his case, while avoiding Trump’s onslaught of distraction and character assassination. He had to keep moving forward, never losing sight of what he was fighting for. And that is exactly what he did.

He looked like a reinvented Joe Biden.

But then came the debates. You have to admit that you were scared to death. Trump would do to Joe what he had done to Rubio, Cruz, Jeb Bush, and any contender that dared take him on. He pounded each of them with insults until they backed off. Only Hillary stood toe to toe and beat him. It would be others that robbed her of the victory that she had earned.

Trump did not bother to train for the first debate. His handlers gave him talking points, which he chose to ignore. Instead he led with distractions and low blows. He stepped on the referee/moderator and on the entire debate process. The punches he landed on Biden failed to draw blood. The punches that missed landed squarely on his own jaw. Seniors and suburban women continued leaving his corner.

For the past 4 years, it appeared that, in the age of Trump, temperament didn’t matter, manners were a thing of the past, and bullying at the highest level was now acceptable. How shocking that seniors and women − even those who leaned Republican − would find it unacceptable for a president to be so rude, especially as he sends illness, death, and chaos in their direction!

Biden did train for the debate. He trained to go the distance. He stayed on message. This was not the Biden of the Democratic debates whose answers were often unclear and rambling.

Trump toned it down in the second debate, but his performance was way too little and way too late.

In the 15^th round of this second championship fight, moderator Kristen Welker asked the final question. It was the single most important question of the debate. Here it is:

This is about leadership, gentlemen. Imagine this is your Inauguration Day. What will you say in your address to Americans who did not vote for you?

Trump went first. He blamed China for “the plague.” He praised his performance as president. He falsely credited himself with improving the lives of all minorities, giving them “the best unemployment numbers in history”. And he said that if Biden were elected, he would raise everyone’s taxes and send the economy into depression.

Joe Biden, the president-in-waiting, said this:

I will say, I’m the American president. I represent all of you whether you voted for me or against me. And I'm going to make sure that you’re represented.

I’m going to give you hope. We're going to move. We're going to choose science over fiction. We're going to choose hope over fear. We're going to choose to move forward because we have enormous opportunities, enormous opportunities to make things better. 

We can grow this economy.

We can deal with systemic racism.

At the same time, we can make sure that our economy is being run, and moved, and motivated by clean energy, creating millions of new jobs. And that's the fact, that's what we're going to do.

And I'm going to say, as I said at the beginning, what is on the ballot here is the character of this country. Decency. Honor. Respect. Treating people with dignity.

Making sure that everyone has an even chance.

Now, I'm going to make sure you get that. You haven't been getting it the last four years.

He hit every point that he needed to hit. In both words and tone, he nailed it.

I have no doubt that your previous favorite Democratic candidate, had he or she won the nomination, would also have nailed the answer to the leadership question. Pete, Amy, Liz, Bernie, or Bloomberg would have delivered a parting address that spoke to all of us − a message that would have inspired, reassured, and united us.

One of them might have delivered a more rousing or a more eloquent speech. Biden’s speech is rather plain. And yet it is perfect because it is perfect Joe.

In a news conference before the big fight with Max Baer, a reporter asked the question: Jim, you couldn’t win a fight for love or money. How do you explain this comeback? 

From the part of his soul that still ached from being powerless to feed his children, Braddock answered that this time around he knew what he was fighting for. He told the reporter he was fighting for milk.

In his acceptance speech at the Democratic Convention, Biden spoke from the depths of his soul to comfort those who had lost loved ones to Covid-19.

On this summer night, let me take a moment to speak to those of you who have lost the most.

I know how it feels to lose someone you love. I know that deep black hole that opens up in your chest. That you feel your whole being is sucked into it. I know how mean and cruel and unfair life can be sometimes.

But I've learned two things.

First, your loved ones may have left this Earth but they never leave your heart. They will always be with you.

And second, I found the best way through pain and loss and grief is to find purpose.                                                                                              

In a few days, we will be engaged in our modern-day version of huddling around the radio, rooting for our favorite fighter like we are rooting for ourselves and this time, we will be rooting for ourselves and for everything we hold sacred.

Judging from his ever-rising poll numbers, a suffering and fearful nation has again chosen a perfect hero. I think that when the votes are tallied, this Cinderella Man should be given a more fitting nickname.

How about President Joe?

 

Bruce Coltin

Surviving Trump Two Minutes at a Time

 

 

  

THERE IS MAD AND THERE IS FLIPPING MAD

Leading up to the 2016 presidential election, there was a suspicion that a significant number of voters were not leveling with the pollsters. Rumor had it that some pro-Trump voters were either lying and saying that they would be voting for Hillary, or they were lying and saying that they were undecided. The assumption was that they were either embarrassed about their true intention, or they were joining in a kind of prank to help produce an election surprise.

