Rules of Engagement: Tone Setters

The press need not play by the rules of the most powerful politician in the state. But maybe I'm built different.

You might not know I covered Ohio State football in a past life.

After a while in the trenches, it became clear how the university used credentials to keep media outlets in line. Press conferences featuring multimillionaire coaches were never antagonistic. Ultimately, none of the ordained outlets want to maim or kill the golden goose.

I laugh sometimes when I think about what the Woody Hayes Athletic Center would have looked like if it had been open to the public, like the Statehouse. There’s a reason it’s not, though. And it probably says something unflattering about our society.

Members of the Lunatic Fringe would have psychologically damaged Ryan Day on his way to the coffee machine after that fourth consecutive loss to Michigan.

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That’s why I see the Statehouse as such a golden opportunity. As I’ve written before, I don’t need or want to become credentialed media. I don’t need to be ordained to do my job.

I understand that my business model distinguishes me from traditional media members and that those in power will never respect me or give me an exclusive interview. It’s fine; they’re not my target audience.

But it perturbs me how the traditional media allows politicians to set the tone on them in a public building.

Yesterday was a perfect example.

Speaker Matt Huffman (R-Lima) chaired the Rules and References Committee in Room 119, a galaxy away from his usual perch as the leader of the House of Representatives. I knew he’d have to leave that room at some point, and it’d be a long way to any restricted area.

After the short committee hearing, Huffman walked into the hallway and faced an assembled gaggle featuring almost every Statehouse reporter of note. His predecessor, former Speaker Jason Stephens (R-Kitts Hill), routinely met with reporters after Rules & Reference Committee meetings.

That apparently won’t be the case under Huffman, who is arguably the most powerful politician in the state. A couple of reporters asked him nicely to field questions. One did the proper reporter thing and blurted out a question about his stance on the latest bipartisan effort to repeal the death penalty.

Huffman said he “wasn’t prepared” and that there’d be no gaggle today. And then he walked off through a public building.

I never agreed to that arrangement, so I went after Huffman to bus this ass about the recently enacted “Rooster Rules” before and after House sessions.

I dealt with three henchmen, and Huffman was still scurrying like a bug across the garage floor. Hilariously, he dropped his pen and left it for the sergeant-at-arms to pick off the ground—because God forbid he’d humble himself by stooping over.

Some critics may ask, what did I gain? Making him feel a modicum of discomfort that he puts on marginalized communities is more than enough for me.

Because that’s the name of the game to me; it’s perverse that a guy like Huffman can shrug off an assembled press gaggle and dismiss an 11-word question as “too long.”

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have been the only reporter pursuing Huffman into the basement and through the garage. If he doesn’t want to answer questions, that’s fine. But he should be made to walk the plank of shame.

Look how uncomfortable he looks dealing with one guy with a camera who is asking him questions in a very respectable manner. For all his perceived power and intellect, he can’t handle the slightest bit of hostile questioning. That awkward shuffling across the garage floor was probably the most exercise he’s gotten in years.

It’s a recipe that has worked for me. It’s not like most of these legislators talk to me because they enjoy my company. They have come to prefer answering the nice man’s questions over the shrieking goblin that lives inside me.

And given the heat that the combined might of that press gaggle could have brought upon Huffman, he probably wouldn’t brush them off the next time he leaves the Rules & References Committee because he’s smart enough to know it looks better for a politician to stand their ground and answer some questions.

Instead, I had to go sicko mode for 107 seconds and justify myself to an exasperated Sergeant-at-Arms after exercising my First Amendment rights:

I don’t begrudge the Sergeants-at-Arms or the Ohio State Highway Patrolmen on Capitol Square. I shoot the breeze with them regularly, and they give me a lot of leeway. They’re working a job, and I regret making them sweat.

But I won’t allow myself to be blocked in public areas anymore.

Last month, Huffman’s henchman blocked me from leaving the Statehouse while pursuing his boss to ask questions about a pivotal Speaker vote among his colleagues.

The henchmen won that battle, but I learned my lesson, which is why I won this latest encounter. 

Still, the war continues for the next eight years. If I can inconvenience him for even 90 seconds, that’s 90 seconds he’s not spending thinking of diabolical ways to crush public schools or curtail organized labor rights.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do until he repeals the Rooster Rules and allows everyone to congregate in the lobby outside the House chamber.

It’s time to recruit Tim Misny for governor!