THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, July 23, 1995 TAG: 9507230044
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
SOURCE: PAUL SOUTH
LENGTH: Medium: 65 lines
It was a politician's dream.
A large crowd gathers in the sweltering July sun.
``There he is!'' someone says, and quickly he's in the middle of a mob. They put out their hands, some holding scraps of paper, others just reaching out to touch him. Children and grown men wear baseball hats and T-shirts bearing his name.
The scene has the crackle and spark of a first-rate political rally - the candidate surrounded by adoring supporters.
But the object of adulation is no political candidate. Dale Earnhardt, NASCAR champion, is slowly working his way through the joyful throng at the Manteo waterfront.
The arrival of Jim Hunt, governor of the state of North Carolina, brings a small ripple of applause. Earnhardt, now on the platform, is signing autographs for state and local officials.
As the state's chief executive strides toward the podium, a man in the crowd says: ``I see Earnhardt. But what does the governor look like?''
Earnhardt's appearance at the launching of a new ferryboat upstaged the state's chief executive, but Hunt was unruffled. The simple truth is, politicians love athletes. In fact, it's becoming more and more evident that most politicians are wannabe athletes, and athletes are wannabe politicians.
Charles Barkley, the all-world forward of the Phoenix Suns, says his post-NBA ambition is to be governor of Alabama. And it seems that every time you turn around, Bill Clinton is posing with the NCAA champions of this sport or that.
That's no different from many of us. In Alabama, many boys dream of becoming football All-Americans, North Carolina boys dream of sinking a game-winning basket for Dean Smith, or winning the Daytona 500.
Athletes do wonderful things for political candidates. In an era that finds political figures held at the same level of esteem as that of mass-murderers and reporters, jocks deliver large adoring throngs of people. It makes for great photos, and great copy.
In a way, it's a shame that candidates use only big-time athletes to share the spotlight.
We'd love to see a pol appear on the podium with one of the crab-picking artists at Mattamuskeet Seafood in Engelhard. The folks there can pick a crab clean in seconds - so I'm told - and on top of that, they raise families and juggle budgets. Those ladies have quick and gentle hands to rival those of Brooks Robinson.
Or how about the skateboarders in Kitty Hawk? They work magic with air and wheels and boards, flying and turning with breath-taking ease. Michael Jordan has nothing on these kids.
And don't forget the folks who pore over the bingo cards on Thursday nights at the Nags Head Fire Department. They know numbers better than any big-league manager.
Or better yet, politicians could hang out with those big beefy guys at the Highland Games near Grandfather Mountain. You know, the ones who toss telephone poles long distances for fun. A word of caution candidates: In the interest of good taste, skip the kilts.
The point is this: Politicians may like the glitter and gargantuan crowds that a big name jock can bring. But what really matters is folks. Just plain folks.
That's supposed to be what democracy's about. Right? by CNB