There is understandably a fear among Democrats that those pranksters are at it again. But this time around, could some Democrats be playing the same game? When we take a look at Joe Biden’s state by state numbers, we see that they have remained consistent, but we are worried that the poll numbers are not showing a breakaway lead in the states that will determine the election.

Democratic organizers understand that voter turnout will decide the election, and they may be working behind the scenes to prevent “soft” voters from becoming complacent. Have these organizers been sending out the word for respondents to be cagey with the pollsters or to not answer their questions?

So, for the moment, let’s assume that we can’t totally believe the poll numbers − at least the head-to-head numbers where registered voters or “likely” voters tell pollsters which candidate they plan on voting for.

Fortunately for us, the pollsters have a trick up their sleeves that they are careful to play with skillful subtlety. It is called the Right Direction/Wrong Track question, and it’s best presented with the utmost casualness, along the lines of: “Generally speaking, do you think that the country is headed in the right direction or is it off on the wrong track?” That kind of question gives us a useful glimpse into the respondent’s state of mind that might or might not align with their choice of candidate.

Right Direction/Wrong Track captures, in a general way, what are commonly referred to as “kitchen table” issues. During normal times, the issues, often discussed at America’s kitchen tables are centered around family finances, such as the affordability of college, a family vacation, a home renovation, and sometimes accepting the risks associated with starting a family business.

The kitchen table discussion is of course quite different if the issues are: how to come up with next month’s rent, or how to stretch the grocery budget, or how to pay for uncovered medical bills.

When it comes to reelecting presidents, voters tend not to rock the boat when all is well at the kitchen table. But, when a majority of Americans feel that all is not going well, changing the party in power suddenly becomes a serious kitchen table topic.

In 2016, 31% of voters believed that the country was headed in the right direction, while 62% believed it was on the wrong track. Interestingly, most of the 31% did not blame Barack Obama. They blamed government in general or “the system,” which helps explain the election of a candidate who promised to turn the system upside down and drain the swamp.

The last five presidential elections that flipped political parties were 1980, 1992, 2000, 2008, and 2016. The average Right Direction numbers from those five election years was 24% and the average Wrong Track numbers was 70%. The election of 2008 stands out with Right Direction numbers at a dismal 11%, as George W. Bush was leaving office at the start of the Great Recession, and the U.S economy was sliding toward the edge of a cliff. Home foreclosures and job layoffs dwarfed all other issues.

So where, you might ask, are the Right Direction/Wrong Track numbers, right now, in the midst of the Covid-19 Recession with the death count mounting each and every day and the very real possibility that a second Great Depression lies somewhere around the corner?

Of the seven major polls conducted between August 31 and September 15, the average Right Direction percentage was 27.1 and the average Wrong Track percentage was 66.1. You might not find these numbers comforting. How can it be that Trump’s right direction numbers are not down in the basement with Bush’s numbers? The country is certainly in worse shape now that it was then.

Good question! Let’s take a closer look.

First, George W. Bush was not a cult leader. By the end of his presidency, Democrats and Republicans were happy to see him go. Second, the nation was a lot less polarized than it is today. At least one-third of our friends, neighbors, co-workers, and family members prefer Donald Trump’s misdirection to any Democratic alternative. And that is a fact of life − a rather depressing fact of life.

No pre-election numbers, including Right Direction/Wrong Track, tell the whole story. What they don’t give us are the length and depth of the emotion behind the numbers. Donald Trump has dropped all pretense of leading the nation out of the downward spiral that he created. In defeating COVID, and reining in the chaotic economy, we are largely on our own. The kitchen table pain and suffering are widespread but largely invisible. The soup lines, bread lines, and welfare lines, displayed on the front pages of daily newspapers in the 1930s were gradually replaced by debit cards.

If I were able to design my own opinion poll, I would be asking the 66.1% who believe we are on the wrong track, two additional questions:

On a 10-point scale, with 10 being the highest, How scared are you?

And, on that same 10-point scale, how angry are you?

Only the election results will tell us for sure, but there are some signals. Last Friday, early voting began in Virginia. At voting places throughout the state, people showed up in unexpectedly high numbers. Some waited in line for as long four hours to cast their vote. At an early voting site in Arlington County, nearly as many people voted in the first hour as voted on the entire first day of early voting in 2016.

They came determined to vote. Many brought lawn chairs and food. Reports are that people were wearing masks and maintaining distancing of at least 6 feet. Since they clearly believe in science, we can safely assume they were not waiting to vote for Trump.

On the second day of voting in Fairfax County, Trump 2020 demonstrators showed up for no apparent reason other than to harass the people waiting to vote. I could not be happier. They created and will continue to create a brilliant contrast for all to see − on one hand, an army of peaceful, disciplined citizens determined to take back their government and on the other, a self-appointed militia, out for a bit of intimidating fun, performing for a man-god who wouldn’t be caught dead on a golf course with a single one of them.

