Sidelines
September, 2002: Here we stand, on the brink of a possible miracle No. 3. He did it, he actually did it. Then along came Jones
June Jones ran for governor.
In a bold, stunning move, the University of Hawaii coach cast his clipboard into the ring in late January of 2002, while still sucking on the bitter defeat of six wins but no bowl invitation.
At first it was widely believed to be a joke. Was he fishing for compliments? Simply contemplating out loud, Jordan-like, about the possibility of a "new challenge"? Having a nervous breakdown?
No one knew for sure at first.
"Hey, the T-shirts are already out there," Jones said.
A classic cryptic non-denial. Was he being serious?
But then he filed the papers and the money men sprang into action as the three major candidates -- Jeremy Harris, Mazie Hirono and Linda Lingle -- were stunned. They had been in the midst of squabbling over who was or wasn't for or against education, or who had or hadn't agreed with Ben Cayetano, or which of them had or hadn't officially been a friend of Cayetano's, but had or hadn't disagreed with him vehemently behind the scenes.
And so in the thick of this fracas, Jones was a refreshing beacon of hope.
He got a running start -- the other candidates didn't know what hit them. They couldn't say anything bad about the man who had come back from the dead twice, first figuratively, then literally. This had never happened before. The initial interest would have to die down, they thought. The man was a football coach, not a politician.
How little they knew about football.
Jones made the rounds, touring the state with the "Jone-mobile" in tow. The crumpled car was an awe inspiring metaphor as the coach spoke in basic black and sunglasses:
"This was our football program," he said, gesturing at the heap to his left. "But we rebuilt it again. This was my life," he said, pausing now for the emotion to sink in. "But here I am.
"This is our state's economy," he said, gesturing again, and the crowd held its breath.
"But we can win again, we can walk again, we can live again!"
The crowd went nuts, ready to take on BYU, or at least reach for its checkbook.
The "Vote for a Man with a Game Plan" tour continued, Jones greeting crowds to his "I Will Survive" theme song at each stop. The sign wavers were out. His face was on television at the top of the news and then again in sports. He was starting to become a significant presence in the polls.
And so of course the skeletons came out. The mud flew. The attack dogs attacked.
According to his own bio, Jones seems to have played college football for six years -- surely an NCAA violation, if not an outright call for campaign finance reform.
He has admitted to not wearing a seat belt on more than one occasion. He inflicted that hideous "H" on Hawaii. And could you really entrust our state government to a man who doesn't believe in the tight end?
As a result of these allegations, the Jones campaign's momentum stalled.
But a win in the first game could definitely give him a big bump in the polls. With the primary election just days away, Jones is staying "on message."
"Let me call the plays for you," he said.
Kalani Simpson's column runs Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays.
He can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com