Watch out, Trump: Walz shows he's not just Minnesota nice

CHICAGO — Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz wants to be America’s coach.

In his primetime convention speech Wednesday, Democrats pitched Kamala Harris’ vice presidential pick as the straight-talking coach, Midwestern neighbor and “the guy who will dig you out of a snowbank,” as a former student described him. It’s the kind of biography, rare in today’s Democratic Party, that the Harris campaign hopes will help them cut into Donald Trump’s lead with male voters and close the historically large gender gap.

Famous already for calling Republicans “weird,” Walz embraced his role as Harris’ chief attack dog, the traditional role for a running mate, refinishing the Harris campaign’s “freedom” messaging with a Midwestern gloss. And he showed no indication that “Minnesota-nice” would keep him from the task.

“In Minnesota, we respect our neighbors and the personal choices they make, and even if we wouldn’t make those same choices for ourselves, we’ve got a golden rule: Mind your own damn business,” Walz said, referring to GOP efforts to roll back abortion rights. “Some folks just don’t understand what it takes to be a good neighbor.”

Much of Walz’s 17-minute speech, laced with football metaphors, centered on his background, tracking him from small-town Nebraska to social studies teacher in Minnesota, National Guardsman to congressman and governor.

Walz, who rocketed from relative obscurity to running mate in two weeks, acknowledged he hasn’t “given a lot of big speeches like this.” He betrayed this, at times, by stepping on his own applause lines while plowing ahead with his remarks. Instead, he leaned on his coach persona.

“I have given a lot of pep talks,” he said.

For many voters, Walz is still largely unknown, making the biographical details even more central to his speech, according to campaign aides granted anonymity to discuss strategy. He’s an unlikely Democratic superstar in today’s era: He grew up in a rural, Nebraska community with a graduating class of 24 students. He taught social studies for more than 20 years before he ran for Congress. A former football coach who served in the Army National Guard, he’s the first Democrat since Jimmy Carter who joined the party’s ticket without law school experience.

The party has embraced him. As he took the stage Wednesday night, delegates waved signs emblazoned with “Coach Walz” and cut-outs of his face, making Walz visibly emotional.

Walz, “the dad in plaid,” as fellow Minnesotan Sen. Amy Klobuchar described him in her introduction, represents a strikingly different version of masculinity than put up by Republicans at their convention earlier this month, when wrestling star Hulk Hogan ripped off his shirt on stage.

Before Walz took the stage, players he coached at Mankato West High School — now grown adults — marched out on stage in their red and white jerseys as a fight song played in the background. An introductory video that followed — which included a photo montage of Walz coaching in the 1990s — also told the story of Walz serving as the faculty adviser for his school’s Gay-Straight Alliance. Having the school’s football coach back the GSA sent a message, Walz said in a voice over, nodding to a more nuanced type of masculinity that Democrats are embracing.

“They saw in me what I had hoped to instill in them, a commitment to the common good,” Walz said of his students. “The belief that a single person can make a real difference for their neighbors.”

Walz framed reproductive health as not just a women’s issue, describing his family’s own struggles with infertility. As he spoke, cameras cut to Walz’s son, Gus, who was crying and mouthing, “That’s my dad.”

Walz leaned into the parts of his biography that don’t read “traditional Democrat.” He argued that while he’s a veteran, a hunter and “a better shot than most Republicans in Congress” with “the trophies to prove it,” he’s “also a dad,” alluding to when he lost his “A” rating from the National Rifle Association in the aftermath of the Parkland High School shooting in Florida.

“I believe in the Second Amendment, but I also believe our first responsibility is to keep our kids safe,” he said.

Party leaders see those traits as working in their favor, helping to make the woman-led Democratic ticket come off as more down-to-earth, relatable and perhaps even palatable to men who had gravitated toward Trump’s macho appeal.

Harris “chose the person she thought was right, and he happened to be a guy that stood in 10 degree weather in a deer stand,” Klobuchar told POLITICO ahead of the speech. “I don’t think that's the only way you bring in men, by any means, but I think she made, sort of, an independent, strong choice on her own.”

Kansas Gov. Laura Kelly, who represents a rural, red state, said her advice to Harris was to “send Tim Walz everywhere.”

Football references aside, it’s not clear that the attempted branding of Harris’ running mate will help close a gender gap. Although women have historically favored Democratic candidates and men Republicans, surveys show that the divide is even wider than it was in 2016 and 2020. A July New York Times/Siena College poll showed Harris with a 14-point lead over Trump among likely female voters (55% to 41%), with Trump at a 17-point lead among men (56% to 39%) — making for a net 31-point gender gap.

But there’s hope within the Democratic Party that the gender imbalance was specific to President Joe Biden, who voters viewed as old and not capable of serving another four years in office, playing right into the GOP framing of the race as “strength versus weakness.” The Harris-Walz ticket, Democrats believe, presents an opportunity to reset the dynamics of the race.

“People across the country are learning what I know — that he’s a dad, and a teacher, and a coach and a veteran,” said Minnesota Lt. Gov. Peggy Flanagan.

“He literally bought Doritos for the vice president,” Flanagan said, citing a viral video of Walz picking up Doritos for Harris at a Sheetz gas station during their swing through western Pennsylvania. “He always brings me snacks to meetings, like, that is his whole vibe.”

Although the campaign is leaning on Walz’s dad-like affability, that didn’t stop him from going after the Republican ticket.

Walz ripped into Republicans for their support of “Project 2025,” insisting that he “coached football long enough to know — and trust me on this — when someone takes the time to draw up a playbook, they’re going to use it.”

He joked that no one from his small town high school class went to Yale — a dig at Trump’s running mate, Yale Law grad JD Vance — and he described the Republican platform as “an agenda that nobody asked for.”

But he ended the night on perhaps a more familiar tone, delivering what felt like more of a half-time pep talk on the sidelines of a football field than a political speech to an audience of millions.

“Let me finish with this, team. It’s the fourth quarter. We’re down a field goal. But we’re on offense and we’ve got the ball,” Walz said, as the crowd roared with cheers. “And boy, do we have the right team.”