Those raucous, self-amused performers can’t imagine the length and depth of the rage they fuel. They are faithful to the commander who ignored his generals because he was smarter than all of them. Mattis, McMaster, Kelly, what did they know? Mission, experience, expertise, discipline? Nothing compared to a genius who “always wins” by trusting his gut.

At the Democratic National Convention, a new general stepped forward and planted his flag for all of us. Joe Biden’s acceptance speech was close to perfect in both tone and substance. With the election now in progress, the speech should be shared with everyone we know, but especially with those who may decide that because of the long lines at the polls, their vote is not needed.

 Not everyone will bother to read or listen to the entire speech, so I have selected the lines that, for me, most cut to the chase. If these lines do not move the most cynical, most complacent, or laziest among us, we can consider those individuals hopeless, and move on to worthier citizens.

 

America is at an inflection point. A time of real peril, but of extraordinary possibilities.

We can choose the path of becoming angrier, less hopeful, and more divided.

A path of shadow and suspicion.

Or we can choose a different path, and together, take this chance to heal, to be reborn, to unite. A path of hope and light.

This is a life-changing election that will determine America's future for a very long time.

Character is on the ballot. Compassion is on the ballot. Decency, science, democracy.

They are all on the ballot.

Who we are as a nation. What we stand for. And, most importantly, who we want to be.

That's all on the ballot.

And the choice could not be clearer.

 

The choice could not be clearer. It is a choice between a man with a tyrant’s heart and a child’s brain or a man who understands that there is a soul of America and who is committed to its restoration.

It’s just that simple.

 

Bruce Coltin

Surviving Trump Two Minutes at a Time

 

THE NAME ON THE FRONT OF THE JERSEY

 Sometimes a scene from a movie can stay in my brain forever. Not many of them. Just a few. There is one scene from a 2004 movie that is as fresh in my mind today as it was when I first watched it. On the surface, the movie is about hockey. On another level, it is a video handbook on how to tap into human potential to obtain extraordinary results. It is a true story, told of course with some Hollywood creative touches.

Before getting to that scene, I need to provide some context.

Miracle on Ice tells the story of the USA’s victory over the Soviet team, which cleared the way for their gold medal victory over Finland in the 1980 Olympics. To say that the USA team were underdogs is a laughable understatement. The Soviet team was considered the best hockey team ever assembled. They were better than any professional team in the world, dispelling all doubt by beating an all-star team made up of professionals from the NHL.

The U.S. team was a collection of college kids, pursuing an impossible dream. You don’t have to be a sports fan to love a David and Goliath story. And this one is a classic for the ages − especially when you consider the political backdrop. The USSR was unquestionably our Cold War enemy and the US was living through a period of diminished stature on the world stage, epitomized by the Iran hostage crisis.

The Soviet government had poured unlimited resources into their quest to dominate international sports competition and the Soviet army knocked the free world on its heels by invading Afghanistan.

There are two main characters in this story. The first is the coach, Herb Brooks. The second is the entire team. (This may provide a clue as to where I am going with this.)

Herb Brooks carefully chose the players who would compete to make the team. He was criticized for omitting some of the best college players in the country. His answer: “I am not looking for the best players. I am looking for the right players.”

Herb believed he had figured out what no other coach had − how to beat the Soviets at their own game, first by being the aggressors for every minute on the ice and becoming physically and mentally conditioned enough to be able to do that. And then by devising specific strategies to instantly capitalize on every single opportunity − which meant learning to know each other so well that their situational response would become second nature.

And here is the final piece of my set-up.

Herb Brooks is meticulous. He knows each of his players like the back of his hand, and because of his perfect poker face combined with being a man of extremely few words, the players might have underestimated how thoroughly he knew each of them. So, when a player wants to address him, the player will skate over to the coach and announce his name and hometown. Herb will then ask, “Who do you play for?” The player will then respond with the name of his college.

And now, the scene.

The team is playing an exhibition game in Norway. To them it just an exhibition game. They are coasting to a tie with the Norwegian team. Players on the bench are joking with each other and eyeballing attractive girls who are watching the game from the stands.

A flicker of irritation shows itself on the man with the poker face. The game ends and as the players start to leave the ice to head to their locker room, Brooks instructs his assistant coach to keep the players on the ice. They are a cocky bunch and some of them are a bit indignant. They have plans for after the game and don’t want to be held up.

Brooks confronts his team: You don’t want to work during the game? No problem. You can work  now.

He instructs them to line-up, side by side, and skate hard across the rink, turn and skate hard coming back. This is the coach’s favorite conditioning drill, which the players sarcastically refer to as doing Herbies.

They complete the drill, then look to the coach for what comes next.

The man of extremely few words is angry. And that anger boils over as he informs his players that they are not the team they think they are:

You got to think about something else, each and every one of you. When you pull on that jersey, you represent yourself and your teammates. And the name on the front is a hell of a lot more important than the one on the back. Get that through your heads!

