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Sidelines
Kalani Simpson
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Elections play out a lot like sports
WE in sports media like to say, cynically, that every Saturday night is like election night for us. Which isn't quite true, really. But you get the point.
And so it's pretty much impossible for someone in my position NOT to look at Saturday night's election coverage as one giant sports telecast.
It had it all. "Expert" commentators sitting at a desk like Charles Barkley. "Sideline reporters." People shouting in the background. Beef stew and rice. Musicians.
"Was that person wearing antlers?" my wife said after one crowd shot.
I was expecting a bunch of Mazie supporters to shout out, "We love Rob on Blitz 4!"
Who else thought Neil Abercrombie was just one more "Yeah!" away from dumping a cooler over someone's head?
It's hard not to go rah-rah when you cover sports. You're not supposed to do that in the news business, of course. But you find yourself almost whispering questions to those who have just lost a tough one. After a big game it could be easy to be swept away.
But politics -- I found myself talking to the screen at some anchors, at times: "Why don't you just tell us who you voted for?"
One opined that Jerry Coffee was a great American, "especially in times like these." Another anchor seemed almost ready to cry after Ed Case's concession speech.
One I-can't-believe-I'm-talking-to-Linda-Lingle interview: How did the governor wage such a "successful" campaign?
(Um ... she was virtually unopposed -- although the guy who filled out his Star-Bulletin voter's guide survey by saying he has "a great body and a sparkling personality" did get .66 percent of the vote.)
Coaches complain about our sports questions. How about asking, on election night, "What's your strategy?" I heard that at least three times. "What's your strategy?"
("Uh, you know the voting is pau, yeah? We're just waiting for them to count the votes. We can't do anything now. My strategy is to sit in the back room and get an ulcer.")
Still, I loved it all. (Can you imagine Jim Gray handling it better? No.) I love the political-science professors, stars for a night every two years. "What do these numbers tell us?" the anchors ask. "I don't really know," the professors say. In sports we don't know anything either. It's refreshing to hear.
In the end, I think we're right. The elections are just one giant high school football Friday night. I know this because of what Senator Akaka did. When it was over, he stood up in front of his supporters, and he sang.