Phil Reisman: Gov. Christie's sweater is at the cleaners
For two Sundays in a row we were subjected to candid TV shots of New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie canoodling with Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones.
But here's something to cheer about: This Sunday we will be mercifully spared because "America's team," having lost to the Green Bay Packers, has been mothballed for the rest of the winter as has the lucky orange sweater that made the plus-sized governor resemble a giant killer tomato.
The act was rapidly getting stale. Had the Cowboys gone on a roll, the awkward man hugs and high fives likely would have continued all the way to the Super Bowl, setting up the revolting possibility of a halftime wardrobe malfunction involving the sweater.
Christie was pummeled in the press. The Trentonian, the newspaper of record in the New Jersey state capital, comically Photoshopped him as a blonde Dallas cheerleader in a front-page story that included the headline, "Texass." Conspiracy theories were floated that he was kissing up to Jones, an eccentric rich guy, to further his presidential aspirations.
The governor's brother, Todd, was incensed by the public outcry.
Ranting on Facebook, Todd wrote, "To all those non Cowboy fans who have their panties in a ringer because the Governor of NJ is a Cowboys fan — GET A LIFE!!! The Gov has been a Cowboys fan for his entire life and ALL of you would sit with the owner of your favorite team in a heartbeat if given the chance."
The caps, the punctuation points — wow. Todd truly rocks. Indeed, one gets the feeling that if Christie were ever elected president, Todd would quickly merit membership in an exclusive club of first bros, a roundtable of treasured luminaries that includes Billy Carter, Roger Clinton, Ed Nixon and Sam Houston Johnson. A couple of pops spiked with truth serum and it's easy to imagine how Todd might cough up the real story behind Bridgegate.
Christie probably took more abuse than he deserved. After all, there's nothing new here. The practice of sitting in the catbird seat at popular sporting events goes back to the days of the Roman Colosseum, where the best seats were reserved for the emperor, his pals and a bevy of Vestal Virgins.
It was one big toga party. If anybody in the peanut gallery complained about it, they were just thrown to the lions and that was the end of it.
But a populist strain runs through the American body politic. And nothing brings it out faster than politicians who take freebies in the owner's box.
They do so at their own peril — especially if they root for a hated, out-of-state rival like the Dallas Cowboys. It's a third rail of politics.
Even rooting for the "right" team can backfire. Andy Spano found this out when, just a few months before the Westchester County executive election, he and his top aide, Larry "The Brain" Schwartz, were photographed at a Yankee game, sitting in premium seats behind home plate. This was at the height of the Great Recession and it made him look like an insensitive fat cat.
Spano lost the election to Rob Astorino, by the way. Had he been rooting for the Red Sox, he might've been impeached.
The Christie lampooning was reminiscent of the 2014 New York gubernatorial campaign when Astorino was ridiculed for being a fan of the Miami Dolphins. The Erie County Democratic Committee ran a commercial showing him posed on the field at Sun Life Stadium in Miami, wearing a Dolphins shirt, which was a sacrilege to not one, but two fan bases — the Bills and Jets. They even airbrushed his young son out of the photo in case anyone got the wrong idea that going to a football game was merely an innocent family pastime.
Astorino was eventually caught on camera in the Dolphins owner's suite. But that was a week after the election, which he lost.
Spano must have felt his pain.
Reach Phil Reisman at preisman@lohud.com. Twitter: @philreisman