Again, he orders them across the rink and back. And then again. And again. After each exhausting drill, the players look to the coach for a sign that their punishment is over. Instead, they hear the dreaded word: AGAIN!

Anxious to go home, the rink manager turns off the lights. The players are now drilled in darkness. Brooks is merciless.

AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!

You think you can win on talent alone? Gentlemen, you do not have enough talent to win on talent alone.

AGAIN!

They are now beyond exhaustion. What they are doing can barely be called skating. Players are stumbling and falling. There is a pause in the action. Each of them is down on one knee or on both knees. They are gasping for air.

The team captain begins to speak, struggling to spit out the words: Mike Eruzione. Worcester, Massachusetts.

Coach Brooks turns and calmly addresses his player. Who do you play for?

Eruzione (still gasping for air): The United States of America.

Coach Brooks addresses the team: That will be all, gentlemen.

Mike Eruzione had figured it out. He was no longer playing for Boston University. He was selected for this team over more talented players because Brooks believed that Eruzione and the other players selected would ultimately understand that the name on the front of the jersey − Team USA − was a hell of lot more important than the player’s name on the back on the back of the jersey.  

The next day the two teams played another exhibition game. Team USA won 8 to 0 against the Norway National Team. It was not just Mike Eruzione who figured it out. They all did. And the rest is history.

No player knew Herb Brooks better than Rob McClanahan. Before playing for him on Team USA, he played for him in college at the University of Minnesota, and after the miracle on ice, he played for him in the National Hockey League, as a member of the New York Rangers.

In all that time, they were never friends. In his own words:

When he (Herb) passed away there were hundreds of players at his funeral and every one of them would tell you they'd play for him tomorrow. He was a winner and that's what you play sports for, but candidly, I was afraid of him.

They were all afraid of him. Throughout their history with the legendary coach, in McClanahan’s words: Fear was the constant.

And that statement might remind you of another “American” team.

Donald Trump has failed on an epic level. Donald Trump has committed numerous high crimes and misdemeanors. Donald Trump has vandalized every government agency within his power. Donald Trump has sought every opportunity to use his office to enrich himself, his family, and his friends. Donald Trump works tirelessly to turn his Americans against all other Americans.

And Donald Trump could not have done a fraction of this, were it not for the spectacular cowardice of the Republican Senate. From the moment Trump won the election, fear has been the one constant − fear of being mean tweeted, fear of being branded with a derogatory nickname, fear of being primaried by a more Trump-loyal Republican.

Herb Brooks explained the key to his recruiting: I looked for people first, athletes second. I wanted people with a sound value system as you cannot buy values. You’re only as good as your values. I learned early on that you do not put greatness into people…but somehow try to pull it out.

He began with a roster of 68 players that needed to be quickly reduced to 26. He started the process with a 300-word psychological test designed to find the players most coachable under his system, and who possessed the right values.

Republicans have been taking a values test since Trump’s first day in office. 23 Republican Senators will receive their test results in November, scored by the voters in their states. Enough of them are in danger of failing that the Party has been forced to play defense in states where they were comfortably playing offense just a few months ago.

Thanks to Trump’s crashing poll numbers, control of the Senate is now up for grabs.

The ex-Republican strategists behind The Lincoln Project have been skillfully attacking Trump with brilliant tv ads that use his own words and actions to highlight his incompetence. And now they have turned their attention to Republican candidates in states where Trumpism is on the decline.

The founders of the Lincoln Project have made their case blessedly simple. They were Republicans before the party surrendered its soul to Trump. They will likely join the future Republican party, but only after the current one is “burned to the ground.” They offer a simple choice to current Republicans: “Vote for Trump or vote for the country.”

Passing a values test while clinging to the coattails of a valueless leader is no easy trick − especially when that leader is famously vindictive to those who might be inclined to put country or principles first. To escape his wrath, it is best to be silent.

There are predictions that Trump enablers are waiting until just after Labor Day for a miraculous Trump turnaround before they cut the coattails and desperately try to rebrand themselves as true Republicans, dedicated to taking back their party and saving their state and their country from rampaging Socialists, otherwise known as Democrats.

Some of them will undoubtedly squeak by to win their election, but none will ever win back their reputation. How will they justify their silence to their American people? How will they rationalize their cowardly sycophancy while their country was being brought to its knees?

They chose their team. And, whether in or out of elected office, that jersey is on their backs forever. It is the jersey that can never come off. History will show no mercy.

Of course, there is still an opportunity for each of one of them to have his or her Mike Eruzione moment. But the game clock is fast running out.

With a Biden win, Democrats need to pick-up 3 seats to take back the Senate. Mathematically speaking, each contest is equally important. But because of the stature, personalities, and behavior of the incumbents, there are 3 contests that command attention.

