Democratic vice presidential candidate Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz speaks on stage during the third day of the Democratic National Convention.Kevin Dietsch/Getty
America loves a sports metaphor. On the third night of the Democratic National Convention Wednesday, Vice Presidential nominee and Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz showed up by his preferred title, coach, to give a pep talk to American voters.
“I haven’t given a lot of big speeches like this,” Walz said bashfully. “But I have given a lot of pep talks. So 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. We’re driving down the field And boy do we have the right team.”
The crowd chanted “Coach! Coach!”
A month ago, few Americans knew who Walz was. The governor of Minnesota had a low national profile until he began making the rounds on TV, presenting himself to the American people and, in so-doing, auditioning for the suddenly- open position of Democratic vice presidential nominee. Walz changed the race when he called the Donald Trump, JD Vance, and the MAGA movement “weird.” It was a disarming attack, stripping Trump of his power and turning the dour former president it with something like a joke.
In selecting Walz, Harris chose a savvy communicator. But she also chose a foil to the weirdness on the other side of the ticket. In Walz, Harris found the opposite of Donald Trump’s running mate, Sen. JD Vance of Ohio. Both men are veterans. Neither spent their formative years in a coastal city. But the policies they stand for and the temperament they display are starkly different.
It’s Minnesota nice, but as policy. As governor, one of Walz’s signature achievements was a law providing free breakfast and lunch in school.
Vance, with his book Hillbilly Elegy, claimed to understand what some Republicans call real America. Walz, a gunowner whose resume includes football coach and teacher (as well as congressman and governor) from a tiny town in Nebraska, is a foil to the stereotype of Republicans as real Americans. On Wednesday, Walz used his speech to claim a truer affiliation with rural America than Vance has. “I grew up in Butte, Nebraska, in a town of 400 people,” Walz said. “I had 24 kids in my high school class. And none of them went to Yale.” Vance went to Yale Law.
Walz’s brand as a rural kid is his entree into progressive politics. In a small town, he went on, “you learn how to take care of each other.” It’s Minnesota nice, but as policy. As governor, one of Walz’s signature achievements was a law providing free breakfast and lunch in school. “So while other states were banning books from our schools, we were banishing hunger from ours,” he said.
Walz’s speech highlighted his record in Minnesota, parts of which Harris would seek to replicate as president. “We protected reproductive freedom,” he said. “Even if we wouldn’t make those same choices for ourselves, we’ve got a golden rule: Mind your own damn business.”
Walz also shared his own connection to the current battle over reproductive choice. He and his wife, Gwen Walz, used IVF to start their family. “If you’ve never experienced the hell that is infertility, I guarantee you know someone who has,” Walz said. “I’m letting you in on how we started a family because this is a big part about what this election is about.”
Walz’s job Wednesday was to introduce himself to American voters, to convey the goals of a Harris administration, and to knock down the opposition. In his final pep talk of the night, the former coach did just that.
“We’ve gonna leave it all on the field,” he said in his finale. “That’s how we’ll build a country where workers come first, health care and housing are human rights, and the government stays the hell out of your bedroom.”
