KENTUCKY’S
KING
got out of the minor leagues. He’d
been an unremarkable representative in the House, best known on
Capitol Hill for his acerbic blather
and combative disposition.
McConnell, however, saw
someone he could steer to victory. “He was practically the campaign manager for Bunning in that
race,” says Dave Hansen, a GOP
campaign manager who served
as political director of the NRSC
in the 1990s. The senator sent
his top men to aid Bunning. Kyle
Simmons, his chief of staff, took
a leave of absence to become the
Bunning campaign coordinator.
Tim Thomas, McConnell’s field
representative for Western Kentucky, took personal leave to volunteer for the Senate hopeful.
But the senator was more than
just a careful stage manager. He
was the campaign’s pivotal instigator. In August 1998, McConnell
took the stage at the annual Fancy
Farm Picnic in Western Kentucky
and delivered a speech that would
define the contentious race between Bunning and Baesler.
The colorful, open-collar
campaigning at Fancy Farm, a
state-fair-sized festival, is a rarity in contemporary American
retail politics. Typically, stump
HUFFINGTON
08.11.13
“HE’S INTENSE. IT’S ALMOST
SINGLE-MINDED INTENSITY.
I’M NOT BEING CRITICAL
OF IT. THAT’S WHY EVERYBODY
GOT BEAT BY THE GUY.”
speeches are choreographed for
the press, their audiences stacked
with enthusiastic supporters. But
at Fancy Farm, those running for
office are expected to tailor their
speech to the setting and let it
rip under the ceiling fans. It’s as
much a comedic roast as it is a political rally.
“It’s kind of this throwback,”
Hansen explains. “Candidates get
up there, and they make the most
outrageous comments to stir people up.”
McConnell gave Bunning a clinic
in his ruthless approach to campaigning at the Fancy Farm event.
The Republicans coordinated vicious speeches targeting Baesler’s
status as a founding member of
the Blue Dogs — a caucus o