Conventional wisdom says that Amy McGrath has little chance of dethroning Moscow Mitch in deep red Kentucky. In 2014, Mitch won reelection by a comfortable 14 percentage points. Pundits point out that though Mitch often appears vulnerable early in a race, he always manages to right the ship by election day.

This time around Anti-Mitch campaigns have asked a thought-provoking question: How is it that Mitch has grown extremely wealthy during his years in the Senate, while much of Kentucky remains mired in poverty? He has yet to offer an explanation. The question will continue to be asked, over and over again. Ignoring it will seem a lot like “taking the fifth.”

The latest Quinnipiac University poll shows McConnell leading McGrath by an uncomfortable margin of 49% to 44%.

Conventional wisdom also says that Lindsey Graham is unbeatable in deep red South Carolina. Graham won reelection in 2014 by 18 percentage points. Once upon a time, South Carolinians knew Lindsey as the hawkish sidekick to John McCain. The never apologetic ex-P.O.W. famously said about Vladimir Putin, “I looked into his eyes and saw three letters, a K, a G, and a B.”

McCain was Graham’s friend and mentor. Others, including George W. Bush, could be fooled by Putin’s act, but not John McCain. Russia was our enemy, pure and simple. Lindsey − the old Lindsey − would have agreed.

The new Lindsey would probably still agree but is now careful not to offend his golfing buddy who not only disparaged his friend and mentor, but for some yet to be revealed reason is totally owned by Vladimir Putin.

Quinnipiac now shows the new Lindsey tied with Jamie Harrison, at 44% each.

As for the Senate race in Maine, conventional wisdom is doing a bit of a tap dance, much like the incumbent herself. Mainers liked Susan Collins for her fierce independence. In 2014, she won reelection to a 4^th term by a whopping 68%.

But her fear of angering Tyrant Trump has turned her into an embarrassment. Reacting to Trump’s traitorous transgressions, she was famously “concerned,” or “disturbed.” Her response should have been nothing short of outrage. She voted not to convict the impeached president because she believed that he “has learned his lesson.” She does have a knack for punchlines.

Challenger, Sara Gideon is leading Collins 47% to 43%.

You already know what Herb Brooks thought of conventional wisdom. According to conventional wisdom, his team would be aiming high if they had set their sights on winning the bronze metal, but the silver, or the gold? What nonsense!

In the locker room before going on the ice to face the Soviets, he told his team that “great moments are born from great opportunity.”

The virus handed Trump a great opportunity. He took the stage with a team of experts and tried to act like a leader. Even that mediocre performance was enough to drive his poll numbers to his all-time high of 49%, with a realistic chance of going higher. A scared to death nation was ready to keep him in office.

But sharing the glory was a pill too bitter to swallow. It didn’t jive with his “I alone can fix it” bumper sticker motto. Those “so called experts” all needed to be fired or demoted, and of course, ridiculed. The name on the front of Donald Trump’s jersey is the same as the name on the back. It always was and always will be.

So, the game is on, Trump is finished, and I will of course be rooting hard for McConnell, Graham, and Collins to be rejected by the voters. But I will hold on to some degree of hope (Call me crazy!) that they will use their influence and their voices to demand a free and fair election and once the results are in − win or lose − will stand up for Democracy and the rule of law.

After all, miracles have been known to happen.

 

Bruce Coltin

Surviving Trump Two Minutes at a Time

 

A SHOCK TO THE SYSTEM − ANTIBIGOTRY IS ALL THE RAGE!

We suspected that the election of Trump would be damaging to the nation and would, at the end of four years, require an extensive clean-up, but no one could have predicted the absolute wreckage resulting from the election of a man dumber and more malicious than we could ever have imagined.

It is almost impossible to fully absorb the current reality of pandemic, recession, and social revolution, replacing the pre-Trump complacency where so many of us lived our lives.

The marches and demonstrations in our streets have been surprisingly multi-racial, multi-generational, and even bipartisan. Polls tell us that 87% of Democrats, 76% of independents, and 53% of Republicans say they support the demonstrations, which have now taken place in more than 2,000 cities and towns across the U.S.

In a recent Monmouth University poll, 76% of Americans, including 71% of white people, called racism and discrimination “a big problem” in the United States. That’s an amazing 26-point jump since 2015!

It was not so long ago that Republicans announced, after a lot of soul searching, that they needed to become a big tent party. I guess it had something to do with their inability to attract the fast-growing base of black and brown voters, as we move steadily and irreversibly toward becoming a majority-minority nation.

The GOP had always been able to come up with the occasional black senator and a sprinkling of black congressional reps. Heck, they even got a black guy appointed to the highest court in the land. Of course, that achievement came at the expense of a young, black woman.

The televised inquisition of Anita Hill, by a tribunal of powerful white men, otherwise known as the Senate Judiciary Committee, was for many of us an agonizing spectacle. The gang of bullies in business suits decided that she would be dismissed, discredited, and humiliated, so that they could get their Conservative black nominee confirmed.

We wondered which one of them would stand up and say: Enough of this badgering. She is not on trial here!

None would answer that call. Not even the Liberal “Lion of the Senate,” Ted Kennedy, self-silenced by sexual harassment issues of his own. Not even the Democratic chair of that committee, Joe Biden, who blocked female witnesses from testifying on her behalf.

Joe called Anita Hill to apologize, but he did it 28 years too late, when he decided to run for president. Reporters were eager to learn how the apology was received. She reported that she was “unsatisfied” by the belated apology. She did not forgive him, but if nominated, she would vote for him. She added that she believes in the ability of people to change.

One party did change. The other party − not so much.

Anita Hill lost her battle to keep Clarence Thomas, the man she accused of sexually harassing her, off the Supreme Court, but her quiet courage inspired women to run for political office, most notably Carol Moseley Braun, the first black woman ever elected to the Senate, who said that she “seethed” at the treatment of Anita Hill.  

Christine Blasey Ford did not win her battle to keep the man she accused of molesting her, Brett Kavanaugh, off the Supreme Court, but she faced a more evolved Judiciary Committee − at least on the Democratic side. Kavanaugh did not get a Clarence Thomas free pass, in large part because the stars of this hearing were four women who skillfully grilled Kavanaugh with sharply pointed questions − Diane Feinstein, Amy Klobuchar, Mazie Hirono, and Kamala Harris.

Each of them exposed his unwillingness to answer direct questions, but it was the unrelenting, prosecutorial questioning by Kamala Harris, the only black woman in the Senate and the only black women, other than Carol Moseley Braun, ever elected to the Senate, that made him squirm in his seat and look like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

Kamala delivered the same brand of tough questioning to Jeff Sessions and Bill Barr in their confirmation hearings, but some of us think that in her bareknuckle treatment of Kavanaugh, she was delivering some degree of poetic justice for Anita Hill.

Thanks to a Republican majority, a damaged Kavanaugh was finally confirmed. Donald Trump, ever the optimist, believed that the Kavanaugh confirmation would excite his base and put Republicans over the top in the midterm elections. Instead, it drove more “seething” women to the polls, resulting in a democratic landslide that returned the House to Nancy Pelosi.

We learned from the presidential election of 2016, and again from the midterm elections of 2018 that accurately predicting the outcome of an election means correctly interpreting the poll numbers and correctly gauging voter enthusiasm.

Pundits blew it both times.

As Trump continues to fail one leadership test after another, his poll numbers drop among every category of likely voters, except his most loyal supporters, who would follow him off a cliff, congregate at Covid-rallies, and possibly drink bleach.

So much for the polls, but what about that enthusiasm factor? Does the shrinking number of Trump supporters and the growing number of anti-Trumpers assure that we will not have a repeat of 2016, when the Trump campaign threaded the needle through three swing states to give him the electoral college victory?

The honest answer is that he probably or almost certainly can’t pull it off again, because he can’t recreate the improbable set of conditions that enabled his miracle win. But who among us can rest easy in these few months before the most critical election of our lifetimes, without seeking out every available advantage?

The streets of America are teeming with energy, but just how much of that energy will translate to votes? And is it possible that a portion of those marchers and demonstrators believe that the anti-establishment statement they are making, which is already yielding practical results on police reform, makes their vote in November seem unimportant and unnecessary?

Between potential voter flakiness from some Democrats and certain voter suppression coming from Republicans, we sure could use some election insurance. Fortunately, we already have it.

Fact: Since the election of F.D.R. in 1932, black voters have been the most reliable Democratic voter group, by far. No other voter group even comes close. Since Lyndon Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act in 1965, no Republican presidential candidate has gotten more than 15% of the black vote.

In 2016, 91% of black voters showed up for Hillary − more than double any other voter group. 81% of black men voted for Hillary and only 14% voted for Trump.

Not bad, very impressive, except when you consider that 98% of black women voted for Hillary. In urban, suburban, and rural America, the grassroots, home-based, get-out-the vote organizations belong to black women. They work the phones and drive others to the polls. They apply peer pressure to those who, for whatever reason, may not feel like going to the polls on election day.

Doug Jones’ victory over Roy Moore in deep red Alabama was a monumental upset that happened only because black women made it happen.

Joe Biden’s political resurrection in the South Carolina Primary started with the passionate endorsement by Jim Clyburn, but it succeeded only because black women took those marching orders and went to work.

But, here’s the problem, and it’s a big one.

When black voters turn out at Obama level numbers, Democrats win. When they don’t, Democrats and Republicans are on close to equal footing.

In 2008, with Barack Obama on the ballot, 74% of eligible black women voted. In 2012, with Obama’s reelection on the line, 75% showed up. But, in 2016, despite strong campaigning for Hillary, by Barack Obama and Michelle Obama, just 66% of black women went to the polls.

Even with Obama in the White House, Democrats lost the House in the 2010 midterms and the Senate in the 2014 midterms. Black voters only turned out for Obama in overwhelming numbers when Obama, himself, was actually on the ballot − not when only Obama's policies were on the ballot. 

The current multi-racial, multi-generational, bi-partisan demand for racial justice has settled the question of whether Joe Biden’s running mate must be a black woman.

The only question remaining is: Which one will it will be?

Barring a surprise, she will be one of the “short-list four” − Kamala, Val, Stacey, or Susan Rice. But changes happen fast these days − really fast − and I would not count out two Democratic superstars − mayors Keisha Lance Bottoms of Atlanta and Muriel Bowser of Washington D.C.

With federal leadership, under the Trump-McConnell regime, missing in action, cities, more and more, have been left to solve nationwide problems on their own, and have become the major battlegrounds of social change.

The issue of police reform is a hot potato issue. Both mayors have displayed real leadership, as they deal with critics on their right, who accuse them of overreach by going too far, and critics on their left, who accuse them of “betraying the cause” by not going far enough. Both women have shined under the hot lights of the national stage.

My prediction is that Joe Biden will pick the right woman.

He will need a partner who will be to him what he was to Barack Obama. No one is more qualified to choose that partner than he is, and no one will reward him more than the black women who know how to guarantee an election victory, and who will be unstoppable when one of their own is put in position to make history.

On the day that she is sworn in as vice president, Joe Biden just might call Anita Hill one last time to again offer his apology. If, as President of the United States, he still feels the need to make that call, it will affirm what we know about his character.

Anita Hill is a woman of few words. If those words include: Joe, I accept your apology, the Joe we know will likely have a tear in his eye. It’s okay to admit that you miss that in a president. 

I know I do.

Bruce Coltin

Surviving Trump Two Minutes at a Time

  

WHY TRUMP HAS A BAD CASE OF BIDEN DERANGEMENT SYNDROME

Before the Democratic primaries and caucuses began, there was a loud and persistent warning coming from the Progressive wing of the Democratic Party. The warning was (and still is) that nominating a Moderate would mean four more years of Donald Trump. 

The reasoning behind this warning goes like this:

Hillary was a Moderate and that is why she lost in 2016.

Democrats and Independents will not turnout in winning numbers, in November, without a candidate that generates real excitement.

To successfully generate real excitement, the Democratic nominee would have to be a candidate who offers real structural change, not just restoration and improvement of Obama’s policies.

In other words, the Democratic Party needs to wake up to the reality that only Bernie can beat Trump.

The small but very vocal gang of “Absolutely Nobody But Bernie” (which no longer includes Bernie) are angry because Bernie − who was never a Democrat − was denied the nomination by the Democratic Party. In 2016, Bernie got screwed by the Hillary wing, and now he is being screwed by the Biden wing.

So, to right this wrong, the gang members believe it to be totally acceptable to throw mud and muddy logic at Joe Biden, the president-in-waiting, with the hope that he will be forced to step aside, making way for Bernie to take his place.

They do their best to convince the most gullible among us that there is no daylight between Donald Trump and Joe Biden − that they are both totally owned by big business, both cognitively impaired, and both sexual predators.

They do their best to scare us with the threat that, because there is no real difference between these two men, they will happily go to the polls and punish the corrupt Democratic Party by casting their votes for Donald Trump.

Perhaps they are bluffing, but I take them at their word. They are every bit as angry and single-minded as hardcore MAGAs. They do, however, have a right to be disappointed. With Bernie's momentum coming out of the Iowa and Nevada caucuses and the New Hampshire primary, and Biden finishing as an “also ran,” the Bernie gang could taste the nomination.

Not only could they taste it, but so could Donald Trump, the king of branding, who licked his chops at the prospect of running against a Socialist.

After those early contests, the eulogies for Joe Biden’s political career filled cable news shows and the opinion pages. A good man, who served us well, but not what the times so desperately demand.

Pundits suggested that, like it or not, Bernie’s time had finally arrived. He needed only to outlast Pete, Amy, and “traitor” Liz, and then deal with another faux Democrat, billionaire Bloomberg. Because of so much delegate splitting, it just might go all the way to a brokered convention, where Bernie, the fundraising maestro, would arrive flush with cash and delegates, and demand the nomination which of course would rightfully be his.

Meanwhile, the pundits rushed to explain Joe’s spectacular reversal of fortune:

Biden’s longtime position at the top of the national polls, they said, was due to millions of likely voters temporarily “parking” their votes with him until one of the other candidates proved his or her ability to beat Trump. Biden’s support was a mile wide, but an inch deep. The Biden campaign’s archaic fundraising machine would be flat broke before Super Tuesday, and unable to successfully compete for that delegate-rich jackpot.

After a long accomplished career, culminating with his successful vice-presidency under Barack Obama, the time had come to present Uncle Joe with a gold watch, thank him for his years of service, and focus attention on the truly viable contenders.

But, not so fast!

To paraphrase Mark Twain, rumors of Biden’s death were greatly exaggerated.

One small problem was awaiting every primary candidate not named Biden: The Black vote. No Democratic candidate can win the nomination without it, and from the very beginning, the Black vote stayed loyal to Biden.

And it never budged.

We will never know for sure if South Carolina would have gone as big for Biden, had it not been for Jim Clyburn’s wholehearted endorsement. But Joe’s humble and gracious victory speech, standing next to Clyburn, and acknowledging that he (Jim) “carried this campaign on his shoulders” gave us a revealing glimpse into the character of those two friends.

And while still facing the daunting challenge of the Super Tuesday primaries, to have his two middle lane opponents, Pete Buttigieg and Amy Klobuchar unexpectedly and unselfishly suspend their campaigns and so passionately endorse the man who had just recently been given up for dead, spoke volumes.

I don’t know about you, but the powerful messaging of these dramatic endorsements, from former rivals − contenders for the prize − was nothing like any that I can remember. What stood out was Joe’s genuineness − gratitude, humility, and sincere praise for the quality of their campaigns and deep understanding of the sacrifice each was making.

With just the hint of a tear in his eye, Joe made it perfectly clear: They are the future. He was the bridge.

What a strange spectacle in the age of Trump! How incomprehensible it must have been to our narcissistic sociopath! How demoralizing to the Bernie Bros who were counting on the overcrowding of the Moderate lane to clear the way for their guy!

Not to be left out of the lovefest, Beto O’Rourke showed up and gave his own rousing endorsement. It was the kind of straight from the gut speech that helped bring longshot Beto painfully close to replacing Ted Cruz in the U.S Senate.

You might think to yourself: Well this is all quite heartwarming, but with so much at stake, are such displays of softness really what we need to slay the monster? To which, my answer would be a resounding YES. This is precisely the kind of monster-slayer that the times demand − a warrior who does not constantly need to beat his chest, pump his fist, or take a bow, and who is unafraid to reveal his soul.

Speaking of bridges to the future:

For Donald Trump and his MAGAs, the only acceptable bridge is one that leads to four more years of his disastrous, sociopathic presidency.

For the desperate Bernie zealots, the only acceptable bridge means destroying Biden and demanding that he be replaced by Bernie − just in time for the election. Of course, Trump will do everything possible to pit Progressives against Moderates with his own Bernie Got Screwed campaign.

For the moment, the objectives of those two gangs are in perfect alignment. Their mud throwing will be relentless. You can count on it!

Thankfully, enough voters have already made up their minds − especially important in the states where it matters most.

The Great Trump Death Toll and the Great Trump Depression will not be confined to New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and other deep blue states. Massive death and job loss are finding their way to families, communities, and districts in and around small-town America − formerly referred to as Trump Country. 

The guy they have always trusted to level with them, look out for them, listen to them, and understand them is Regular Joe − an old school politician, of the best kind, whose nature is to always speak to them, not at them.

Donald Trump knows deep in his bones that he is a phony and that Joe is the real deal. He flies into a rage when his own pollsters have the unenviable job of walking into the oval office to deliver the news that “Sleepy Joe” beats him in the battleground states.

Donald Trump has committed a long list of critical mistakes which singularly or collectively should have ended his presidency. But there was one mistake which, I believe, will prove most fatal − a mistake that was unavoidable, because of an essential quality that he does not possess and cannot comprehend.

Donald Trump is devoid of humanity, and because he has successfully banned it from his administration, he believes that Americans don’t miss it and don’t yearn for it.

Seeing his presidency slip sliding away, Trump continues to come unglued. Did he really suggest drinking or injecting bleach? Of course he did. My own amateur diagnosis is Biden Derangement Syndrome − for which there is currently no known cure.

The moment he is sworn in as president, Joe Biden will begin presiding over the greatest national rescue mission of our lifetime. To succeed, he will need to put country before party, accomplishment before ego, expertise before cronyism, and team before self.

Fortunately, the job description and the man are a perfect fit.

For now, let’s all do our best to ignore the ugliness, which is sure to get worse. We will hear a steady chorus of Joe is this and Joe did that and Bernie got screwed and it was Obama’s fault and the mounting death toll is actually a great victory and Trump will restore the economy and make it even better than it was and…well you get the drift.

So, for now, stay strong, stay focused, and try to spread some realistic optimism. For all of us, surviving Trump has never been harder. Someone out there might need you to carry them over the finish line.

Bruce Coltin

Surviving Trump Two Minutes at a Time